Tempus Is A-Fugitin

by Janis Patterson

My late father was not only a professional wordsmith (journalism, teacher, editor, advertising agent, writer) but he was a man who absolutely loved words. He would play with words with the joy of a child playing with toys. As I grew up he passed his love of words and language to me, so much so that with his nimble mind we came very close to creating our own language – much to my mother’s disgust.

And that is how the rather somber and stoic Latin warning “Tempus Fugit” (time passes) was ‘Daddy-ized’ into the warmer and much more lighthearted “tempus is a-fugitin’”.

So what does this cuddly little anecdote have to do with writing? Not much – yet still everything.

As writers words are our tools. Without words we are mute and pretty much useless. I am waiting with grim anticipation for someone to write a novel using nothing but emojis. Hopefully, though, that is not an immediate worry. At least, I hope so.

While there are other ways of communicating, some faster, some purely physical or emotional, some kind of untranslatable, words are and always have been the most dependable… when used properly. Part of the beauty of words is their fluidity on the seas of nuance. Often how a simple word is used either alone or in conjunction with other words can change the meaning in subtle or sometimes not so subtle ways. Also, the time period in which the word is used and even the social class of the speaker can affect the meaning.

Words are the main tool for defining our characters. Unless there is a darn good reason in the story for it, a duchess should not speak the same – word choice, inflections, nuance – as a dockworker. (Properly used, though, such language disparities can be a heck of a good clue, if that’s what your story needs.)

Also, word choice is one of your main weapons in the ongoing fight between show and tell. Now I am the first to say that properly used ‘tell’ is a viable tool in your writer’s workbox – I mean, who wants a step-by-step recitation of your hero’s morning routine before he leaves for work when it adds nothing to the story and the action can be covered in a simple sentence or two. Almost any writing shibboleth can be an asset if used properly.

And that is the word! Properly. Like good dishes, the sharp and the forbidden and unusual can be interesting if used properly. Imagine salsa made with nothing but jalapenos and a splash of water. The idea is horrifying, just as horrifying as would be salsa made with no hot peppers at all. The ideal is balance – each ingredient playing its part to create a harmonious whole.

But… always remember it begins with the words. So you must make friends with words. Play with words. Enjoy words. Don’t be afraid of making up a new word… if you do it understandably and (dare I say it?) properly.

So – your assignment is, go learn six new words this week. The best way is to take a print dictionary, then open to a page at random and with your eyes closed stab somewhere on the page. There’s your word. What does it mean? How does it feel in your mouth? What does it remind you of? Does it evoke any thoughts or memories or fantasies. Play with it as a fascinated child would with a new toy. Enjoy it. Make it yours.

It won’t happen immediately, but as you play as well as work with words your writing will change, become richer, deeper, more … more everything. You own the words. Use them in all their multi-faceted glory.

Now – go grab a word and begin! Never forget that tempus is a-fugitin!