I am in love with words.

Let me tell you why

Before covid sank its fangs into me, I spent an afternoon in a riverside pub with friends. Mellow, late summer sun bathed the tables. Chills didn’t wrack my body and my throat wasn’t on fire. We were waiting for the folk musicians to arrive (blissfully unaware of the fate that would befall us a few days later!) and to pass time, we amused ourselves by looking up words in the dictionary. The more unusual the better. Bonus points if it sounded pleasant, too.

Effulgent, erubescent, and loquacious were among our favourites.

By the time we left, I felt giddy, and not simply from too much rosé. While the wine went to my head, the words rushed straight to my heart, frothing in my blood like champagne. Maybe that sounds dramatic. Or maybe you can relate? Maybe, like me, you’re a logophile.

In other words, a word-lover.

Logophiles find peculiar delight in unusual and specific words. They dedicate entire notebooks to cataloging obscure words and their meanings. Peek inside their paperback collection and you’ll find scores of underlined words to look up later. In fact, their bookshelves likely contain one or two esoteric dictionaries bursting with strange, lovely words. For logophiles, one language is rarely enough; they collect words in various languages from cultures across the world.

I can certainly relate to most of the above.

It got me thinking, why do I love words so much? Sometimes goosebumps prickle my nape when I read a beautiful word. And I’ve yet to find a satisfaction that rivals writing a sentence where each word mysteriously slots into place.

I think it’s partly because words possess sound and flow. They are small ripples that form part of a larger river of language. As Gregory Day writes in his thought-provoking essay One True Note:

Language, like the wind, is hard to pin down. It relies on movement for its existence, as we rely on breath for life. The sound of language also often reminds me of water. It forms, runs, braids, pools, knocks, rustles, rushes, flows… Like a river it is always moving, even when it appears to be still. Its currents are endlessly various but the river itself remains the sum total and singular shape of those currents. The river is cadence.

The cadence Day mentions plays a big part in my enjoyment of words. It is, as his essay suggests, an intrinsic, life-giving part of us.

But the essence of my word-love also lies in understanding. In addition to being a logophile, I am also - always - searching for meaning (which makes life rich and frustrating in equal measure). Matching a word to a mood can help make complex feelings easier to bear. Sometimes new words help me realise that I have these mysterious feelings in the first place, and often words have firmly rooted me in the land under my feet.

I’m Scottish and a Gaelic learner. My homeland is one of poets, writers, and storytellers, therefore I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I’ve become infatuated with words. I’ve spoken before about how Scots and Gaelic have shaped the writer I am today and feel incredibly lucky to have a rich store of words to revel in.

Anaïs Nin once said that “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage” but I feel that my life expands every time I learn a new word. It’s as though another piece of life’s puzzle has been solved without disturbing the grander mystery.

Words are like spells. A well-placed word at the right moment can unlock all manner of memories, feelings, and dreams. Words carry possibilities, stirring the reader (or listener) to action. They can be protective prayers canted to the moonlight, a salve for a weary soul, or they can embroider an ordinary day with beauty.

I wish I could convey all this majesty in the stories I write, but after many years of writing and word-gathering, I still find the human experience difficult to put into words. There are so many complicated layers to how we experience life and each of us experiences it differently. Yet, as a writer, I am always seeking those shared moments readers will connect to. Crafting them into meaningful sentences is another matter, but it all starts with finding the right words, one word at a time.

My current favourite word is one I mentioned at the start - erubescent. It means to redden or blush. It makes me think of ripening berries on the autumn hedgerows. I discovered it via a Cradle of Filth song (my not-so-guilty pleasure).

I’d love to hear your favourite word, I’m always looking for new ones to add to my stash!

Kate xx