Call me a nerd. A word nerd, even.
Words have always held a fascination for me. They call to me from a printed page. They lodge in my brain and sing to me when my thoughts should be focused on something else. Most of them are orderly and well behaved.
I can manipulate them as I wish, making them do my bidding. I can craft them to inform, to amuse, to exhort, to narrate a story, to evoke a feeling. In fact, I puff myself up, thinking I know all the rules about words and that I am an advanced word handler (sort of like a lion tamer with a whip and a chair). However, words occasionally refuse to play by the rules. They jump up and down to get my attention, but then run away, just out of my reach. These words taunt me with my total lack of mastery over them. They take on a life of their own in my mind, running in circles, doing back-flips, and playing freeze tag with each other.
I profess that I want to conquer them, to bend them to my will. But is that true? Would I really ever want to be able to totally control words? Don't I secretly enjoy being mesmerized, befuddled, and intrigued by them? Don't I revel in the power of words to make me laugh, cry, gasp with amazement? I am guessing that words will continue to hold sway over me as long as I live, and I secretly wouldn't want to have it any other way.