My first real insight into the emotional power of words came after studying William Faulkner’s “A Rose for Miss Emily” in college. I covered plot, setting, characters, theme, occasionally delinquent in scouting out definitions of new words. However, after I finished this particular short story about a southern aristocratic woman who had not been seen in the town for the last forty years, I felt an image was missing.
Miss Emily dies, and the townspeople come into her house, having wondered for years how this decaying old mansion and its owner have coped. Faulkner describes the townswomen coming into her front hall and standing over the bier: “the ladies sibilant and macabre.” I now searched for “sibilant,” learning that it meant hissing tones. The morbid curiosity of the townswomen concerning the grotesque circumstances of Miss Emily’s life caused them to “hiss” over her coffin like a snake descending on its prey. I had an epiphany. The scene opened up; the bubbling meanness of those women enveloped me. I had a sudden visceral understanding of how smugly righteous their demeanor was in that stuffy drawing room. After that story, literature became a completely new world for me. I was hooked on the power of words.
Sometime later I heard my own writing voice. Not often but occasionally the rhythm and tone created pitch point phrases, images, words. The notion that words will sound the right note when I am on the right track keeps me writing.
Houston Writers' Group 