So I’ve been thinking about words a lot lately. I think in and about words all the time. I’m a total left-brainer, all about logic and reasoning (hello lawyer and philosophy major!), I’m a writer (I know, I know – little creative right-brain bits sneak in from time to time), a compulsive reader, and an enthusiastic Scrabble/Word Feud player. Plus I’m a logophile generally – a fabulous word that I use because I cannot bring myself to say I’m a word-lover… (teehee) And you’ll understand why I “teehee’d” this by the end of this post, promise. So it’s not unusual for me to think about words.

But lately I’ve been thinking about how and when I personally use them, rather than just about their meanings. I’ve been re-reading some of my stories/works-in-progress as I prepare to go all-in on the fiction writing front. And I’m coming to the realization that I am a compulsive categorizer, over-explainer, word snob, and creature of habit. None of which are exactly great on the whole creative, writing a book, front.

Eek, she said.
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