Voice is a confusing concept in general. Invisible Writing is too. Putting them together can be like trying to find Schrödinger’s Cat.

VOICE isn’t something you “create” as much as “hone”. Every writer has a voice, it’s up to you use it to best advantage. (If you’re new to writing, just write. The more you write, the more you’ll recognize your voice.)

INVISIBLE WRITING isn’t something you can immediately recognize, in fact you shouldn’t. As explained in an article by WG Tapply:

“Don’t try to impress your reader with how cleverly you write. These fancy words, all these adjectives and adverbs and vocabulary words”–he pronounced the word vocabulary as if it meant “disgusting human waste product”–“all they do is call attention to you. You don’t want your reader aware of your writing at all. If you do your job, you’ll have them thinking about your ideas, your arguments, your characters, or whatever it is you’re trying to communicate. If someone tells you, ‘Wow, that’s great writing,’ you know you’ve failed.”

I originally read the article in a Writer’s Digest magazine so old the internet wasn’t even a thing. After some searching, the article (as I remember it) is reprinted here.

 

And so, in searching for the “Invisible Voice”, consider the following versions of the nursery rhyme “Jack and Jill”:

Mother Goose
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown.
Jill came tumbling after.

“modern”
Jack and Jill went up the hill for a bucket of water.
Jack fell, hurt his head.
Jill rolled down after him.

Jack as played by the character “Rambo”
1st person:
Jill and me, we went up the hill for water. Just water.
I fell, sustained a head injury.
Jill, she fell too.
3rd person:
Jack and Jill walked up the hill for water. Just water.
Jack fell, sustained a head injury.
Jill, she fell too.

Jill, in purple prose
1st person:
I once admired that handsome gentleman Jack. But at the same time, I felt somewhat sorry for him. After I had, very demurely, expressed a desire for a bit of water, he took me by the hand and lead me most graciously up the hill.
But the poor man’s foot took a bad turn and broke the very crown of his head.
I took a tumble myself and soiled my very best pinafore.
3rd person:
Jill fawned over a handsome gentleman Jack. But at the same time, she felt somewhat sorry for him. When she very demurely expressed a desire for a bit of water, he took her by the hand and lead her most graciously up the hill.
But the poor man’s foot took a bad turn and broke the very crown of his head.
Jill also took a tumble and soiled her very best pinafore.

The Mother Goose version, of course, is the one most people have heard. It’s an example of “strong voice”, in my opinion, because it sounds more like a narrator than either of the characters. However, there is not enough story to know for sure.

The second example is my effort to update the verbiage. This is not a particularly “strong” voice as there is no personality portrayed in the words. But it’s not invisible because it’s me the author telling you what happened.

The third and fourth examples, Jack’s and Jill’s points of view, I would consider “Invisible Voice” because I used the character’s expressions, words and personality (not my own) to tell the story. In longer prose, point of view and character voice would be more evident. (fyi, To arrive at the “invisible” versions, I first wrote the passage in 1st person to get the feel of each character. This technique is also used in deep POV, which is so similar to invisible voice that they may be the same thing.)