Just 350 words. That’s it. After working in journalism for six years, you’d think I could write 350 words about carpet texture, and certainly 350 words on a topic of my choice.
But almost weekly, I am assigned to write a column. And almost weekly, I face the same challenge: writer’s block, that accursed affliction stumping writers of all ages, writing styles and creeds.
And it always seems to resurface at the most inopportune times – when embarking on a 10-page research paper, a 2-page book report, a cover letter and, yes, even a measly 350-word column.
It should be simple – a 10-minute conversation probably surpasses 350 words easily. And we talk all the time. One visit to the library commons proves many of us spend vast amounts of time talking, even while attempting to be productive.
Probably, we talk too much. As one of my teachers used to say, “God gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason.” Yet, most of us probably speak much more frequently than we listen.
We’ll say just about anything. We’ll discuss shoes, the latest gossip, the newest Jon & Kate scandal. I’ve even had whole conversations about chewing gum brand preferences.
I don’t know that this is necessarily bad. We’re communal beings. We like being in relationship with others. We like to communicate our feelings and opinions, even if in regard to the most menial and meaningless of topics. It’s healthy.
So why do such communicative beings so frequently struggle with the written word? Why do so many students complain about English classes and essay assignments? Why can’t I sit down, type a 350-word stream of consciousness and call it a day?
The difference may simply be thought.
We open our mouths and let fly countless opinions and unwarranted advice. Often, it does no harm. Often, it contributes to building a relationship with whoever we happen to be conversing. But sometimes, it’s devastating.
The phrase, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me,” indicates our desperate denial of the power of words. In reality, a lightly offered word can alter our lives drastically.
We all try to shrug off the hurtfulness of negative input. None of us succeed 100 percent of the time.
Maybe that’s why we struggle with written communication. When we write, the words stare back at us from the page or computer screen, daring us to mean what we say. Our thoughts become immortalized in publishing. The implications of expressing our opinions and making statements becomes more real than in oral communication, in which words seem to float away from our own beings, whether or not they stick, perhaps damagingly, to their intended recipient.
Written communication forces us to reckon with our assertions.
Imagine the transformation that would occur if we all considered the words we speak as carefully as the words we write. We would experience fewer miscommunications. We would learn to be more effective, accurate communicators. Our words would carry more weight, be more deliberately chosen. Our communication, and relationships as a result, would be more real.
Oral communication, by nature can never be as deliberate as its written counterpart. But simply working to be more genuine and sensitive in conversation, choosing our words more carefully – even remaining silent and simply listening could speak volumes.
