I don’t like to think of myself as having a favorite word, mostly because there are so many beautifully evocative ones out there, in many different languages, but I do. I more than like words, as anyone who has known me for more than an afternoon could tell you. I was the weird kid who freaked her mom out when she didn’t care about being grounded because all I wanted to do was read in the quiet of my room anyway. I scared her a little bit further when she found me reading–not just looking up one word, but actually reading–our large unabridged household copy of Webster’s Dictionary as though it were a gripping new novel. I hear myself sounding like that annoyingly pedantic know-it-all when I use the bigger words in my vocabulary just to hear the way they sound on the air, and I see the slightly glazed looks on some of the faces that don’t really care whether or I know what abecedarian means or whether it’s a good organizational paradigm. (See all those big words I just threw in there?) I see it, and I don’t care. Because my words are mostly for me. They’re my form of therapy, they cheer me up, and they never judge me for knowing too many of them. People, on the other hand, tell me I read too much, that I use too many big words, and treat me like some sort of freak because I learned to walk and read at the same time when I was ten years old. These are also the same people who used to cheat off my paper in English class, especially during a vocabulary lesson, so I don’t consider their opinions particularly valid when it comes to the subject of words.
So why couldn’t I just content myself to become an attorney, like everyone expected me to do? Attorneys, advertising executives and even librarians are people who make a steady paycheck from throwing around words for a living. If I had become a librarian, by the way, abecedarian is not the method that I would advise you to use to organize your books. Why did I have to become a writer? Why couldn’t I have managed a career doing both? Because none of those other jobs made me excited about the time I would spend with words. As a writer, of fiction in particular, I can learn whatever I want, whenever I want, and when I get tired of looking at the subject for the moment, I can put it down and my job doesn’t depend on whether or not I get bored for a few days. You decide you want a couple days’ break from being a lawyer and you haven’t scheduled a vacation, you’d better be okay with possibly being fired.
No, writing was for me. I wasn’t into keeping a regular diary like a lot of girls did when I was a teen, but I love(d) to tell myself stories and experiment with expressing my thoughts. So, when I wrote, that’s what came out. Some people saw my raw work, scribbled on college ruled notebook paper from the back of my binder, but mostly I wrote it for me. I didn’t need to share those scribbles with anyone, nor did I particularly want to do so. It wasn’t until I started getting good comments from my English teachers on my papers that I began to feel comfortable with showing my creative work to anyone; and even then, I didn’t read it aloud (unless forced) until I took a creative writing class.
So why is the title of this month’s blog “Serendipity?” It’s not because of the Kate Beckinsale/John Cusack movie, but Kate’s reason for loving the word is a valid one. It is quite lovely to say out loud. But my reason for loving the word is this: it reminds me when I’m writing about something dark or tragic (or going through it in real life) to keep in mind that it won’t always be that way, and that even the things that bring us down have a strange way of working themselves out eventually, even if only to serve to turn us into the person we are supposed to be in the next moment.
Serendipity, n.-the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way: a fortunate stroke of serendipity. I read so many blogs about making your character miserable because no one wants to read about someone happy. That’s true. But it’s also true that no one wants to read about someone who makes them feel more depressed than their real life already does. So, yeah, make your character have some tragic flaw that gets in their way and causes mayhem because that’s where your plot is. But your resolution lies in the serendipitous.
I wish you serendipitous happenings that will lead you to your favorite word, or acquaint you with one if you don’t have one yet. May the page turners be with you.
Thalia Huntley 