Over a year ago I wrote about taking the plunge. The plunge was writing.
I mentioned Maurice Sendak. It was his birthday a few weeks ago. He is now no longer with us, but his Wild Thing words remain, having lifted from picture-book pages to enter the heart and mind so fully, they there have been times when they have sung me out of dreams and sleep.
There’s a music to Sendak’s writing that you can’t find in the grammar books. It is, I believe, akin to what Stephen Fry calls “sound-sex”.
Stephen Fry doesn’t mind a play on words. He has a great comeback to pedants who are more fussed with correctness than connection through written language:
“If you don’t like nouns becoming verbs, then for heaven sake, avoid Shakespeare. He made a doing-word out of a thing-word every chance he got.”
Sometimes, pedants get the better of us who are keen to create something new.
The challenge remains, to play with words in such a way that they connect while they impart meaning. To create sentences that linger. Are remembered. That make the reader think. Again.