When Words Fail Me

Published September 2009 

It is never a pleasant sensation when writer’s block strikes. It’s quite the tightrope walk, trying to mould my self-indulgent scribbling into something even remotely reader friendly. Imagine the strain when the scribbling itself decides to pack up in a fit of pique and tells me to take a long walk off a short bridge. Nope, not an experience I’d wish on many.

So there I was. Sitting in front of my computer for days on end, hoping lightning would strike and something, no matter how small or seemingly trivial, would set the creative juices flowing once again.

I heed and hawed, bumbled along my daily reads online looking for inspiration. I took a little time off work when my beloved cousin came over for a short vacation, thinking that what I really needed was a little downtime and lots of fresh, animated conversation – read copious amounts of beer, little more than the imbiber’s battlecry of “Bottoms Up”, and very little sleep.

While those were all noble attempts (I never claimed I was not living in denial), nary a decent idea for this column sprang to mind. I felt the desperation setting in as I imagined yet another apologetic text message to my extremely patient and highly forgiving editor (thank you Daisy) explaining my lack of submissions.

That bastion of online knowledge, Wikipedia, defines the term Writer’s Block as ‘a condition, associated with writing as a profession, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work.’

It is widely known that most writers do suffer from spurts of WB, with many respected leaders in this industry admitting to having to step away from the computer for a spell. On the other hand, certain authors have suffered from this dreaded ‘condition’ for years, citing a complete and utter lack of motivation or inspiration as very tangible reasons.

Many famous writers themselves have suffered at one point or another at the hands of The Block.

Well loved prolifics such as Tolstoy, Fitzgerald, Plath and Hemingway, whose individual bodies of work changed the very face of literature, admitted to battling with this dreaded condition.

While it would be extremely arrogant of me to try to place myself anywhere near the feet of these literary paragons, I think it goes without saying that those who write for a living will sympathize and empathize with anyone who has been in the same proverbial boat.

I have come to realize that in these situations, honesty really is the best policy. Whenever friends would pose the usual “So what’s new with you?” query, I would respond with a heaving sigh and explain that the grey matter lodged firmly in my head – some would refer to that as a brain - wasn’t firing off the synapses as quickly as I would have liked. I whined piteously until my buddy Audrey, also one who has a strong background in the writing fraternity, asked me if I had heard of malaprops and suggested I write about that.

“A stand for malaria,” I wondered aloud. “No, silly,” she replied and explained that a malaprop is when one word is accidentally used in place of another with unintended, comedic results.

Audrey then proceeded to give me an example by way of a well known Malaysian songstress whose grasp of the English language, or lack thereof, was the stuff of legend. Said singer was interviewed by a respected publication and when asked what her favourite facial feature was she replied that she liked the tip of her mammary glands. Well no, she didn’t actually explain it like that. However it was eventually determined that this international star was actually, and innocently, referring to her dimples.

Millions are well aware of George W Bush’s globally known malaprops. His cringe-worthy speeches have gone down in the annals of political humour as ‘Bushisms’. A fine example of Bushism is his uttering of "It will take time to restore order and chaos." During a televised broadcast, no less.

And I think I’ve made my point in this department.

Mondegreens are another interesting variety of light-heartedness. This has happened to many of us, I’m sure. You’re humming along to your favourite song. You think you know the words. When you finally get a hold of the original lyrics it appears you’ve made some serious errors. A Mondegreen basically refers to words that are misheard, rather than misused. Some fine song examples are as follows:

• “Excuse me while I kiss this guy” – Excuse me while I kiss the sky

Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix

• “The girl with colitis goes by” – The girl with kaleidoscope eyes

Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles

• “There’s a bathroom on the right” – There’s a bad moon on the rise

Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival

• “I’ll be your xylophone waiting for you” – I’ll be beside the phone waiting for you

Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations

• “Hold me closer, Tony Danza” – Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Tiny Dancer by Elton John

And then there’s my own personal favourite with that well loved 80s anthem by Paul Young, Every Time You Go Away. I used to incorrectly belt out the chorus as “Every time you go away, you take a piece of meat with you”. In my defence, I was only 8 years old when this hit the charts.

It has been interesting for me to note that when words fail me, I simply retreat to whatever cracks a smile. I’ll admit to stifling a snort and several chuckles while writing this. But then again, anything is better than wallowing in self-pity while repeatedly banging my head against the nearest hard surface, methinks.

Resources: Wikipedia/kissthisguy.com