Feed me words
Writers are supposed to have a deep reservoir of words at their disposal. To be a concise wordsmith and minimalist I have to fill my brain with thousands of verbs, adjectives, and nouns. When reading, or listening to conversations, I should never say or think, "What does that mean?" But I do.
I don't think I have a large vocabulary, at least compared to some other writer types. I've been aware of this for a couple years. One reason why I feel my newspaper reporting was so stingy and dull — besides the fact I hated it — is because of my poor vocabulary.
It's strange. As I'm writing about my vocabulary I'm trying to strain it as much as possible. I'm trying to wring out every single drop, proving to myself I have an adequate knowledge of English. But that writing is stuffy. My former journalism adviser may call it willowy. Sorry, guys.
I try to be clear and concise with my writing. I don't dwell on definitions. I hate adjectives; they weaken verbs. I don't want to confuse the reader. I don't want to use words they don't know. That's one way journalism rubbed off on me. I write so everyone can understand. But, I think it's a good idea to go above and beyond the need of clarity. I want to be precise with my word choice. For that I need a larger vocabulary.
I've thought about reading the dictionary. Seriously, it's something I think I should do. It's a daunting task. I often stare at my copy, a Webster's New World College Dictionary, with its annoying dust jacket and the thick stack of pages peppered with red dots, and think, "How the fuck am I going to read all that? It'd take forever."
So, I've made a compromise. I've melded my need to know more words with my hesitation to read the dictionary. Every time I read or hear a word I don't know I'm going to find the definition as soon as I get the chance. I've been doing it for years, but from now on it's going to be the rule and not the exception. Today I've looked up three words; two I saw today and another I've had bothering my conscious for over a week. Here they are:
1) Nebulous
2) Talisman
3) Crestfallen
I had an idea of what "crestfallen" meant, but didn't know for sure. I saw "talisman" in a photo caption. "Nebulous" was the word bothering me forever. During one of my job interviews I asked a question and the manager started his answer with, "It's quite nebulous..." I thought, "What the hell does that mean?" I couldn't find it in my dictionary at home (maybe it's a good thing I'm not going to read it), and the query on my computer dictionary yielded no results. I tried Dictionary.com and finally found it. (For those of you who want to know, "Nebulous" is a noun and means hazy, vague, indistinct, or confused; other meanings include cloudy or cloudlike, and of or resembling a nebula. I know, I know. Too much information. But I'm bored at work. What else do you want me to do?)
Now I know three new words. All I have to do is put them to use.
I don't think I have a large vocabulary, at least compared to some other writer types. I've been aware of this for a couple years. One reason why I feel my newspaper reporting was so stingy and dull — besides the fact I hated it — is because of my poor vocabulary.
It's strange. As I'm writing about my vocabulary I'm trying to strain it as much as possible. I'm trying to wring out every single drop, proving to myself I have an adequate knowledge of English. But that writing is stuffy. My former journalism adviser may call it willowy. Sorry, guys.
I try to be clear and concise with my writing. I don't dwell on definitions. I hate adjectives; they weaken verbs. I don't want to confuse the reader. I don't want to use words they don't know. That's one way journalism rubbed off on me. I write so everyone can understand. But, I think it's a good idea to go above and beyond the need of clarity. I want to be precise with my word choice. For that I need a larger vocabulary.
I've thought about reading the dictionary. Seriously, it's something I think I should do. It's a daunting task. I often stare at my copy, a Webster's New World College Dictionary, with its annoying dust jacket and the thick stack of pages peppered with red dots, and think, "How the fuck am I going to read all that? It'd take forever."
So, I've made a compromise. I've melded my need to know more words with my hesitation to read the dictionary. Every time I read or hear a word I don't know I'm going to find the definition as soon as I get the chance. I've been doing it for years, but from now on it's going to be the rule and not the exception. Today I've looked up three words; two I saw today and another I've had bothering my conscious for over a week. Here they are:
1) Nebulous
2) Talisman
3) Crestfallen
I had an idea of what "crestfallen" meant, but didn't know for sure. I saw "talisman" in a photo caption. "Nebulous" was the word bothering me forever. During one of my job interviews I asked a question and the manager started his answer with, "It's quite nebulous..." I thought, "What the hell does that mean?" I couldn't find it in my dictionary at home (maybe it's a good thing I'm not going to read it), and the query on my computer dictionary yielded no results. I tried Dictionary.com and finally found it. (For those of you who want to know, "Nebulous" is a noun and means hazy, vague, indistinct, or confused; other meanings include cloudy or cloudlike, and of or resembling a nebula. I know, I know. Too much information. But I'm bored at work. What else do you want me to do?)
Now I know three new words. All I have to do is put them to use.
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