Many authors begin their books from spoken places. A sermon becomes a chapter. A teaching session becomes a devotional. A counselling conversation becomes a paragraph. A testimony shared in church becomes a manuscript. A WhatsApp reflection becomes the seed of a book.
This is not a weakness. In fact, many powerful books begin that way.
Spoken language carries warmth. It has rhythm, humour, emotion, personality, urgency, and life. A speaker can pause, laugh, raise their voice, soften their tone, repeat a phrase, gesture with their hands, and use facial expression to help the listener understand the message. In African Christian spaces especially, spoken teaching is often vibrant and deeply relational. We speak with conviction. We illustrate freely. We respond to the room. We say things in ways that make people laugh, nod, clap, or say, “Amen!”
However, a book is not a pulpit, a podcast, a WhatsApp voice note, or a social media caption. A book must stand on the page without the author’s voice, face, gestures, timing, and immediate explanation. This is why spoken language often needs refinement before it becomes written language.
The goal is not to remove the author’s voice. The goal is to mature it for book form.
A book should still sound like the author, but it should sound like the edited, thoughtful, timeless, and reader-aware version of the author.
Spoken Language and Written Language Serve Different Purposes
Spoken language is immediate. It is often shaped by the moment. A speaker may use slang, repetition, dramatic expressions, exaggeration, humour, and spontaneous phrases because the audience can interpret them through tone and context.
For example, in spoken teaching, a phrase such as “I was going to pop” may make people laugh or understand the emotional pressure being described. In a book, however, the same phrase may feel too casual, unclear, or distracting. A reader who is not from the same context may pause and wonder what the author means. Another reader may feel that the phrase reduces the seriousness of the subject.
Written language requires more precision. Once words are printed, they travel without the author. They may be read by people from different countries, cultures, age groups, denominations, education levels, and emotional seasons. The author cannot stand beside every reader to say, “What I meant was…” The writing must carry the meaning clearly on its own.
This is why authors must ask: Does this phrase still work when it is read silently by someone who does not know me?
If the answer is no, the phrase may need refinement.
Informal Language Is Not Always Wrong
Informal language is not the enemy of good writing. Some books become lifeless because the author tries too hard to sound formal. The result is a manuscript that is grammatically correct but emotionally dry, like boiled cabbage without salt. It may be healthy, but nobody is asking for a second plate.
Warmth matters. Personality matters. Humour matters. Relatability matters. Christian books should not sound like they were written by a committee of exhausted dictionaries.
The issue is not whether a book should have a conversational tone. Many excellent books do. The issue is whether the tone suits the subject, audience, purpose, and emotional weight of the message.
A book on grief, trauma, illness, parenting pain, marriage wounds, spiritual formation, or Christian discipleship may allow moments of humour and lightness, but the language should still honour the seriousness of the subject. A phrase that works beautifully in a youth talk may not work in a chapter about loss. A hashtag that works on Instagram may feel dated in a printed devotional. A dramatic phrase that works in a sermon may feel exaggerated in a memoir.
The question is not, “Is this informal?” The better question is, “Is this appropriate for this moment in the book?”
When Spoken Expressions Weaken a Manuscript
Spoken expressions can weaken a manuscript when they distract from the message, reduce emotional weight, confuse global readers, or date the book too quickly.
For example, expressions such as “woke,” “killer punch,” “nano second,” “my goodness boy,” or hashtag-style statements like “#Hurting people hurt people” may feel current and energetic today, but they may not age well. A reader five or ten years from now may find them outdated. A reader outside the author’s cultural setting may not understand them as intended. A reader in deep pain may feel that the language is too light for the subject.
This does not mean every lively phrase must be removed. It means the author must decide which phrases serve the message and which ones merely decorate the page.
Examples from Different African Contexts
African writing is rich because our languages, humour, idioms, and speech patterns carry history, community, and personality. A Kenyan author may write with the rhythm of Nairobi conversation. A Ugandan author may carry the warmth and humour of Kampala storytelling. A South African author may bring the flavour of township, church, and multilingual expression. An author from Eswatini, Botswana, or Nigeria may also write with phrases that make perfect sense in their home context but may not immediately translate to readers elsewhere.
This is not a problem to be ashamed of. It is part of the beauty of African authorship. However, when a book is meant to travel beyond one local setting, the author must decide which expressions should remain for cultural flavour and which ones need explanation, refinement, or replacement.
A phrase can be powerful in conversation but confusing on the page. A statement can be humorous in one country but sound too casual, too harsh, or unclear in another. Good editing helps the author preserve cultural identity while making the message accessible to a wider readership.
For example, a Kenyan author might write:
“By the time I reached home, I was completely finished. Wah!”
In conversation, many Kenyan readers may immediately understand the emotional exhaustion. In book form, especially for a wider audience, it may be refined to:
“By the time I reached home, I was emotionally and physically exhausted.”
If the author wants to preserve the Kenyan flavour, they could write:
“By the time I reached home, I was exhausted. In the Kenyan way, I could only say, ‘Wah!’—that small word that often carries a whole paragraph of feeling.”
Here, the cultural expression remains, but the reader is guided.
A Ugandan author might write:
“Eh, my friend, that season showed me things!”
In spoken testimony, this sounds warm and familiar. In written form, it may become:
“That season opened my eyes in ways I had not expected.”
Or, if the author wants to keep the conversational warmth:
“That season opened my eyes in ways I had not expected. As we often say in Uganda, ‘My friend,’ life can teach you without asking permission.”
This keeps the author’s voice while making the meaning clear.
A South African author might write:
“Yoh, I was finished. That thing took me out.”
In spoken language, “Yoh” carries shock, pain, surprise, or emotional weight. However, a reader outside South Africa may not understand the tone. The book version could be:
“I was overwhelmed. The experience left me shaken.”
Or:
“Yoh, I was overwhelmed. That South African expression captures what ordinary English sometimes cannot: shock, pain, and disbelief all in one breath.”
This version honours the local expression but does not abandon the wider reader.
An author from Eswatini might write:
“Shame, my heart was sore.”
In some Southern African contexts, “shame” can express sympathy, tenderness, or emotional concern. However, readers from other places may interpret it as disgrace or embarrassment. The refined version could be:
“My heart was deeply troubled.”
Or:
“Shame, my heart was sore—not shame as disgrace, but as that tender Southern African expression of sorrow and sympathy.”
This helps the reader understand the emotional meaning.
A writer from Botswana might write:
“Eish, that day humbled me.”
This may be clear to some Southern African readers, but not all global readers. The author could refine it to:
“That day humbled me deeply.”
Or:
“Eish, that day humbled me deeply. It was one of those moments when life spoke louder than my confidence.”
This keeps the expression without making it do all the work alone.
A Nigerian author might write:
“Ah! I said, ‘God, is this how we are doing it now?’”
In spoken teaching, this may make the audience laugh because the tone is familiar and dramatic. In a book, it may need to be shaped carefully depending on the seriousness of the scene:
“In that moment, I was confused and deeply unsettled. I found myself asking God honest questions.”
Or, where humour is appropriate:
“Ah! In true Nigerian fashion, I found myself asking God questions with full punctuation. Beneath the humour, however, was a sincere cry for understanding.”
This allows the humour to remain without reducing the weight of the moment.
The key is not to remove African expressions from African books. That would be unfortunate, and frankly, a little boring. The key is to make sure the reader is not left behind. Local expressions can remain when they are clear, fitting, and meaningful. Where they may confuse the reader, the author can explain them briefly or rewrite them in more timeless language.
A good rule is this: keep cultural flavour, but do not let flavour overpower clarity.
Authors should ask:
- Will a reader from Kenya understand this Ugandan expression?
- Will a reader from Botswana understand this Nigerian phrase?
- Will a reader from Eswatini understand this Kenyan slang?
- Will a reader in the United Kingdom, India, Ghana, Canada, or the United States understand the emotional meaning?
- Does the phrase carry the seriousness of the moment, or does it make the scene feel lighter than intended?
African Christian books are increasingly crossing borders. That is a gift. It means our language must be both rooted and reachable. We can write with local colour and global clarity. We can keep the warmth of home while preparing the book to sit on many tables.
The best editing does not erase the author’s country. It helps the reader from another country enter it with understanding.
A Book Should Be Warm, But Also Timeless
One of the marks of strong writing is timelessness. A book should not sound as if it belongs only to one social media season. This is especially important for Christian publishing because many books are meant to disciple, comfort, teach, and encourage readers over many years.
Trendy words may create quick connection, but they can also expire quickly. Some expressions are like fresh mandazi: wonderful when hot, disappointing when left too long. A book needs language that can travel beyond the mood of the moment.
This does not mean authors should write in stiff or old-fashioned language. Timeless language is not boring language. It is language that remains clear, respectful, emotionally appropriate, and meaningful beyond the immediate trend.
Instead of chasing what sounds current, authors should aim for what sounds clear.
Instead of asking, “Will this sound clever?” ask, “Will this still make sense years from now?”
Instead of asking, “Will this make people laugh?” ask, “Does the humour serve the message?”
Instead of asking, “Is this how I would say it on stage?” ask, “Is this how it should live on the page?”
Spoken Teaching Often Needs Structure
Another difference between spoken and written language is structure.
In spoken teaching, repetition can be helpful. A speaker may repeat a point three times for emphasis. The audience hears the rhythm and follows the emotion. In a book, too much repetition can feel heavy or careless unless it is deliberately shaped.
In spoken teaching, the speaker may move from one idea to another because the audience can follow their energy. In writing, sudden movement can feel abrupt. A reader needs clear transitions.
For example, a speaker may say:
“Let me tell you something. People are hurting. And hurting people hurt people. My goodness, if we do not heal, we bleed on people who never cut us. That thing is real!”
In a live setting, this may work. In book form, it may need to become:
“Unhealed pain often affects innocent people. When wounds remain unattended, they can shape our reactions, relationships, and decisions. This is why healing is not only personal; it is also relational. We seek God’s restoration not only for our own freedom, but also so that we do not keep passing pain to others.”
The second version may not produce immediate applause, but it will carry the thought more clearly for the reader.
Do Not Confuse Authenticity with Rawness
Some authors resist editing informal language because they fear losing authenticity. They may say, “But that is how I speak.” That may be true. However, writing is not merely speaking typed out.
Raw speech is not always ready writing.
Authenticity does not mean every phrase must remain exactly as it first came out. Authenticity means the final writing still carries the author’s heart, conviction, story, and message. Editing does not make writing fake. Good editing removes confusion so the true message can be heard.
Think of it this way: when preparing for an important event, you are still yourself after dressing well. You have not become false because you combed your hair. You have simply honoured the occasion. In the same way, a manuscript does not lose authenticity because the language has been refined. It becomes better prepared to meet the reader.
A published book is an occasion worth dressing the words for.
Matching Language to the Weight of the Subject
Every chapter has an emotional weight. Some sections are light, instructional, humorous, or conversational. Others are sacred, painful, reflective, or deeply pastoral. The author’s language should match the weight of the moment.
If a chapter discusses grief after loss, the language should be gentle. If it discusses spiritual growth, the tone can be warm and instructive. If it discusses trauma, the writing should be careful and compassionate. If it discusses testimony, the author can include emotion, but should avoid phrases that trivialise the pain.
This is especially important in Christian writing. The author may be handling the reader’s wounds, doubts, grief, sin, hope, or faith. Such matters require care.
Proverbs 15:23 says, “A word spoken in due season, how good it is!” The wisdom is not only in the word itself, but in its timing and fittingness. Some words may be true, but poorly placed. Some humour may be funny, but not suitable for that paragraph. Some phrases may be expressive, but not fitting for that emotional moment.
Good writing asks not only, “Is this sentence true?” but also, “Is this sentence fitting?”
How to Refine Spoken Language for Book Form
The first step is to read the manuscript aloud. Better still, use the “Read Aloud” feature in Microsoft Word or another text-to-speech tool. Listening helps the author notice where the writing sounds too casual, too repetitive, too dramatic, too abrupt, or too much like a live sermon.
The second step is to mark phrases that feel overly trendy, exaggerated, culturally narrow, or unclear. These phrases are not automatically wrong, but they need review.
The third step is to ask what the phrase is trying to achieve. Is it adding humour? Emotion? Emphasis? Clarity? Shock? Warmth? Once the author knows the purpose, they can rewrite the phrase in a stronger way.
The fourth step is to preserve the author’s voice while improving the sentence. The goal is not to turn a warm African storyteller into a cold academic textbook. The goal is to keep the heart while refining the delivery.
For example:
Spoken style: “I was so done. Completely finished.”
Book form: “I felt completely exhausted, as though I had reached the end of myself.”
Spoken style: “That thing hit me like a killer punch.”
Book form: “The news struck me with unexpected force.”
Spoken style: “I woke up and realised, wait, I need to heal.”
Book form: “I gradually realised that healing was no longer something I could postpone.”
Spoken style: “My goodness, boy, life can humble you.”
Book form: “Life has a way of humbling us in ways we did not expect.”
Spoken style: “#Hurting people hurt people.”
Book form: “Unhealed pain often spills into relationships.”
These revisions do not erase the message. They help it stand with greater dignity.
When Informal Language Can Stay
There are moments when informal language should remain. Dialogue, for example, should often sound natural. If a character or person in a memoir spoke casually, the author may preserve that flavour. Humour may also remain when it supports the message. A memorable phrase may stay if it is clear, fitting, and not distracting.
The key is intentionality.
Informal language should be a choice, not a habit. Slang should be used because it serves the reader, not because the author did not pause to consider alternatives. Humour should lift the message, not weaken it. Conversational warmth should make the reader feel close to the author, not make the book feel under-edited.
A good author learns when to sound like a trusted friend and when to sound like a careful guide. Sometimes the reader needs a smile. Sometimes the reader needs silence. Sometimes the reader needs a sentence that holds their pain with both hands.
Christian Authors Must Steward Their Voice
A voice is a gift. Some authors have a teaching voice. Others have a pastoral voice, poetic voice, prophetic voice, humorous voice, scholarly voice, devotional voice, or storytelling voice. None of these voices should be despised.
However, every voice must be stewarded.
Christian authors are not only expressing themselves; they are serving readers. Their words should help readers understand truth, receive comfort, grow in wisdom, and encounter God more clearly. This requires humility. It requires revision. It requires the willingness to ask, “Does this sentence serve the reader, or does it merely sound like me?”
The best Christian writing carries both personality and discipline. It has warmth without carelessness. It has humour without shallowness. It has conviction without harshness. It has simplicity without laziness. It has polish without pride.
A Practical Self-Editing Checklist
When reviewing spoken or informal language in a manuscript, authors can ask:
- Does this phrase sound more suitable for a sermon, podcast, WhatsApp message, or social media post than a book?
- Will readers from another culture or generation understand it?
- Does the language match the seriousness of the subject?
- Is this expression clear, or does it require my voice and gestures to make sense?
- Will this phrase date the book too quickly?
- Does the humour strengthen the message or distract from it?
- Can I rewrite this sentence in a more timeless way without losing warmth?
- Is the phrase repeated too often?
- Does the sentence sound natural when read aloud?
- Does this language help the reader receive the message with clarity and respect?
Conclusion
Spoken language can birth a powerful book, but it should not always remain in its first spoken form. The page requires a different kind of care from the platform, pulpit, podcast, classroom, or counselling room.
Authors should not be afraid of refining their language. Refinement is not rejection. It is stewardship.
The aim is not to remove warmth, humour, culture, or personality. The aim is to help the message travel well. A manuscript can remain personal and still be polished. It can be conversational and still be professional. It can be heartfelt and still be timeless.
A strong Christian book should sound human, but not careless. Warm, but not shallow. Clear, but not cold. Personal, but not unpolished.
The author’s voice is the gift. Editing helps that gift serve the reader better.
Getting Started: Publishing Books
Preparing to Write/Publish
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Elementary Skills: Publishing Books
How to Write
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Technical Skills: Publishing Books
Refining Your Manuscript
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Advanced Skills: Publishing Books
Going the Extra Mile
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Contractual Skills: Publishing Books
Be Informed (Not Legal Advice)
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