How Stop Writing Like Everyone Else Here is How to Find Your Unique Voice Broke the System

Okay, let's rewind to last month. Picture this: It's 2:13 AM. The coffee shop I frequent for my late-night caffeine binges is about to close, and I've just realized something tragic. My writing is starting to sound like... everyone else's. (Cue horror music and a dramatic zoom-in on my laptop screen.) I mean, I always prided myself on having a unique voice. But as I scrolled through my latest blog posts (all 43 of them), it hit me like a rogue Wi-Fi disconnection. My writing had morphed into the dreaded "corporate beige." You know, the kind of writing that could put a caffeinated squirrel into a coma. I knew I had to do something drastic—or at least mildly entertaining. That's when I decided to embark on a noble (or reckless) experiment: What if I wrote every piece in the voice of an iconic character or person for a whole month? I started with Yoda (because wisdom, duh), then went onto Shakespeare (lots of "thou" and "hath"), and even tried a dash of Dr. Seuss (yes, it involved rhyming about budget meetings). The results? Mixed. But here's what blew my mind: my engagement rate increased by 37%. And even more surprising, my unsubscribe rate plummeted to almost zero. Apparently, people dig quirky. Now, before you roll your eyes and think, "Alex, I'm not about to write like Gandalf on a quest," hear me out. This exercise taught me something profound about finding my own voice. By stepping into the shoes (or cloaks) of others, I discovered what made my writing stand out—and what made it sound like every other LinkedIn motivational post out there. Here’s why this actually works: When you break out of your usual pattern, you give your brain a creative jolt. It's like switching from decaf to espresso. Your writing becomes fresher, more vibrant, and—dare I say—more you. You find the cadence, the humor, the quirks that make you, well, you. And trust me, the world doesn’t need another bland blog post. (I’ve written exactly 17 of those, I would know.) So, how can you apply this in real life without turning your next report into a Dr. Seuss poem? Start small. Pick a character you love and try writing a paragraph or two in their style. Or, better yet, juxtapose two wildly different styles—like Shakespeare meets Hemingway (I call it "Ye Olde Minimalism"). It doesn’t need to be perfect; it just needs to be different. Once you’ve had some fun with this, focus on what felt natural and what didn’t. Did you enjoy using humor? A conversational tone? Maybe you discovered an unexpected love for dramatic monologues (in which case, you should probably audition for the next community theater production). To get started, spend a week experimenting. Write a journal entry as if you’re narrating a film noir movie. Draft an email as if you’re a pirate (I recommend avoiding this one for job applications, unless you’re applying to work at a theme park). The goal is to step outside your comfort zone and listen to how your voice changes. Now for the real meat: Real-world results. My friend Jamie took this challenge, and his blog traffic doubled in a month (from 500 to 1000 views—small numbers, big win). Another buddy of mine, Lisa, used this method in her marketing emails and saw a 25% increase in click-through rates. Turns out, people are intrigued when you open with an Oscar Wilde quote in a business email. For those of you ready to go beyond the basics, here’s the insider knowledge: Mix and match voices based on your audience. Want to connect with a younger crowd? Channel a bit of pop culture. A more scholarly audience? Throw in a touch of nuanced debate. The secret sauce is in the blend. And finally, a call to action (because no piece is complete without one): Stop writing like everyone else. The world doesn’t need more vanilla content. It needs a Neapolitan swirl with a dash of surprise. Find your voice, let it sing (or rap, or whisper). Experiment, play, and above all, make sure you’re having fun. After all, writing should be an adventure—not a chore. So, grab your metaphorical sword (or pen) and go find your unique voice. Because trust me, there are enough beige walls in the world. Let’s add some color.