The hills are alive with the sound of… writing?
Much has been said about writers’ creepy Internet search histories, the music we blast while writing – heck, even whether we bother changing out of our jammies before jumping in front of the keyboard. The time has come to rip away the veil and expose yet another bizarre facet of the authorial experience: the truly weird noises we employ while writing.
|Okay, would you call this a leer? A smirk? A goofy smile?|
After all, it’s not always easy to come up with words for all those items and events percolating in our creative noggins. If you’re like me, you’ve been known – perhaps well known – to gesture wildly, pace noisily near your desk, or repeatedly smack your palm against your chest, all in efforts to find The. Perfect. Word.
So, for example, someone standing outside my office might hear some of the following:
[Growling] “Kind of a rumble…” [Growl] “Maybe a snarl…”
“What’s that when you say it low, like [mumble, mumble]? Is that a mutter? A murmur? A throaty whisper?”
[Slapping arm with other hand] “Is that, like, a crack? A clap? It sounds sharp and meaty. What word means that?”
“What is that when you walk slowly? Not an amble. A stroll? No, too casual. A shuffle? No, too sneaky…”
[Suspiciously lusty noise] “Not a moan, exactly.” [Lusty noise continues] “Groan?”
Someone standing outside my office would either think me a few doughnuts short of a baker’s dozen or else pop some popcorn, pull up a chair, and revel in the concert. Of course, if they took the last few steps into the room, they could also witness me tossing my hands in the air, twisting my face into complicated patterns, and emulating drunken staggers. Like at least some other authors, I suspect, writing is my very own, unique combination of charades, name that song, and SAT-level word association.
Writing may be one of the great verbal arts, but no one said it shouldn’t be performative, as well.