Recently I've been working on a collaborative project with a friend, which was originally mooted as being set in a fictional, faraway history, with mangled signifiers running from the 1800s to the 1950s. I found it physically impossible to write in a voice affecting to be that of someone living in the olden days. Instead I've dodged the issue, by writing as much as I can in a voice that sounds like it's something I would say, or one of my friends would say, but obfuscating as much time-sensitive detail as possible. It's going to be a good project. Maybe it's a sign of my limitations as a writer that I can't write in a voice that I don't think in, but also I've never understood why people in their twenties want to pretend they're living in a decade that their parents probably weren't even born in, and in another country. The town I live in is a rockabilly necrophiliarapefest. There's something about contrivance that I just find squeamishly embarrassing.
I'm going to try listening to more old music though.