The Hidden Power of Words

 For the past sixteen years, I've written something, anything, almost every day. I tend to fire and forget, running off to the next shiny thought.  Over time, I formed word habits which still both inspire and constrict my writing style.  When the blogosphere first arrived, wild and woolly, one could write what one thought without fear of great censure. 

Now, the atmosphere of the internet being what it is, writing an opinion involves being willing to endure the rage of those who disagree, and since there are always those who will disagree, the rage mob is ever present.  The terms thrown out when one expresses an opinion are often damaging and cruel.   It makes writing much harder, with a much higher cost to speaking truth. 

We don't realize the power of words until we stop being able to use them, because they hold so much power. 

This past week, I began reading a book for review.  I can't review it.  The writing uses passive voice. The author uses I and refers to events and books and thoughts without showing the events, books and thoughts.  I kept looking for the meat.  As of yet, while I see a story line, plot and even an outline of suggestions, I do not see the flesh of the work, only the faintest of sketches.

Here's the rub.
If I review it well, I will be lying.   So the book sits and I fumble through it, hoping it gets better, wondering if I need to reread it to be sure I'm seeing what I'm seeing.  If I'm honest, I know, I'm seeing what I see. 

However I know what it takes, how hard it is to craft a book, and so I know even if I don't see the blood in the lines, there is a person out there who worked to create this work for others and willed only the good of others with it.  To say it needs to be revised and rewritten would be a severe kindness, the kind best delivered face to face and not over the internet or in review columns. 

So I sit here groping for the kindest of words because I know the impact.