Words, words, wrods....

Lately themes have started showing up in my life. It's rather strange, like some James Joyce is out there, pulling strings and saying, "Oh, and this would parallel nicely!" I'm usually very careful about my verbiage, because I do understand the power of the written word. The written word has to stand the test of time. It will be out there forever, unlike the manuscript that may remain hidden under the bed, to be enjoyed by the dust-bunnies alone.

The theme started with a discussion of criticism for education and criticism for sour-grapes. Can a writer stand unmoved by criticism? The short answer is 'no.' Writers are pretty much the most emotive people I know. They hide it very well, but trust me, there's a cauldron of emotional droppings boiling and popping under the surface. However, these two truths remain self-evident: One. People will always criticize your work. Some you'll never know about, but it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. And two: writing is a craft, just like painting and macramé. You make a mistake that you don't know you made, someone points it out, and boom, next time, you won't make that mistake again, or perhaps not at the same level. So, yes, writers get hurt by criticism, and yes, criticism can help. But there's chaff criticism and wheat criticism, and a writer has to figure out what's chaff and what's wheat. And that's a tough job. I have to say, that I have two of the best critique partners in the world, with a high-wheat output. I've been lucky, and I think it's helped me to ascertain what's valuable to my craft and what's not.

The next little episode in my criticism theme is a post I made on a loop. Usually, I pride myself on being erudite and scholarly (no snickering, please), keeping all emotion out of the point I'm making. The emotion I save for the books. However, this time I suspect I unwittingly insulted someone who I consider an old friend, without a bit of emotion at all. Can I fix it? I don't know, I'll try. But the words were put out, not to insult, but to educate, and in the process, I suspect I harmed someone I didn't mean to at all.

The last little episode is someone telling tales out of school, and causing a general kerfuffle about the incident. The tellee thought she was doing the professional thing, but unfortunately, most of the others involved didn't feel that way. And the words are already out, zinging their way through broadband connections everywhere. Sides have been taken, swords have been drawn, and lawsuits were threatened. Badness, all because of words, or in these case, wrods, which is a word used badly.

Never assume that your words won't be misinterpreted, misquoted, mistaken, or misanthroped. Writing is such a solitary sport that you often forget the reader(s). But they're out there, just like the dust-bunnies, waiting to jump on the words. And in that split-second, words transform into wrods, something lethal and vindictive. Sticks and stones may break our bones, but bones can heal. Words can hurt forever.