Were they dust, they would smother you...

It's all to do with words. 

Words.

I consider myself a fan of a good pun, a soul stirring song lyric, an arduously assembled alliteration or simply well crafted syntax.  

Words. 

An adage of stones and sticks posing more harm than words, is preposterous, for no more devastating a weapon exists. Poe speaks of the impression of words by the exquisite horror of their reality. Kipling calls them the most powerful drug used by mankind. 

Words. 

I revere them.  

I collect them. 

I occasionally choose them wisely. 

My first journal at the age of twelve was completed with immense pride, an emotion only rivaled by the immense embarrassment felt as I rediscovered its content many years later and promptly disposed of it.

Still, my book shelves and attic boxes contain volumes of my rantings, including a brief "slam poetry" phase... which I kept, but will remain unseen to the unauthorized eye. 

Words. 

So many words.  

A significant contribution to this admiration is due to my parents' appreciation for the written word. Fondly, I recall picking out a book for my Dad to read before bed. Length was important, for it prolonged the inevitable bedtime, but The Lorax held its own in popularity.

Words. 

I have had such a love affair with words. 

My fifth and final role, is as a writer. 

I want to write words. 

I want people to read those words. 

I want those words to change those people. 

Seeking to develop love for words into a skillful art requires much. 

I am realizing the weight of undertaking as I start to make strategies and take practical developmental steps. Hoping to counteract my personal habits with follow through, I have given myself small, attainable goals. 

1. Write words daily. 

2. Publish words weekly. 

A chord of three strands is not easily broken, therefore I have assembled a family of fellow logophiles as my team; entrusting them to dissect my writings with a fine toothed comb. I have commissioned these six souls to constructively demolish (oxymoron?) my writings and all willingly obliged. 

Keepers of my words. 

I have aspirations that go well beyond these two goals set before me. For now, I act with grace, intention, and hope for growth. 

 

Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly -- they’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced.

-Aldous Huxley