Stories shape the world. But if we’re not giving voice to the voiceless, we’re shaping a world that leaves people behind. Not just in fiction—but in real life.

We don’t tell every story—and that silence shapes everything.

Historically, literature—like history—has centered the same kinds of characters, the same kinds of lives, the same lens of experience. Everyone else? Relegated to the sidelines. Flattened. Forgotten. Or worse—never written in at all.

And yet, here’s the thing: there are no voiceless people. Only people the world has worked hard to silence.

As writers, it’s not just our job to entertain. It’s our responsibility to bear witness. To reach into the margins. To ask: Who have we never made space for? Who’s been told, again and again, that their voice doesn’t matter? And what does it say about us that we’re only just now listening?

Giving voice to the voiceless isn’t a trend. It’s not a checkbox for “diverse storytelling.” It’s an act of restoration. Of resistance. Of reckoning.

The Cost of Telling Stories That Center the Silenced

When I wrote Black Cloud Rises, I was haunted by the story of a man erased from the mainstream narrative—a Black officer in the Reconstruction era, forced to fight in a war that refused to make room for him. He wasn’t voiceless. But history had done everything it could to make him invisible.

I wrote it to make sure he wouldn’t disappear again.

In truth, representation in fiction isn’t just about identity—it’s about who gets to matter. Because stories grant humanity. And the people we leave out are the people we quietly dehumanize.

Why Giving Voice to the Voiceless Is Vital, Not Optional

When you write marginalized characters with depth, with agency, with inner life—you’re doing more than “including” them. You’re saying: you belong here. Your voice matters just as much as anyone else’s.

And for readers who’ve never seen themselves in the pages of a book? That kind of representation isn’t decorative. It’s life-giving.

So no, this isn’t optional. Not if you care about truth. Not if you believe fiction should reflect the real world—not just its comforts, but its injustices, its complexities, its wounds.

Giving voice to the voiceless means reviving stories history tried to bury—not out of guilt, but because the truth deserves to live.

What Happens When We Tell the Whole Story

Above all, tell the stories of those who’ve been denied the mic.
Write the characters who don’t usually make the cover.
Listen before you speak—but when it’s your turn to write, don’t hold back.

Because storytelling isn’t just about what happens.
It’s about giving voice to the voiceless—and choosing not to look away anymore.

And if we want a more just world, we need more just stories.

Coming June 25th: Black Cloud Rises

Black Cloud Rises tells the true story of a Black officer during the Reconstruction era—a man history tried to erase, but who demanded to be seen.

It’s a book for anyone who’s ever asked, Why wasn’t I taught this?
The world tried to silence that voice—but this story refuses to stay quiet.