Words

I love words. I love reading words. I love writing words. I love the way words can make your dreams come true. Words can also make you feel like a complete idiot whether you like it or not.

Words, and situations like these, can tie us all together. We can all relate to being overjoyed with hearing the exact words we needed to hear, or saying the one thing we never should have said.

I suppose that is all part of growing up, of being human.

Do you remember your first love? Do you remember the day they asked you out? The way they stammered and shuffled their feet. How they were smiling, and sweating, and how when you finally said you would go they were so happy!

Think about the first time you told someone “I love you.” Those three words have to be the three most powerful words in the world. Those three seemingly insignificant words have the potential to heal and harm in one fail swoop. I think we all know someone who has said I love you to manipulate someone.

If there was ever a reason for me to dislike words I think manipulation would be the reason. There are people in our world that have a gift for stringing words together in a way that can make anyone believe everything they say. While that can be a wonderful thing if you are a hostage negotiator, a doctor, a clergymen, or even a teacher, using the power of words to harm others is, in my opinion, immoral.

I suppose though, if you really think about it, writers manipulate us with their words. When I read a book, I lose myself in its characters, it's far away places, and the overwhelming emotions the author weaves into the pages. From the first few pages of even the shortest novella, the author convinces you to trust them while they grab hold of you form the inside out and drag you on a journey that only a master wordsmith could. It's subtle, but those words, those emotions, the pictures the author paints in your imagination are a form of manipulation.

I, personally, enjoy every minute of it.

The first book I remember actually losing myself in was Superfudge by Judy Bloom. I was grounded from watching TV because of a bad report card or something. I was sitting in the doorway between my kitchen and living room with my back to the television. I could see my dad look up at me once in a while just waiting for me to break the rules. I think I sat and read that entire book that night, right up until bedtime.

The first book that ever made me cry was Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls. I could feel that boy's pain and love for those dogs. He worked so hard for them only to have them taken away far too soon. I have read that book several times since the first, and each time it still grabs me in the exact same way, or nearly so I suppose. I am a little older now.

I think I am going to add a couple lists to this blog. One will be my favorite books/authors. The other may be a list of the books I have read recently.

I hope everyone can say they have a favorite book. If yolu don't and you want to look else ware for a good read, maybe my selections can help you.

Have a good week everyone.

... I tipped my cup and downed the last swallow. "Joscelin, is love supposed to make you feel like you're sick and dying, and mad enough to hit someone, and drunk with joy, and your heart's a boulder in your chest trying to burst into a thousand pieces, all at once?"

"Mm-hmm." He finished his ale. "That would be love."

--Kushiel's Justice by Jacqueline Carey; page 106