One of the simplest insights in writing is that words matter.<\/p>\n
That sounds so perilously obvious that I ought to scurry away from it and come up with something a little more rewarding. Maybe a list of 100 Fancy Words that everyone ought to use more.<\/p>\n
Inimical But \u2013 y\u2019know \u2013 that kind of approach to writing mostly leads to unreadable rubbish. I\u2019ve published over two million words in my career. I\u2019ve probably used the word inimical<\/em> from that list. Maybe ductile<\/em>. Certainly canticle<\/em>. I seriously doubt if I\u2019ve used the others without a kind of \u2018Oooh, look at me\u2019 glitter in my eye when I did.<\/p>\n The fact is that the vocabulary that you have \u2013 that you are genuinely master of \u2013 is almost certainly sufficient. You just have to use the right damn word.<\/p>\n What\u2019s more, the vocabulary you already have is a place of treasure. It is richer and brighter and with more movement and dazzle than you realise. But you probably aren\u2019t using it. You are, quite likely, drawing from the easy first five thousand words, the ones you use all the time, every day, week in, week out. But native English-speakers typically have a comfortable range of 20-35,000 words. Those aren\u2019t words you use all the time, yet they\u2019re words that you can deploy perfectly easily when the need arises. (See the PSes for a brilliant website where you can test your vocab.)<\/p>\n Here\u2019s what I mean:<\/p>\n How often in a year do I use the word cockle<\/em>? Answer, very seldom. But when my older girl came home with a cockle shell she\u2019d found somewhere, I knew what to call it. When my older boy was recently diagnosed with possible appendicitis<\/em>, I knew perfectly well what the doctor meant, even though I might not have used the word once in the five years beforehand.<\/p>\n So you have a broad vocabulary of words you understand perfectly well. But do you use them, my friend?<\/em><\/u> That\u2019s the whole soul and purpose of this email. Do you use the words you have?<\/p>\n Right now, you can do this for me. And I mean RIGHT NOW THIS MINUTE, YOU LAZY DONKEY<\/strong>.<\/p>\n Open up your current manuscript and bring up a random page. Not one with too much dialogue, but apart from that, any page you like.<\/p>\n And ask yourself: are the words you use interesting or boring?<\/p>\n Specifically, do your words feel like they\u2019re all drawn from the Dull Five Thousand? Or the glittering parades that beyond those plodding, quotidian footsoldiers?<\/p>\n So here\u2019s a sentence made up of the Dull Five Thousand:<\/p>\n A bird had somehow got into the room and, unable to find a way out, flapped feebly at the windows<\/em>.<\/p>\n Here\u2019s a sentence that draws richly from the glittering parades:<\/p>\n There was the ballroom, gleaming and empty, where once \u2013 in the chill of late autumn \u2013 Alma had encountered a trapped hummingbird, which had shot past her ear in the most remarkable trajectory (a jewelled missile, it seemed, fired from a tiny cannon.)<\/em><\/p>\n This second sentence (from Elizabeth Gilbert\u2019s brilliant The Signature of All Things<\/em>) doesn\u2019t use any fancy vocab in the sussuration<\/em> sense of fancy. But \u2013 ballroom, encountered, hummingbird, trajectory, jewelled, missile, cannon<\/em> \u2013 it draws happily and broadly and precisely from our thirty-thousand word storeroom and creates treasure on the page.<\/p>\n And you can do the same. You know the word cannon<\/em>. And ballroom<\/em>. And trajectory<\/em>. And jewelled<\/em>. Those words aren\u2019t even hard or obscure. They don\u2019t live at the outer reaches of your vocabulary. They are yours to use.<\/p>\n If you look at your manuscript and find your language feels a little dull, then pay close attention to the nouns especially. The dumb way to enrich your work is to take a boring sentence and shove it full of la-di-da adjectives, with one or two ridiculous verbs thrown in for good measure:<\/p>\n A pulchritudinous bird had somehow inveigled its way into the grandiloquent room and, unable to find a manner of egress, flapped disconsolately at the unfortunately glazed windows.<\/em><\/p>\n If you anchor your sentence with some excellent nouns (ballroom, autumn, hummingbird, trajectory, missile, cannon<\/em>), the rest of the sentence kind of falls into place. You can use adjectives from the Solid Five Thousand (empty, late, tiny<\/em>) and the sentence does fine. You can throw in some slightly more splendiferous items too (gleaming, trapped, jewelled<\/em>) and the sentence remains beautifully balanced.<\/p>\n Pay attention to the nouns first. The rest is easy.<\/p>\n That\u2019s it from me. Go and burrow in the PSes, though. There lie riches<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" One of the simplest insights in writing is that words matter. That sounds so perilously obvious that I ought to scurry away from it and come up with something a little more rewarding. Maybe a list of 100 Fancy Words that everyone ought to use more. InimicalCrepuscularUllulateChiasmusArborealSussurationDuctileCanticleColostomy But \u2013 y\u2019know \u2013 that kind of approach<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":32,"featured_media":6319,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[29292],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6317","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-harrys-friday-email"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
Crepuscular
Ullulate
Chiasmus
Arboreal
Sussuration
Ductile
Canticle
Colostomy<\/em><\/p>\n