The Power of Words

As someone who spends a lot of their time immersed in the world of words, sometimes I lose a grip on why I love it so much. It's not that I lose hope in words, or that I fall out of love with language, it's that I become so blind to what I'm doing and so exhausted from constant work, that sometimes I forget about the spark that ignites in me whenever I read or write.

Now, from being in this community for a long time, I know that's not particularly uncommon. And frankly, we all need breaks from things we do a lot, even if we love them. Hence reading slumps, writer's block, etc. But sometimes, after long months of being uninspired, in rare moments when the cosmos seem to bleed together and brew the perfect moment, you're reminded just of why words are so powerful.

For me this happened a few weeks ago. It was a grey day, the first chill of autumn creeping into the air. I'd been slowly chugging my way through "Big Magic" by Elizabeth Gilbert, and on this day I was possessed by an inexplicable desire to devour it. So I sat down in a free hour I had and sped through the ending of the book. Upon finishing it, my eyes were wide, my heart was pounding, and every thought of mine was refocused back to writing.

It had been a long time since I'd been so inspired. Her writing is beautiful, of course, and her metaphors are masterful, but she also has that magic that she writes about. Her words carry with them a preternatural ability to move you, to get you out of your worries and fears and onto the computer to get writing, or acting, or whatever it is you love and want to pursue.

As she urged the reader, "So please calm down now and get back to work, okay? The treasures that are hidden inside you are hoping you will say yes," I felt electric, like I'd been struck with the brilliance and the magic of the world upon which us writers and readers operate.

But I couldn't sit and stew on this moment. I couldn't revel in the energy that coursed through me, or jump on the train of adrenaline that was making my fingers itch to write. I'd bought tickets to see Porsha Olayiwola perform "Black and Ugly As Ever," and it was time for me to leave.

So, still radiating the creativity that Gilbert had instilled, I hopped on the train and shot over to see Olayiwola's performance. And needless to say, it was incredible. As she whisked us through her life, her experiences, and the flaws in our culture, I felt that energy in me heightening. It didn't fizzle, or drain out as sometimes happens when you let it sit. Instead, it grew, multiplying and spawning something I hadn't felt in a long time.

As Olayiwola stood before a crammed club and bellowed, "I'm so black I'm not alive, just not buried yet" and "Every time I twirled my afro out, I knew I was some kind of rebellion," I felt the energy in the room crackling.

My world was flowing and ebbing, the fibers of my brain coming undone and forging themselves anew. See, it is rare moments like that where the power of words becomes so apparent, so intense that it overwhelms you, that it seems to beat in every breath in the sweaty room, seems to twine with the stars and sing in the streets. It is not every day that you feel so intensely, so powerfully about how much words mean and the command they hold. Experiences like those are fleeting, blessings in a way. And I couldn't be more grateful.

You see, I was in a slump, dawdling in an unmotivated state. I hadn't written in weeks, I was barely getting through novels. I felt like I was drowning in work, and the world was starting to look more and more bland.

But words are more powerful than that. They are sometimes wretched and cruel, but they are powerful. And when you need them most, they sweep through and remind you just why you love them so much.

So if you are in the position I was in just a few weeks ago—feeling uninspired, not good enough, lost, or dazed—then let this be my beckon to you. Re-immerse yourself in the world of words. Don't give up, don't lose yourself now.

Keep chipping away at that novel you're reading, write a little bit every day, even if you have to gut the words out of yourself. Because I promise, you'll get your moment as well. You won't be uninspired forever.

As long as you keep trying, inspiration will strike again, and you'll remember awe-inspiring power of words for whatever reason it was.

And once they do, you'll be unstoppable.

Chekhov's Gun

This post deals more with the technicalities of writing, and I would consider it to describe a strategy for analyzing descriptions in the story, and truly looking at whether or not you are being superfluous in description.

Chekhov's Gun is essentially the principle that the details and memorable elements to the story must be purposeful, or have a role later in the story. In his words, "Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there."

The reason I think this is worth talking about, and a genuinely good rule to follow is it enhances your story in that it is more engaging.

If every detail or element to the story ultimately has a purpose, your readers will forever be guessing at how everything will tie together, and it will cause them to scour the book's details and mentions for clues at what will happen next.

This is huge to keep people not just flipping from one page to the next, but genuinely captured by the story.

In practice, I think this is also a really fantastic way to cut down your word count in editing should you find yourself with one that's too large. It will force you to weed out that which you don't need, and leave you a story that is tight and interactive, and would likely help to clean up some of the writing or even bits of the plot.

Now, this isn't to say you shouldn't describe anything unless every word in the description has a meaning later, but it is a good way to look at symbols or objects and what role they could play. Again, describing someone's features, or building the word is vital to the story, so you can't take it out solely on the principle it's not coming back as part of the plot, but it is a cool device to use with objects or concepts that you know will be part of your plot later in the novel.