Words
I know for some people, music with words is a no-no when they write. I love classical music, and I do write to it. Also jazz. But I have, of late, discovered words in my music are just fine while writing. This is because I recognize the poetry in the lyrics. The Arcade Fire . . . I love this band, and their lyrics are amazingly simple, but their music so complex. They, right now, fill me with AWE. Fat Boy Slim--I love the way they merge music and lyrics with their beats. John Hiatt--the man is a poet.
As a writer, I am inspired that words can be used to create something so utterly lovely and perfect. Something that soothes your soul or makes you FEEL. Something that wakes you up when you are tired, or can move you to have a good cry.
I've always known the power of words. When I get a letter from a breast cancer survivor's husband about Do They Wear High Heels in Heaven, or from someone who has been touched by a book, then I can't help but be aware.
The power of words has helped me advocate for my kids in the school system to make sure they get in the classes they need. Or to make sure that an unacceptable situation in school stops. People get my letters and realize, "This sounds VERY lawyer-like, we had better pay attention before she really brings out the legal guns." I am not rude--just insistent and articulate. If that makes me sound like a lawyer, fine.
And all of this reminds me of how words can wound. As I watch yet again someone like the Evil Woman I Shall Not Name Who Surely Is Going to Hell, who said, on national TV, that she wished John Edwards--a man who has had a son die, whose wife has uncurable cancer, who has two young children and an older daughter--had been killed in a terrorist act, I am stunned. What is wrong with people?
I will, as a writer, defend a person's right to say whatever they want. I do. All the time. Even the ugliest of crap like the evil woman's chronic dialogue of hate. But I appreciate Buddhism, which says SPEAK LESS. And I appreciate, especially, what I do for a living. I know the power of words. I respect them. I love listening to words crafted around lyrics. I love writing loving notes to people I care about. I love that I can express joy and beauty and wit and sadness with the words that pop into my head.
I understand the power of words.
Thoughts?
As a writer, I am inspired that words can be used to create something so utterly lovely and perfect. Something that soothes your soul or makes you FEEL. Something that wakes you up when you are tired, or can move you to have a good cry.
I've always known the power of words. When I get a letter from a breast cancer survivor's husband about Do They Wear High Heels in Heaven, or from someone who has been touched by a book, then I can't help but be aware.
The power of words has helped me advocate for my kids in the school system to make sure they get in the classes they need. Or to make sure that an unacceptable situation in school stops. People get my letters and realize, "This sounds VERY lawyer-like, we had better pay attention before she really brings out the legal guns." I am not rude--just insistent and articulate. If that makes me sound like a lawyer, fine.
And all of this reminds me of how words can wound. As I watch yet again someone like the Evil Woman I Shall Not Name Who Surely Is Going to Hell, who said, on national TV, that she wished John Edwards--a man who has had a son die, whose wife has uncurable cancer, who has two young children and an older daughter--had been killed in a terrorist act, I am stunned. What is wrong with people?
I will, as a writer, defend a person's right to say whatever they want. I do. All the time. Even the ugliest of crap like the evil woman's chronic dialogue of hate. But I appreciate Buddhism, which says SPEAK LESS. And I appreciate, especially, what I do for a living. I know the power of words. I respect them. I love listening to words crafted around lyrics. I love writing loving notes to people I care about. I love that I can express joy and beauty and wit and sadness with the words that pop into my head.
I understand the power of words.
Thoughts?
Labels: written word
posted by Erica Orloff at 6:43 AM
4 Comments:
Buddhism tells me to speak less, and Catholicism tells me to watch my words. (Something to remember during the editing process.) ;)
Hi Heather:
I was raised in the "if you can't say anything nice . . ." school. I abhor the climate of hate in this country . . . BUT I would not advocate censorship. I just watch my own words.
This post really speaks to me. I'm working through my editor's revision letter and learning the beauty of deleting a word here, adding a phrase there, turning around a sentence somewhere else. It's been an amazing day.
barrie:
I have learned that too--single word changes that just make a sentence more lyrical or stronger.
Enjoy the revision!
E
Post a Comment
<< Home