Tag: writing

A voice for vocabulary, aka, a rant on proper usage

The English language is tough and resilient and has evolved miraculously over centuries, but it takes a huge amount of abuse. Once every .003 nanoseconds, it is misused somehow, somewhere. It is time for someone to speak up on behalf of the voiceless, our lovely language, which, sadly, is unable to speak for itself, despite a slew of wise, wordy weapons in its arsenal.

Here I am going to take a stand on behalf of the proper use of vocabulary. It won’t be pretty, but I’m going to expose the improper uses of words and then show which words should have been used in their places. Brace yourselves. (These are in no particular order, mind you.)

  • “Unphased.” As in, “she was unphased by his poor use of the word.” The word that should be used here is “unfazed.”
  • “Reigned in.” I’ve seen this time and again. “She had to reign in her bad language.” “Reign” has to do with royalty. I do believe that those who have blue blood would be appalled at this improper use of “reign.” The word that should rightly stand here tall and stately is “rein.” When we talk about “reining in” a horse, we use a rein. Even queens do not “reign in” the animals that draw their carriages.
  • I heard something pretty funny in “The Hunger Games.” A character said something was “very lethal.” “Lethal” means something kills you. So if it’s “very” lethal… hm. You would be “very” dead. Brings to mind that the only way you can be somewhat dead as opposed to very dead is if you were Westley in “The Princess Bride…”: “mostly dead.”
  • “Bazaar.” Really, how often do people write about street fairs? Probably not as often as they desire to refer to something being “bizarre,” or really strange.
  • “Peddle.” More people find themselves needing to use the word “pedal” than its frequently used homonym “peddle.” “Pedal” as a verb means to move a bike along by pushing pedals with your feet. “Peddle” means to sell something. One could peddle pedals in a bizarre bazaar, if shoppers are in need of replacement parts for their bicycles.
  • Predominate. I rarely have need to use this word, and I rarely see anyone else need to use it or use it correctly. What I DO see, however, very often, is the use of this word instead of “predominant,” an adjective meaning “having influence or power” or being the “primary” focus of something. Just say the word out loud, folks. It has an “n” in it.

This is just a start, mind you. I expect to be adding lots more over time. Anyone care to weigh in?

OK, time to add some more.

  • Ravish. Most of the time people use this word in writing, they mean “ravage.” Ravish is generally associated with rape, or just a lusty man taking a woman strongly in a bodice-ripper book. But ravage is about wreaking havoc or destroying. Ravage a town, and the buildings are destroyed, the people scattered. Ravish the people of a town, and outsiders will feel particularly outraged.
  • Tenants. Whenever I see this word used, the writer invariably is talking about the belief system of a religion or just some kind of way of life. Today, fittingly enough, I read an article on HLN.com about “11 words adults just can’t spell.” I agreed with a few as being common errors (the others just didn’t seem to be the most-screwed-up ones, in my opinion), and then I clicked over to another article on HLN about Alanis Morissette giving her opinion about attachment parenting. Naturally, the article spoke of the “tenants” of that way of raising kids, when what it needed to say was the “tenets” of that philosophy. So I clicked right over from an article on spelling errors and found a biggie on MY list right there on another one. I couldn’t refrain from posting a comment on that one.

The writing blues

This post is dedicated to all the writers out there.

I have been published quite a bit in newspapers, I write for my own book review website, and I’ve contributed to other websites and book review publications here and there. But some other outlets have eluded me. I’ve written two articles for our church magazines (one for the Ensign and one for the children’s Friend) that the magazines have accepted and paid me for, but which have yet to see actual publication. Over the course of probably 5 to 10 years, I frequently tried to pitch story ideas to magazines but never got one to bite (except for once, and that was at the very beginning of the journey and I didn’t realize what had just happened, so I somehow dropped the ball and never followed through: perhaps I’m being punished karma-wise for that…). So I’ve essentially stuck to newspapers and their online counterparts more recently.

And then there’s the book project. I started working on a nonfiction book about mothering when my now-almost-16-year-old was about 3. Over the course of a year, I would get an idea and rush to my computer in the same hurried manner as one who is nauseated would rush to a toilet. The book is a series of vignettes that tie together my observations of how my little girl saw the world and how I remember being as a child myself, and then connecting my realization that I could understand finally what my mother had always related to me about her feelings and experiences raising me. For me, raising this amazing preschooler and her infant sister, it was all revelatory. I hoped that perhaps the ways I phrased these insights and the positive message would resonate with other women, whether they were mothers or grandmothers.

Well, I’m not the type of person to write strictly for the pleasure of writing. I mean, I do love the process, but I’m a goal-oriented, type-A personality gal. I don’t just dive into the creative process and emerge refreshed and satisfied with my work; I feel it must have some sort of audience (Along the lines of the truism if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?, one could say I think, if a writer puts pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and those words never see human eyes, did they ever exist?).  Someone must read my words.

So. Getting the words to an audience is the hard part. Writing is generally fun, occasionally frustrating, to be sure, but mostly a pleasant creative burst and satisfying work. Even editing is fun for me. But putting them in a forum where those sentences can be appreciated by other humans is a most unsatisfying business. It entails poring over websites, Writer’s Market tomes, and so on trying to find publishers or agents that will even consider my genre of writing. Then a perfect query letter that captures the essence of what I’ve tried to say in my book has to be crafted and sent to carefully vetted editors and agents. It entails a good number of trips to the post office. (I was on a first-name basis with some of the postal service workers in the office close to my house in Alabama while I was sending out packets in the push for publication of this book.)

Over the course of a year, I wrote the body of my grand oeuvre. Then I edited and reworked and re-edited. I changed the title. I overhauled. I went to a writers conference and had the manuscript looked at by a well-known agent. I reworked. I submitted countless query letters; I read books and articles and posts giving tips on how to craft the perfect query. In short, I was consumed by trying to get published.

There were a few bright spots in which a couple of agents requested more material after a query, but overall, I collected an astonishing number of rejection letters. They stuffed a file folder full. It was depressing, frustrating work into which I poured my whole soul and countless hours and stamps and got pretty much nowhere.

After those few years of work, I finally decided to self-publish. This was nearly 10 years ago, before the ebook, but at a time when you could easily self-publish using print on demand. But I had seen some “self-published” books that had gone through this quick and cheap process and I was not impressed with the result. They looked cheap and unprofessional, and if I was going to do this, I planned to do it right. So I decided to do it the “old-fashioned” way. I hired a book cover designer to create my cover; I investigated printers and finally selected one; I chose paper and materials. I edited and re-edited and did the layout myself. I ended up with a pretty nice-looking product. I chose to have 2000 copies printed because it wasn’t much different in cost to 1000.

I then researched how to market. I did the best I could to find outlets for my book and tried to snag a distributor, but that was just as difficult as finding a publisher! So I carried my book to some stores that were local and independent and were willing to consign the books or buy them outright. I did book signings in Birmingham and the Gulf Coast at cute indie stores. I set up a website and sent out tons of emails and put my book on Amazon.

I think I sold 200 copies. Now, I have boxes of books sitting in my garage in a neat stack in a far corner. I wonder if I should torch them. Or just recycle them.  Because honestly, when I go back and read my writing, I hate it. It sounds trite and goofy. It sounds like the cheesy, earnest books that somehow did get published that I generally disparage. Some people really did enjoy my book and my writing in general. But not nearly enough to empty all those boxes. I’d love to make room in my garage and clear those books out, but it just seems like I’d be throwing away money. Those boxes represent a few years’ worth of my life, of toil and sweat and (copious) tears, of unpaid work and investment of my husband’s hard-earned money. So I’ve kept them through one move to a different house in the same town and then a move all the way across the country. There they sit.

I’ve moved on. That project is behind me. I suppose I learned a lot from it. I’ve been able to help some friends who write and hope to get published as well; I’ve learned how the system works through my own trial and error and know how to help them. I am probably the harshest critic of my own work, as well, but from what I read, that’s not uncommon for any writer. I remember reading somewhere when J.K. Rowling published one of her Harry Potter books that she commented something like, “Well, it’s done, and it’s been sent to my editor, but I’m not really satisfied with it. I just know I’m not editing it anymore.” We as writers get sick of the same passage and still may not like it, but there comes a point we’re just done.

I’ve worked on a few other projects; I wrote a children’s book I thought was pretty clever and went through the whole process of query letters and rejections yet again (talk about soul-sucking and draining and depressing) with no result. My 9-year-old loves the story, though. I thought perhaps that was supposed to be my niche. Apparently not. I tried writing a young adult novel, and dedicated a month and about 70 pages to it and then took a break when my dad died. I never resumed because I just thought it was crap.

I’ve since decided my real talent is in writing nonfiction. I love to research and interview people. So I wrote a couple of articles for a large online news organization and have tried to do more research to make it a book. But that’s stalled because I haven’t found more people to interview.

And so goes the life of a frustrated writer. I absolutely must write. I must create. The urge to set ideas down on paper (or screen), to distill, to organize, to make something out of raw materials, is all-consuming. It just is who I am. I feel empty when I don’t write. The keyboard is an extension of my fingers and allows me to set in stone what are just swirling ideas in my consciousness. I don’t just enjoy writing; it is who I am. I’ve managed to write the whole time I’ve been a mother, despite interruptions and crazy schedules and the important needs of my family, because I wouldn’t feel whole if I didn’t.

So the process satisfies that part of my self, my personality. But the publishing is still something that eludes me. I desperately want to traditionally publish a real book. It is my end-all, be-all, pie-in-the-sky dream and goal. I’m almost 42 years old and I’m still stretching and striving toward it, shedding tears of frustration and wanting to hit walls with my fist (or head…) because it hasn’t happened yet. But I keep trying.

Here’s to goals. And dreams. And a toast to all those who are still striving for their own, whatever they may be. You writers, my fellow travelers, this tear’s for you.

An ode to words

Aren’t words wonderful? Some may argue (and rightly so) that the English language is crazy and difficult and full of rules that are just as often broken as they are adhered to. But I’m in awe of just how much can be said with all the delightful words that our language contains. We’ve adapted and co-opted words from all kinds of places and times and made them work for us. I have an utter reverence for what can be conveyed with the right use of vocabulary.

I think of our language as a toolkit full of a variety of tools, each just the right size and shape and weight to fit any job. But what dismays me is that most of our society today only carries around a mini-kit with a few basics (hammer, screwdriver, a few nails) which they use for every single need. I try to lug around the jumbo version of the toolkit (even the whole garage full of cupboards and shelves, sometimes) so I’ll be able to fit just the right tool to whatever I need to accomplish.

That’s what makes me particularly enamored of certain authors’ writing. Some authors are great storytellers, with vivid imaginations and tons of neat ideas for stories, but they’re not great writers (Stephenie Meyer has said this about herself, for example, and she’s absolutely right). But some authors can tell any story but make it compelling and beautiful because of the words they select from their kits and how they put them together in seemingly fresh ways.

I love to use my thesaurus. It’s full of options to help find just the right word to convey the perfect meaning. But as with any tool, it must be used correctly. Many people have the mistaken notion that they can take out a thesaurus and pick willy-nilly any word out of the synonyms listed. Wrong. Each word in our language has a very precise meaning that, if the writer or speaker and the reader and listener both know it, can communicate meaning as well as is possible with language (of course, communication is a whole other topic; let’s just say that spoken or written language is only a small part of communication, so since that’s the case, we’d better be sure to be careful with the words we do use so we can communicate as effectively as possible). The ideal use of the thesaurus is to stimulate our thinking and allow our brain to go through its options and then select the best one. We still must know the exact meaning of each synonym, because synonyms are merely similar words, not usually exact matches. Even identical twins have slight differences in appearance, voices, and certainly personalities, don’t they?

So as a writer, I like to look at the thesaurus when I have a general idea of what I’m trying to express. Glancing through the list of synonyms of any given word can help my brain to make connections and eventually say, Aha! That’s exactly what I’d like to say. As an editor of other people’s writing, I have to use the thesaurus to help them come up with the word that’s going to say what they obviously mean to say in the context of their topic and sentence or paragraph. I often think as I’m reading someone else’s raw work, I do not think that means what you think it means (thanks to Inigo and Vizzini of “The Princess Bride”). Sometimes their efforts are unwittingly comical; sometimes they could even be potentially offensive, egregiously misleading or just plain wrong.

Given that I do a lot of editing, then, and I see many misuses of language, I am so appreciative of the writers who have honed their craft and lovingly put to use the full toolkit of the language. Each word, carefully chosen, can instantly create a picture in my mind, complete with emotions and sensations. Every word has nuances and layers of meaning, and used well can convey those layers in just one perfect word, allowing a writer to write concisely but elegantly. A writer with a shallow portable toolkit will have to use many more simple words to get a message across that could be portrayed nicely with one or two words in the hands of a skilled writer with an excellent grasp of vocabulary.

I’m not saying that we should all use “hoity-toity” vocabulary at all times or words that are just rarely used and never understood. But there are so many options that are rich in meaning that can communicate effectively that people don’t bother to use. As a parent, I’ve always used my regular vocabulary to speak to my children, rather than trying to “dumb down” what I say in baby talk. I might rephrase something in simpler language so they can understand, but then I’ll also use the richer words so they can hear them in context and learn. And as they read, just as I did growing up and still do now, they (and I) can learn new words just through context and, if they’re so inclined, looking them up in the dictionary.

Even as I write, I’m now self-conscious about how I wrote. Did I convey exactly what I wanted to express? Did I use just the right words? I hope so. I’m not one of the most gifted writers out there, but I hope that I can at least say what I mean to say. And my hat’s off to those amazing writers who have transported me because of their judicious use of language.

Welcome to my inner world

My brain has always been full of ideas and interests. In high school, I participated in band, the school paper, the speech and drama team, and a variety of academic competitions. I took piano lessons. I enjoyed all of my classes, English and math and science. When I went to college, I decided to major in journalism because I enjoyed it so much, but also because I felt it would give me an opportunity to still investigate and learn about a variety of topics as I wrote about them (or edited what other people were writing). I still love to learn about almost anything, and reading and book reviewing has given me a great way to delve into tons of topics. I feel I’ve become somewhat specialized in a few areas, and I have a few particular interests I feel particularly passionate about enough to blog on. So this site will be the umbrella for the various topics I’d like to address, which will include, for the time being, books, beauty and self-image, mental health, home and family life, and then just whatever else I’d like to share. Feel free to contribute to the discussion by commenting.

Cathy Carmode Lim