Narrative voice is the perspective from which a story is delivered, we’re often told, but that definition is woefully inadequate and sounds suspiciously more like the definition of point of view. Definitions that point toward the persona through which a story is told come closer to encapsulating this all-important element of storytelling. Yes, narrative voice emerges from the writer’s stylistic choices (diction, tone, and level of intimacy with the characters), but really, it’s both simpler and more complex than all of that.
Voice, in writing, is about capturing the soul of the story. Consider this passage from Junot Díaz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao:
It’s never the changes we want that change everything.
This is how it all starts: with your mother calling you into the bathroom. You will remember what you were doing at that precise moment for the rest of your life: You were reading Watership Down and the rabbits and their does were making their dash for the boat and you didn’t want to stop reading, the book has to go back to your brother tomorrow, but then she called you again, louder, her I’m-not-fucking-around voice, and you mumbled irritably, Sí, señora.
Just as Díaz’s distinctive voice immediately transports readers into the story, a brand’s voice instantly establishes its world and welcomes customers into it. Whether you’re reading the playful menu descriptions (in chalk!) at your local café or scanning Starbucks’ carefully crafted app notifications, you’re experiencing the power of intentional voice architecture. Like a fingerprint, this voice becomes instantly recognizable over time and creates a consistent thread through every customer interaction.
How can brands create content that’s both strategic and sincere, intentional and intimate?
The Authenticity Crisis
Examining the media landscape in The Braindead Megaphone, George Saunders shows how attention-grabbing, oversimplified messages dominate public discourse. His essays blend wit with cultural criticism to argue that this noisy environment degrades our ability to engage in meaningful conversation. While Saunders directs this criticism at news media and political discourse—much of his fiction also mocks business, marketing, and the like—it does equally apply to marketing concepts, too. If every brand shouts for attention, none of them truly connect with their audience.
As Adam Begley notes in his review of In Persuasion Nation (2005), Saunders satirizes “the buying and selling of packaged experience,” yet ironically risks becoming “a dependable brand name” himself. Through absurdist commercials and dystopian visions of surgically-implanted ads, Saunders critiques how marketing overwhelms modern life, while demonstrating that even its sharpest critics can’t fully escape market forces. Rest assured, nearly twenty years after that book was published, Saunders is a distinct, top-shelf literary brand, whether he likes it or not. But he didn’t get there by shouting.
In an era where AI can generate unlimited content, we also face what Saunders and others might consider a crisis of authenticity. Technology makes content creation effortless, flooding our digital spaces with what might be called performances of authenticity. The challenge isn’t creating content, those who question the value of language learning models might contend—it’s creating content that connects and feels genuinely human. In other words: content that is effective, even if it goes unnoticed or unremarked upon, at accomplishing its rhetorical goal.
This tension between authenticity and performance echoes what David Foster Wallace explores in A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, his long essay about a seven-day Caribbean luxury cruise that dissects the manufactured cheerfulness and forced fun of corporate entertainment to reveal how aggressively curated experiences often feel more alienating than authentic. This paradox—trying to be genuine in a world that rewards calculated presentation—is especially acute for brands. Every social media post, email, and product description must thread the needle between strategic communication and authentic connection. Like Wallace’s cruise ship essay, which reveals the artifice behind manufactured experiences, today’s consumers spot sanitized corporate speak as easily as that cruise ship’s captain identifies an approaching squall where steel-gray clouds kiss the horizon.
Corporations have caught on. Let’s return to the example of Starbucks, who says they’re “evolving to unite our brand and meet our audience’s needs.” Here’s an example:
Just as fiction writers balance showing (vivid scenes) with telling (efficient summary), successful brands craft their voice along similar lines. Starbucks uses an expressive voice to create emotional touchstones, and a functional voice—and only six words—to guide customers efficiently. Their brand guide frames these as complementary tools—expressive language for memorable moments, functional copy for clear navigation—working alongside visual elements like typography and color to maintain a cohesive identity.
Such an effort creates a complete narrative experience where each voice serves a distinct purpose, which—as much as novelists like Saunders, Wallace, and other writers might hate the comparison—is not completely divorced from the everyday reality of what novelists do at their keyboards.
Brand relevance (a unified narrative experience) and connection (essential to the messenger-audience/writer-reader relationship) both make sense. The third component, joy, is an essential element that both marketers and novelists strive for too infrequently.
Constructing Your Voice Architecture
Your brand’s voice begins with its narrative position. Like a novelist choosing who tells the story and from what vantage point, you must decide how your brand will speak to its audience—as an authoritative guide, a friendly peer, or something else entirely? This series of choices helps shape how directly a reader experiences the story and how much access they have to characters’ thoughts and feelings.
In much the same way, brands must consider their relationship with their audience. Using the first-person plural (“We believe”) creates intimacy and community. A second-person direct address (“You deserve”) engages with the customer’s needs head-on. A third-person institutional voice (“Company X delivers”) establishes authority and expertise.
Just as readers track characters’ mental states in fiction, something Lisa Zunshine explores in Why We Read Fiction, customers engage with a brand’s personality across different contexts. This foundational understanding shapes a brand voice’s characteristics and allows for both intimacy and authority through careful modulation. (Such a balance is often achieved in long historical novels spanning decades.)
In fact, successful brands must often balance seemingly opposing qualities: authority with accessibility, innovation with groundedness, personal connection with professionalism. These aren’t contradictions. Instead, such voice variations create depth across marketing channels while maintaining your brand’s core identity—from social media’s quick engagement to your website’s structured clarity to email’s blend of personal connection and value proposition.
Like an omniscient narrator (think Tolstoy), you must master distinct yet cohesive voices, each precisely calibrated for its medium—and for both its immediate and larger purpose—with the goal of weaving them together to tell a unified, distinctive, and memorable story.
Implementing Your Voice Architecture
Your style guide serves as a literary blueprint, documenting not just rules but the principles that guide your voice’s evolution. Beyond mere technical standards, it should capture the spirit of your brand’s communication—the equivalent of a novelist’s distinctive prose style. Robust quality control systems can ensure this voice remains consistent even as it scales across all of your channels. Your frameworks should adapt to context while maintaining consistency, allowing for creative freedom within established boundaries. Regular peer review, voice consistency checks, and content audits help maintain this balance, while engagement metrics and audience feedback can guide that brand voice’s evolution over time.
The Future of Brand Voice
Your brand voice is more than just a style guide, though—it’s the narrative architecture that shapes every customer interaction. If all this talk of architecture feels abstract, perhaps it’s easier to think of brand voice as an exchange between storyteller and audience. Marketing and rhetoric share the goal of persuasion, after all, and everything begins with a conversation.
Like any skilled rhetorician, brands build trust through consistent, intentional storytelling that acknowledges and responds to their audience. While AI can replicate styles and generate endless content, literature’s enduring lessons about voice, authenticity, and human connection light our path forward in building brand identity that resonates.
For more than two decades, we’ve helped businesses across industries develop a distinctive brand voice. Ready for us to shape yours?
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