Words

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup;
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe.
— John Lennon

I am a logophile, a lover of words. I am also a bibliophile, a lover of books. I read books. I read magazines. I read articles on websites. I read all of the time. Whenever I encounter a new word or a word whose meaning escapes me, I write it down. Depending on how critical the term is to the meaning of the text I’m reading, I will immediately set about finding its definition or I’ll set it aside for a later consultation session with the dictionary.

Many times words evaporate from my short-term memory rather quickly. At other times, a word seems to take root in the humus of my consciousness and becomes part of my lexicon. Words flow and percolate through my thoughts, frequently appearing without any provocation or conjuring. When I write, words appear and vie for my attention. Some of those words have multiple syllables and reference abstruse, recondite ideas (even redundantly); some are commonplace and easily understood.

The words appearing in my writings are there because they seem appropriate to what I want to say. I know words can be intimidating and, often, writers use them to project a sense of erudition or sophistication. I make no claims to erudition or sophistication; I do, however, seem to have some ability to shape and structure language and the words I string together are a reflection of that innate talent (so to speak).

In other words, I will strive to write a clearly and cogently as possible, but don’t mistake the presence of a $.50 word here or there as being pretentious or pompous on my part. Words happen.