When I hear someone speak of the “multi-tasking modern woman”, I think that it isn’t so much multi-tasking, as being multi-faceted.  For example, there are a lot of things I like to do, and a number of things I must do, and when subsets of the two groups converge, this becomes multi-tasking. The task becomes more manageable, for me, when I think in metaphors.

Cooking is something that I both like to do, and have to do.  Writing is something that I love to do, but really only have to a little bit.  Any time I HAVE to do a piece of writing, I am aware of the constraints.  Anytime I am writing something of my own accord, I am more aware of the possibilities. Rather like the difference between following a precise and exacting recipe versus putting together an inventive dish of one’s own design. To complete the metaphor, then, the whole piece is the meal, the carefully chosen words are the seasoning.

Here’s what I mean.  Recently, I had the option of using the word “grovel”.  In the context, it would have been appropriate (if slightly hyperbolic) but it had connotations for me that I didn’t want to attach to the sentiment of the piece. I probably would have settled on the word “beseech”, but it seemed altogether too Shakespearean, “implore” was a contender, but it was too demanding– as if to say “I insist you consider this”. “Brown-nose” and “bootlick”, although officially synonyms of “grovel” (according to Thesaurus.com), were altogether too subservient. So, even though it does remind me of the male-sex-gland (and I have to check the spelling every time I use it), I settled on “prostrate”.

What is the subtle difference, to me, between these two word-cousins? I suppose it’s all in the centre of power.  If I grovel, it means I want something the other person maintains control of.  If I prostrate myself, it means I surrender my control.  Rather the difference between being a Saint and a Martyr.

There are values attached to words, vocabulary is a currency, to be articulate is to be rich. Words, well-chosen, say much more than their dictionary definition.  Take “nuance”, for example…it’s subtler than “hint” (which seems to me should always accompany a wink); doesn’t suggest malfeasance, like “undertone” does, nor directive, like “overtone” does. “Innuendo” takes nuance into the realm of seduction, while “allusion” makes me think of “collusion”, and suggests both parties are equals in the deception. Oh… so am I saying “nuance” suggests deceit?  Hmmm.. I hadn’t thought so until I got to innuendo and allusion. “Connotation” is a business nuance, “intimation” is a bedroom one.

Well, at least to me.  It’s all rather like cilantro.  An excellent note of citrusy-bite that elevates a dish… unless you dislike cilantro, or it’s alter-ego coriander… in which case the dish is no longer elevated, it is soap-like and unpalatable.  And doesn’t “unpalatable” say so much more than “tastes bad”? And aren’t some words just delicious to say, to roll over your tongue and share out loud? Like “quagmire” or “shenanigan”.  Try “mellifluous”– if you can pronounce it easily, it is. “Pernicious” is fun, and is so much richer than “dangerous” or “harmful”. And its synonyms lend themselves to some charming alliteration: “maleficent”, “malevolent”, “malignant”, “malicious”, and “nefarious” and “noxious”.

Funny how words I think of as negatives are so subtly ominous. Like cooking with chili– it brings flavour and heat, but used with a subtle hand it lingers and lurks and assails not only your tastebuds but your entire body reacts to its virulence, eventually, even if not at first outwardly spicy.

Write as if perfecting a recipe. Balance in sweet, savory, salty, sour…and a little bitter.

heh.