12 Feb 2024

Words on a Page

I see what you wrote - you wrote words on a page.

I see them lie there, and they are weak and sad and I despise them for it. I want to give them a kick, to scream at them “GET UP!” - how could you leave us with this travesty? Am I to make them grow somehow? Should I help them stand when you could not make them stand on their own?

Your words should be a storm and a hammer and they should raise the hairs on my neck. They should etch blazing lines into the sky, pointing from dusty past to brilliant future. A road of fire, from your heart to mine, to be walked by the bold and the brave. Instead: Words on a page - no fire, no spark, not even a burp because, heaven forbid, somebody might hear and look at your work. What is the point if you will not make me cower before your roar? Why write at all, if you cannot - okay, okay, between you and me, you know - listen…come here…trust me, when I say: Why write if you cannot lure me closer to the page with a whisper? Bend me to your will with a turn of phrase, and make me follow every line as if gripped by a fever.

Here is what I learned about writing long ago: We don’t. There is no writing. All writing is speech, and has to be, or else: words on page. Writing does not speak to people - people speak to people. Sometimes speech is cast in substrate to give it reach and endurance, written for the world to read. Like steel quenched, it gives up all compromise - but like steel, it needs to be tempered, to give it spring. It is humanity - a person’s sense - that gives written speech that murderous flex, that keen ringing you hear in the air.

But you speak to nobody. Your words are not speech, they are just…left. Speech, speech is force and creation and near to magic and the old arts. Wielding speech is not for the timid, and your fearful mumbling is a stain on those pages, and an outrage to me.

I want to stride through your wretched pages, a hundred meters tall, and leave smouldering paragraphs in my wake. I will see your timid phrases shattered and burning in my boot prints. And, grabbing fragments and shards left and right, I will in that wasteland build anew. Build bigger and stronger and bolder - and build a shining beacon to show others: Look here, the magic is alive still!

I found myself editing a tender bid today and was dismayed by the defensive, tepid language tacked together without any appreciation for language. Sure, it is writing for business, we are mindful of technical nuance and compliance and regulations - but come on, let’s have some fun with those slides!

Until next time,
Arne