Along with images and music, words have always been the hub around which my life revolves. This is hardly surprising. After all, we rely on words to describe, define, and understand our worlds. We rely on words to express emotion. We even attempt to express inexpressible emotion by means of poetic & lyrical words. More even than our opposable thumb, it is humanity’s use of words within complex languages that primarily differentiates us from every other living creature on earth.
My father was a writer, poet, teacher, and preacher. Words were his bread and butter, his primary art-form, and as an ardent reader, his favourite source of entertainment and learning. He taught me that language should always be used properly. The prime intent and function of language is to clearly convey meaning and understanding – whether intellectual or emotional. He taught me that “proper language” encompasses both correct and incorrect grammar, slang, poetry, oratory, and sometimes even swearing (he seldom indulged), depending on purpose and context.
My mother passionately believed in the vital importance of stories. Ironically, she battled to read, and thus seldom, if ever read for her own enjoyment. She was never tested or diagnosed, but I’m convinced that she had a reading-related learning disorder, such as dyslexia. In spite of this challenge, many of my earliest memories are of sitting with my mother – often on her lap – while she read to me. She read to me every day … often many times a day. The language of my life was formed by fairy and folk tales, along with classical, English, children’s literature. By the time my brother was born, shortly before I turned five, I was well-versed in the worlds of AA Milne, Enid Blyton, Lewis Carroll, Roald Dahl, Beatrix Potter, Dr. Seuss, James Barrie, and many more. Not only that, but I could read them for myself.
Due to her reading weakness, my mother pointed to each word as she slowly, and clearly read it aloud. The connection between the patterns on the page, and the spoken words was obvious; they were always the same. I initially learned to read by recognising whole words, rather than sounding out the constituent letters, which is far more usual. By the time I was four years old, I could read any book for myself. At eight years of age, I read my first “adult book”, Isaac Asimov’s novelisation of the sci-fi movie, Fantastic Voyage. It goes without saying that reading is still one of my primary pleasures.
My mother’s flat, halting delivery of those childhood stories, along with the authors’ often poetic styles, allowed my imagination free rein. To me, words and language have never been just marks on a page, or sounds in the air. Rather, they are the colours, shapes, scenes, and emotions that populate life. Through words, I’ve lived countless lives beyond my own. By living those lives, and thinking the thoughts of others, I learned empathy. Transported by words, I’ve travelled all over this world, and far beyond, to many others. Through words, I’ve experienced far more than is, was, or will ever be possible in my purely physical reality.
Around the time I learned to read, I also discovered writing. The ability to write words on a piece of paper, that would be understood by anyone who read them, was magic and wonder of the highest order. I’ve never lost that sense of magic, mystery, and awe inherent in words and language.
More than five decades later, my love-affair with language is as passionate as ever. I’ve written short stories, essays, articles, song lyrics, and speeches. I’ve penned poetry in many styles (some of it even bearable), ghost-written university theses, and authored training course materials on multiple subjects. I’ve blogged widely, if erratically, both for myself and for corporate clients. I’ve even had some of my work published – in both online and off-line publications. I’m currently working on a few books … both fiction and non-fiction.
I write almost every day. Some of what I write is “therapeutic writing” … absolutely free expression of my inner thoughts, without limitations or edits. No-one else will read any of that while I’m alive … at least not in its original form. In fact, I seldom re-read it myself. I’ve found that writing, motorcycling, and fishing are extremely effective forms of therapy. Of course, I also write to explore and develop my thinking in many different areas.
My lifelong fascination with the English language has resulted in a passion for both grammar and meaning. Yes, there are times when even grammar must step aside, for meaning to take centre stage. This understanding of the rules, along with when and how to break them, and an ability to hear and maintain an author’s voice, helps me to be a good ghost-writer, editor, proof-reader, and writing coach. Over the years, I’ve edited books (fiction & non), theses, essays, articles, marketing materials, text-books, and more.
I have successfully coached people who wanted to learn to write more effectively.
I am, of course, available for any writing, coaching, and/or editing work. Please contact me to discuss rates and details.
