by Miko Johnston
Words fascinate me. I think about them constantly, their surface meaning and their subdural meaning. The subtle differences in synonyms when attempting to find the best word in a situation. The unusual pairing of words to create fresh and unique imagery. Formulating a sentence that will dazzle the reader, but not distract them.
We who write in English have an amazing array of words to use. According to a linguist I know, our language stems from our Anglo-Saxon heritage, with words deriving from both cultures. It provides us with an abundance of synonyms.
I became interested in words early on, which is why I wanted to be a poet and have read much poetry. One of my all-time favorites is Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Bells”, a master course in the use of repetition and word sounds to create different moods. It’s where I learned about onomatopoeia – words that sound like their sound. Poe’s bells tinkled in merriment, rhymed and chimed in happiness, clanged in alarm, and tolled in sorrow.
Before I could read I would hear words and “picture” them by their sound. I would think I knew what they meant, but not always – some didn’t translate into their actual meaning.
Growing up in New York, I ate a lot of delicatessen meats like pastrami, corned beef and tongue. As a child, I assumed the last item to be a homonym of the organ found inside mouths. It took until my late teens to make the connection – the delicacy I’d enjoyed for years was actually…a tongue. Had I not already loved it I would have been grossed out!
I’ve since learned tongue is an autological word – it describes what it is, or expresses a property it also possesses. Examples of autology include unhyphenated, word, and pentasyllabic (a five-syllable word that means a five-syllable word).
Onomatopoeia words sound like they sound. Autological words mean what they mean. However I’m more curious by other categories of words, which have no name that I’m aware of, the first being words that sound like what they mean.
Take alluring. When it’s said out loud it rolls gently off the tongue. You can almost hear the trilling of the R, the sensuousness of the word. I find tranquil to have a soothing sound. To me, idiot sounds ‘fast’ while moron sounds ‘slow’, which is why I ascribe each term to different, um, problematic drivers. I also think stress, beginning with its three hard consonants and ending in the shrillness of double S, sounds, well, stressful. And come to think of it, shrill sounds…shrill. I wonder – do these words sound like their meaning because we know their meaning, or would they sound that way to someone unfamiliar with the word? What would you call words that sound like what they mean?
Then there are words that sound nothing like their meaning. Who came up with pulchritude to describe pleasing beauty? Is gorgeous, with its hard opening G and harsh final syllable, much better? Does relax inspire calmness? One of my favorite and most pleasant sense memories is the smell of summer rain hitting a hot, dry pavement. There’s a word for it – petrichor. Does that sound pleasing? Not to me. Shouldn’t words like these have a name as well?
You can probably come up with other examples of words that sound, or don’t sound, like what they mean, and please do. You might know of a word that describes these types of words, or suggest one of your own. All I know for certain is that my fascination with words and language led me to become a writer.

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies including the recently released “Whidbey Landmarks”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

The joy of receiving cards offsets much of that nostalgia. I often get to see pictures of the family and hear about their adventures over the past year. Some of the news may not be happy, but the contact always is. I set up all my cards along the living room and dining room windows, each one like a handshake, or hug, from someone dear. When I remove them in early January I take a moment to reflect on the cards that are missing, a reminder of those I’ve lost, either in body, or in mind, or who’ve just drifted away.
For me the best part of holiday gifts isn’t receiving them, but writing thank you cards. Like the holiday cards, it starts with finding the right card for the person to be thanked. I have an assortment of stationery with different designs, ranging from charming illustrations to an embossed THANK YOU. I favor classic white or cream notes with matching or coordinating envelopes. Then there’s the challenge of coming up with something fresh, sincere and meaningful to write, just the type of challenge I relish.
Petal in the Wind Book IV: Lala Smetana

You must be logged in to post a comment.