The Scribbly One

I had another “I wish I’d thought of that!” moment today. I chanced upon this site and fell in love with its tagline:

Pesky’apostrophe: Always better than an unexpected period

So much better than “Scribbler’s Scribbled Scribblings”. Bah!

American spelling is supposed to have cut out all the redundancies found in British spelling. So why does fulfil, skilful and instalment all contain double ‘l’s where the British spelling only requires one?

“So, when will I be seeing you?” I asked.

“Let me get my shit together first.”

“You mean your shit is scattered?”

“It hit the fan.”

“My goodness! It must be splattered all over!”

“Yes, and the fan was on high speed, too.”

“That must really stink.”

“Uh-huh.”

From the latest issue of The Word Detective:

Dear Word Detective: Years ago I used a word that means a person who gives unwanted advice. I cannot, for the life of me, remember that word! Do you know? If so, I would like it back, please. — Randy

I feel your pain. There really ought to be an Office of Lost Words one could call in predicaments such as yours, those times when we know the perfect word exists and have even used it in the past, but, upon summoning it again, find that the little scamp has skittered down one of the rabbit holes of the mind, leaving us in the lurch. Perversely, the very aptness of the word often seems to make it especially elusive, and, while the lost word is rarely exotic, pawing through a dictionary or thesaurus almost never produces the fugitive. The upshot is intense frustration tinged with the suspicion that one’s brain is going mushy. Speaking of neurology, I know a person who claims that looking down and slightly to the left helps her remember such things. I’d give her method a try, but I’m afraid that if it worked it would mean that my head is not properly attached, which would be far more depressing than misplacing one little word.

I think I’m in love. Yes, again. It is positively criminal to be able to write like that. Such talent should be outlawed.

Back to Poor Randy and the Lost Word: According to treasure hunter Evan Morris, the lost word was kibitz, which, he helpfully adds, “rhymes with lib hits”.

Wonderful site - random people talking about their favourite word and why it is their favourite. Reminds me why I love words so much. How could I ever pick a favourite?

However, there are at least three words I hate, simply because they are so difficult to spell: manoeuvre, diarrhoea, and mischievous.

“My friend… he’s not the straight type.”

“You mean he’s the crooked type?” I asked.

He grinned. “The curly type.” Pause. “You knew what I meant, right?”

“Of course I knew. I was just being difficult.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to be easy, would you?”

People say you must first read in order to be able to write. That’s long been a belief I share.

Look at all the great writers: every single one was a voracious reader. Perhaps reading sows seeds in the imagination, perhaps it teaches us the wonder of paying attention to the images we see in our heads, perhaps it gives us the words to use to describe those ever-changing pictures. Whatever it does, one thing is clear: reading supports writing.

But I have, I feel, wasted ten years of my life reading ‘trash’. As a friend once said, for a bibliophile, I’ve read all the wrong books.

The truth is that trash is easier to read. Undemanding and comforting in its very predictability, trash doesn’t demand intense concentration or a focussed mind. It neither stimulates thought nor requires chewing and digesting.

So I am a lazy reader. I read only to be entertained, and, in some ways, to escape. I do not want to engage my faculties any deeper than the very minimum required for mindless enjoyment.

Somehow, in my mind, my reading habits have come to be associated with lax morals. As an aspiring writer, I am ashamed of my lax morals, evidenced by my choice of dubious reading matter. I am convinced my actions have adversely affected my reputation and standing within the writing community. I believe I will never be a good writer because I have not read good books.