It’s the last week of school, and I’ve got English on the brain. English is awesome. English is dumb. I love it. I hate it. I love language and want to spend the rest of my life finding new ways to tell exciting and interesting stories. I hate language and grr blargle argle sknash.
If you’re going to be a writer, you have to love the language at least a little bit. I love it a lot. I love its twists and turns, I love its nooks and crannies, I love its incongruities, I love its flat contradictions. More than that, I love to play with it.
I think authors have to practice their wordplay at every opportunity they can get, like the guys with the things doing the things to other things. Ahem. My brain’s a little fried and my wordplay is not in top form right now. But that won’t stop me from writing about it. Continue reading