Some
writers could learn a lesson from Horton. That's Horton the elephant,
in whose mouth Ted Geisel (aka Dr. Seuss) put these words: “I
meant what I said, and I said what I meant. ”
Sometimes, to their detriment, writers don't quite say what they
mean.
As
Samuel Clemens wrote, “The difference between the
almost right word and the right word is really a large matter—it's
the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”
Take this inquiry I recently received,
which began: “Your agency continues to peek my interest.”
It's nice that she's willing to glance
at the agency. But “peek” means something far different from
“pique”—or “peak,” such as the one named for Mr. Pike.
Spell check doesn't know the
difference, so if you struggle with homophones, ask someone whose
eyes you trust to review your cover letters, query letters,
proposals, and first chapters—especially the opening pages.
You can't just trust an editor to catch
everything. Consider this sentence, at the bottom of the first page
of the introduction of a 2012 trade paperback from a well-known CBA
publisher:
Whether
you're an athlete, postal worker, missionary, or government employee,
haven't you felt the insatiable draw of notoriety?
Notoriety? An insatiable draw to be
“widely and unfavorably known”? In other words, notorious? I
think the writer meant “widely known”—without the unfavorable
aspect.
There's an old joke about a man
struggling with English who tried to impress his date. Instead of
telling her she was a vision, he said, “You're a sight.” She knew
the difference.
So do readers. We have the
challenge—and opportunity—of writing in a language with a vast
range of words with fine shades of meanings. Learn to write like
Horton and you won't be notorious.
