The sun settles behind the mountains
as we wind around another bend
of the valley road.
The SUV's dash flashes in dim neon
as it illuminates
Music is on high
as my two best friends are caught
amidst the throes of laughter
stemming from their cacophonous
attempt at singing
We have been driving for almost fourteen hours
and are mere minutes from our destination:
Our final home of a millennium
as the greased dial grinds to "20"
Where better to be when Y2K hails?
I am in the front passenger seat.
I am looking out its window into nothingness.
I am crying.
I like to let my poems speak for themselves, therefore I’m not particularly keen on prefacing them with any sort of context such as this. However, I feel it necessary to break that wall now so that I’m clear on one thing: I’m not depressed. If you’ve read within this space before, you’re aware that I enjoy writing about mental health–particularly my experiences with it. This is one such occasion. As always, thanks for reading:
A thought is lurking
I'm aware of its
But I've chosen to
Not so much ignore
As push it
Beyond other thoughts
From its pain
This is unhealthy
I know this
What else shall I do
Away, away please
Past the clouds into
I'm certain we will
Until then, away
My life in vintage colorsMemories of simpler timesSilver robots; red wagonsSilly neighbors; street paradesA life of unhinged laughterAmens before the altarReal Santa’s; make-believe friendsRabbit-like cars; in-car phonesWithin the Heights of RichmondOn a Terrace named HighlandDreams wake; reality sleepsThe imagined; magic reigns.
One of the reasons I began this blog is because I have a passion for writing, grammar, linguistics, and the hope to improve your own writing–however little or much that encompasses your life. Whether we like it or not, and fairly or unfairly, people will judge us based on our grammar and spelling in something as simple as an email. So, books, blogs, and that company memo aside, it’s best that we’re wary of our writing even during the most mundane task. And there’s no better way to do that than empowering ourselves with the greatest tool of all: vocabulary.
Recently, I was reading linguist David Crystal’s book The English Language and came across a passage about William Shakespeare’s estimated vocabulary versus the average person’s, but now I can’t find it, and am essentially rereading the book in search of it (that’s what I get for not bookmarking it–lesson learned). Therefore, instead I found some useful sites opining on the very subject, including this one, which estimates Shakespeare knew approximately 66,534 words; and this one, citing that the typical person has a spoken vocabulary of about 5,000, a written vocabulary of roughly 10,000, and that the average fourteen-year-old’s vocabulary decreased from 25,000 in 1950 to a mere 10,000 in 1999. Now, Shakespeare is more than the sum of his words, and you may not aspire to be him, but this comparison should at the very least point to the correlation between a good vocabulary and good writing.
OK, great–so, how do you get there? Well, you can either open up a dictionary daily (not a bad thing, albeit mundane–unless you’re a grammar geek such as myself), or you can read. And, no, your social media site of choice doesn’t count. I’m talking about something substantial, exhibiting many (new) words, and the way they coalesce with one another. You know: books. We live in a world where information is at our fingertips; one where we likely don’t go into any decision blindly, so why should we go into our daily lives of text messages, emails, and social media posts with the shades drawn? The only way one can truly improve their vocabulary is to interact with different words regularly, and there’s no better way to do so than reading a good book.
All are fiction, and while I also read plenty of non-fiction, these were strictly the best written books I’ve read in the past twelve months. Not only are they all great stories, but the breadth of language used, and the artful way they’re each composed, makes them the great novels they are. What’s more, each compelled me to have my dictionary app available at all times, though if you’re struggling to get into reading I’d start with a notepad and a pencil (and look up the words when you’re finished) so you don’t interrupt your enjoyment, because books are meant to be enjoyed. And that’s the point: to actively enjoy doing something, while passively improving your vocabulary, and ultimately your writing.