Words, Those Lovely, Dangerous Things

Words. Words. Words. Words. Words. Words.

Words. Weird shapes of lines and squiggles that represent and idea. Words. Words. Words. They disintegrate into letters—weird shapes of bumps and points—that represent sounds. If you say the same words over and over, they lose all meaning and distort themselves into air and breath.

Words.

I like words.

In different languages, words are formed differently. In ancient Hebrew and in Chinese for example, words are pictographs, and the shapes and angles form a picture of the idea being conveyed. There’s a lot more to unpack with each symbol—the depth of meaning infused with layers of cultural and historical perceptions.

In English, there’s a one-for-one relationship between word and idea. Well, sort of. There are many nuances to the meaning of words and there’s word drift, meaning that definitions and usage have changed over time. And sometimes there’s more than one meaning for a word. But usually, it’s not an entire concept per word. You probably already know all this and again it’s past midnight, and I’m squinting, trying to type as fast as I can before the baby wakes up.

He did. (Comes back the next midnight to finish)

Words. I love words. They are building blocks for ideas and manipulating them is like preparing the perfect meal—chopping onions, toasting spices, marinating meat. Just as a chef lovingly seasons the dining experience with creativity, writers and especially poets find themselves intoxicated with words.

For example:

The wind is a problem at my house. It is loud. It is fast and makes everything cold.

Now let’s have some fun.

Let’s think, what kind of wind does that? Rushing, whooshing, hissing, whistling, roaring…? Where does it do that? Near my house? In the leaves? Across the lake?

The wind is a problem where I live. It howls in the eaves. It is fast and makes everything cold.

Ah but should we personify the wind? Should we give it an emotion? Angry, malicious, capricious, malevolent, insidious, playful, hurtful…?

The wind is a problem where I live. The raging wind howls in the eaves. It is fast and makes everything cold.

But what about the speed of the wind? Fast is a speed, but can we think about what the wind does when it is fast? Is it hurling itself, is it throwing things around? Having a temper-tantrum? What is the result of the wind being fast?

The wind is a problem where I live. The raging wind howls in the eaves, rushing at my children and makes everything cold.

Alright, this is getting interesting, but can we then focus on cold? What is the idea behind it being cold? What does the cold do? Or what are synonyms? Chilly, burning, keeping us inside, making us afraid to go outside, chilling…?

The wind is a problem where I live. The raging wind howls in the eaves, rushing at my children, freezing us.

And finally, the topic sentence. It works the way it is. Or we can try something fun and twist it up, look at it from a different perspective.

We intruded on the northern territory and now the raging wind howls in the eaves, rushing at my children, freezing us.

Or we can change up the sentence structure.

The wind is my arch-nemesis. In rage it howls in the eaves, rushing at my children, freezing us.

Words. Blocks. Lego bricks. Ingredients. You use eggs in cake, pudding, meatballs, friend-rice. A word is versatile and shines by itself, like the fried egg, or mixes well, like in a potato salad, but words can even be as non-descript as binders, holding together and giving lift to ideas like eggs do in cookies.

But words are powerful. The ideas carried in words give life or death to the reader and spoken words shape a person’s perception of the world. Words can rush at you like an attack squadron of bees, or float around you like leaves in a stream. Sometimes you can pick them out of your mind, one by one like berries, soon assembled into pie. Words and their usage portray the very heart of a person, and like eyes, are a window to the soul. Treasure words for they represent you, even if you do not enjoy them. They can reveal how careful or sloppy or cruel or perceptive a person can be even if they are simple sentences about nothing.  Words should always be constructed intentionally into meanings.

I know. This is not an in-depth study of how words actually cause your brain to function, or a history on the development of language. Who has time for that? I wish I did. In fact, this might not be interesting to you at all. But here are some great authors I recommend.

If you are interested in reading, “One Hundred Names for Love,” by Diane Ackerman is one of the most beautifully written reflection on aphasia—the inability to sort and gather the word wanted. When her writer husband has a stroke, their world is thrown into unhinged sentences. I totally get that. Amazon.com: One Hundred Names for Love: A Memoir eBook : Ackerman, Diane: Kindle Store

If you enjoy fiction, I think the “Eyre Affair " by Jasper Fforde (plus I love the way he spells his last name) plays conceptually with words. It’s a series about a parallel universe where words, fiction and books follow their own rules. And of course, as Jayne Eyre features as a huge plot feature, I couldn’t resist!   The Eyre Affair: A Thursday Next Novel: Fforde, Jasper: 9780142001806: Amazon.com: Books

Now your turn. Write me an interesting sentence from this idea:

The cat sat on something. His big eyeballs looked at me. He ran away.