I am in love with words.
I love the way they sound like music when used in poetry. I love their power in a motivational speech. I love how they can entertain.
It wasn’t always this way. Not at all. I hated English classes once upon a time. I felt like they were a waste of time, and that the technicalities of learning how to write “a proper sentence” or how to deconstruct the themes and symbols in Wuthering Heights really was not the most stimulating subject matter. But, oh, how times change.
When I was fifteen, I got an English teacher that made me fall in love with the written word. I don’t know what exactly she did, but somehow I just started appreciating everything about English an the components that make up a truly amazing piece of writing.
In second year university, I wrote a piece of creative non-fiction from the perspective of Katherine Parr, sixth wife of Henry the Eighth. In this, I tried to remain as true as I could to the language she would have used during the time period in which she lived. This was when I fell in love with etymology.
Basically, I love everything about words and the power that they have over a situation, a person. I love how they create rhythm and that their meaning changes with intonation.
I mean what’s not to like?