The words! I collected them in all shapes
and sizes, and hung them like bangles in my mind.—Hortense Calisher, EXTREME MAGIC
Celadon. Pusillanimous. Imbroglio. Ultramarine. Blackberry. Rubies. Vestige. Languishes. Crucible. Inchoate. Capitulate. Cloak.
I love words. Most writers love words. The feel of them on the tongue. The way they sound. Round sounds, sharp sounds, clicking sounds. There are few things more thrilling than reading a book in which the words percolate on the page. When a writer has given new life to words you've heard a million times or uses words you don't use or ordinarily think of, but love, it's inspiring.
I love reading novels that send me to the dictionary to look up words. Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections did this.
So did Don DeLillo's Underworld. I pulled out the Webster's to look up crepuscular: "Of, relating to, or resembling twilight: DIM... active during twilight <~insects>." I can never look at fireflies, now, without thinking of them as crepuscular.
Ann Patchett's Bel Canto yielded the word sangfroid: "self-possession or imperturbability esp. under strain." So, I have sangfroid when I don't stress out if I'm late getting somewhere.
Every so often I go on word jags. For instance, a few months back I felt verb-challenged, and I heard that reading the sports section was a great way to liven up your use of verbs, so every day for a week I spent time with the sports page. Perhaps more than any other type of writer, sportswriters are aware of the need for powerful, specific verbs. You'll never read on the sports page: "He was throwing the ball." Rather, "He hurled the ball through the air." I made a list—hobbled, lingered, ladled—as a reminder to use action verbs, the more specific the better.
I love hearing how words affect other writers. Fiction writer Ron Carlson, who publishes his short stories in Harper's, the New Yorker, McCall's, and Esquire, says he collects words and allows them to get into and color his work. "Most recently I used behoove, dint, and deem (each many times) in a comic commencement address," he says. "In writing fiction I will say honestly that I pay attention to every single word. A writer would. In my current notebook, I see this list: nostrum, astringent, torpor, cosseted, riant."
Judith Schwartz, author of The Mother Puzzle, who is writing a literary historical novel, says, "I'm collecting words and phrases from the period to create a kind of 'verbal palette' to work from. In writing about turn-of-the-century Vienna, I realized that I needed a vocabulary to create the right tone, so I steeped myself in literature of the time to absorb the appropriate language. When I came across words that sounded right, I jotted them down for inspiration. Actually, the process of tuning into the language was a useful exercise in itself. And knowing it's there gives me a sense of security about it. I suppose if I get stuck I can look at it."
It's easy to notice when writers are into words. Their writing shows it. Friend and journalist CJ Bahnsen says when he reads, he makes notes of the words he likes in a little notebook or in the margin of the book or article. Later he transfers the words to a master vocabulary list on his computer. Some he ends up using in his own work; others he likes but would never use.
"Yesterday I came across filch, and another from a film review: perf. And po-mo ... I don't know what it means. I like writing down slang as much as the real word. I get them from overheard dialogue. A guy called the street that Alta Coffee is on [in Newport Beach, California] 'revenue alley' because of all the high-end businesses there."
Collecting words, and reading for words, also helps to increase your vocabulary. When students worry about not knowing enough words, I say one word: "Read."
Keep a notebook—or a section in your notebook—for words you come across that you love the sound of; words you'd like to use; words that simply impress you, even if you have no inclination to ever use them; and words you come across that you don't know. For a week, write down five words a day that you either read or hear spoken.
Read the works of authors who have splendid vocabularies—Cynthia Ozick, Jonathan Franzen, Michael Chabon, Don DeLillo, Kate Braverman—and write down words you either look up or simply love.
Experiment with using these words as freewriting prompts. Choose one or more of them to write about for fifteen minutes, or incorporate them into your writing and notice how they alter the tone or voice of your work.
As you write more and continue to be attuned to words, you'll find the words you use enriching your writing and giving you far more flexibility.
As Mark Twain once said, "The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter—'tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning."