How I fell in love with language …

"... a love of language 
is the gift that keeps giving 
it doesn’t need me 
to push boundaries 
that feel boundless ..."

I’ve been experimenting with writing exercises recently, working my way through Beth Kempton’s The Way of the Fearless Writer.  It’s prompted new poems about subjects I would’ve been unlikely to write about previously.  It amazes me that the smallest thing can inspire you to take a different path.  

I’ve written poems about things I’ve heard on the radio; people’s stories are endlessly fascinating and I cannot help but be moved to write a response, if only for myself.  Other people’s experiences often resonate because they remind you of something in your own life.  You find a connection, no matter how tenuous.  Of course, it isn’t only people who can do this.  There’s been a lot of coverage this year of David Attenborough’s amazing career, as the world celebrates his milestone birthday.  Who hasn’t been touched by the footage of his encounter with gorillas?  

Nature can be a huge source of inspiration too.  Is it just me, or does your heart miss a beat when you see a rainbow?  I love rainbows; they feel like a sign that things will work out.  

I don’t always find it easy to find the right word when I’m writing.  When I’ve written a poem, I have to live with it for a while, keep going back to it, often tweaking a word or two.  Like bread straight out of the oven, it needs time to settle.  I’m ever conscious that my command of the English language is not as good as I’d like it to be.  My school days spanned the 70’s and 80’s.  We weren’t taught English grammar quite so rigorously as previous generations.  I was never encouraged, at school, to learn poems by heart (although I did have to learn the entire Gospel of Luke, which is another story).  

But I fell in love with words.  I devoured books because I loved to discover other people’s stories and experiences.  One particular year at Secondary School, we had a double English lesson on a Friday afternoon, when we had to write “A Composition”.  Most of my school mates bemoaned this lesson, struggling to know what to write.  But I was in my element and never struggled to think up a story.  

I’ve been writing ever since and yet it’s still true that I can’t always find the right word.  One of my prized possessions is a battered Roget’s Thesaurus, bought for me when I was at university by a dear friend.  It’d be the book I’d take to the Desert Island, along with my 12 discs (I simply can’t narrow it down to 8, sorry Radio 4).  

That said, I’m not the type to adopt an unusual word just for the sake of it.  I do think people sometimes use language as a form of showing off.  That’s not my style.  I’d rather keep it simple and accessible.   I want to connect with others, not intimidate them.  

One of the writing exercises in Beth Kempton’s book encouraged the reader to experiment with inventing words.  It was just a bit of fun, but I found it both difficult and uncomfortable.  There are already so many neglected words, why should I need to invent more to describe emotions and experiences that’ve been with us for time immemorial?  Yes, of course, sometimes there’s a need to create words for new things that simply didn’t exist before, such as the internet.  But given my writing is mostly about feelings, then I think the English Dictionary and my battered Thesaurus will do just fine.