As writers, all we have to work with is our words. They’re the currency of our craft; we use them to say, to show, to explain, to tell, to create an idea or a world or even just a person. Unfortunately, words are just too easy to come by–and often we spill our stories with pennies, rather than the dimes or quarters that would really do the job.
As in: The sunrise was beautiful. Now, that’s an expressive statement! What exactly does beautiful mean, particularly in regard to sunrises? And doesn’t its meaning depend on the reader’s interpretation of beautiful? I, for one, could never find a sunrise beautiful because I loathe being awake at that hour. So the writer of that sentence, whatever he or she meant, hasn’t gotten it across to me.
How about this one: The evening we spent together was really great. Okay, great. Great, as in large? Or great, as in–well, what? My great may be your miserable.
I’d like to be able to tell you that there is one perfect word for whatever it is that you’re talking about, but, sad to say, there isn’t. There’s just the choice between the mediocre and the good word, the adequate and the excellent, the vague and the specific, the abstract and the concrete. It’s your call.
I know you’re all busy with holiday preparations, but why not use the sensory overload of the season to practice the Tao of your word choice. Wrap a gift and figure out exactly what word or phrase describes the paper you’re using. Mix the cookie dough and see if you can come up with a description so clear those of us who bake can actually see the bowl. And as you’re crawling in to bed at night, think of the words that describe how you really feel at that moment. Really, really feel.
Jane Gassner
