QuickRant. For Writers. 28 May 2018.

I don’t mean this rant to defend wordsmiths, but the fact of the matter is that words count.

The ability of human beings to dominate this planet – for better or for ill has depended one thing as its foundation. Communication. An opposable thumb didn’t hurt – but the ability to communicate shoved us to the top of the tree.

We are now apex predators. Think about Joe the caveman. Joe was prey. Then suddenly Joe learned something. He looked at Frank who was living in the next cave over.

And he thought ‘hold on a second. Frank is over here, let’s have a chat.’

So he says to Frank. ‘That Cave Bear that ate Susan the other day, it’s an issue. Not many Susan’s around. So he says to Frank ‘Why don’t you stand at the top of the cliff and throw a rock at that bear’s head while I sit here and shout to attract its attention?’

And everyone had Cave Bear soup that evening.

And what made the difference between eating Cave Bear and being eaten by a Cave Bear? Words. Communication.

Apparently, the ideal size of any society is around 200 people. Our brains can’t deal with more information about individuals. We start to forget things that make that society tick over. Joe the caveman might have eaten Frank by mistake. But he didn’t – because they had a chat.

Communication is at the foundation of what makes us human beings. And today that means part of a global society.

Now. When people ask writers what they do, the response to ‘I write’ is usually a sniff and the implied thought of ‘why don’t you get a proper job?’ There’s a word for people like this.

They are imbeciles.

Words have power.

‘I have a dream’

‘Peace in our time’

‘One small step for man’

‘We shall fight them on the beaches’

These words did not spring up fully formed like weeds in an untended garden.

Someone thought long and hard – and tended to their mental space until those words reached open air.

Words are not cheap.

Everything has a cost. That is the reality of the world we live in. Every single thing you encounter is a part of a commercial transaction. Love, beauty, baked beans. Everything has a cost.

So, the next time you encounter a writer who struggles to make ends meet. Don’t sniff and turn away. You have no idea what those words cost. The pain and anguish that each word has cost those scribblers is not something that is free of charge.

Because it’s the loneliest job in the world.

It requires that you live in your head all the time. It forces you to look at the world through eyes that must take everything in and process it at the speed of light.

And it makes you build a web of reference. A general knowledge. It forces you to become an expert in a whole lot of stuff. Philosophy, politics, the natural world. Canning of those baked beans.

And know this you readers. I am not trying to make you think that writers are dying for an art. But those words are like children. It has taken blood, sweat and tears to make them dance for your amusement and hopefully, thought. They are not cheap.

And this post is for all of you writers. It’s pain and terrible headaches. But each and every word that dances, each and every paragraph that gives you that secret hug that words can give is a gift. It’s worth the effort when they sing. And that beautiful lullaby is what puts us to sleep in the evening and at the same time makes us wake up in the middle of the night.

It’s not monsters under the bed. It’s those imbecile children singing that song. Those terrible infants made up of letters that need to be put in order so that they can sing a song of beauty. And I hate them so much. And I love them.

Because those words that float in your head can change the world.