Why do I write (part 2)?

Why do I write?

I write because I love words. Words are magical and powerful. Think of all the things you can do with them: build up and tear down, create and destroy, make music, inspire, teach, preserve…and those are some of the positive things. Words can also make us uncomfortable, deceive us, threaten us, and devastate us. They can raise us high and bring us low. Such is their power.

Words reveal our past and connect us to those who came before us. Think of the words and phrases you use for certain life events and rituals–marriage, birth, death, worship, an oath of office or allegiance. Whether the words have been handed down through generations of your family or you have newly embraced them, those words and phrases connect you to a past larger than yourself. I’m a medieval historian in my day job, and the most powerful reminder of this was attending a High Latin mass in Charlemagne’s cathedral in Aachen, Germany. It wasn’t only about the mass; it was also about a connection to a shared past and a shared, admittedly Western (and that’s a topic for a future post) understanding of that past.

Words lead us toward the future. Without words to first express what we imagine, how can we speak of time travel, space travel, air travel. Without words, can we even imagine? It should come as no surprise at this point that the most interesting part of Orwell’s 1984 for me was the appendix on New Speak and the idea that limiting vocabulary would also limit freedom of  thought. Words have power.

Words, and a shared understanding of what those words represent, enable us to communicate with those around us. We use them to express our most basic needs and our most complex thoughts, to provide shades of meaning. Am I jogging, running, or sprinting (definitely not that latter)? Are you upset, appalled, or horrified? Words allow us to be specific. As my four year old would tell you, a parasol and an umbrella are not the same.

Words change. Words aren’t static. They change as we change. I can think of several slang terms from my high school years that are no longer in use and remember the horror when my mom and aunts said they needed to buy thongs instead of flip-flops. Obviously we create new words–Shakespeare, anyone?–for new ideas and things, and words fall out of disuse–try explaining a “party line” to young people who’ve never lived in a word without smart phones. When my grandmother says ‘stool’ she doesn’t mean the one you use to reach that top cupboard.

Meaning also evolves and varies from place to place, even places that speak the same language. Words can have multiple meanings, which vary based on time, place, and the individual. Meaning can be literal or figurative. How often do we mean someone physically stabbed another person in the back?

Words tell us who we are and where we’ve been. Do you say ‘soda’ or ‘pop’? Do you have a barbecue or do you grill-out? Do you go on vacation or holiday? Is your speech salty and laid back, or does profanity never cross your lips and do you use ‘who’ and ‘whom’ correctly? Do you have a drawl, a burr, a twang, a brogue? I’m amazed at how a few carefully chosen words can reveal a character.

I love words. I love the worlds and stories I can create with words. I do my best to remember and respect the power I wield.