For example, in 11th grade, we read a short story called "The Egg" by Sherwood Anderson. At the end of the story, one of the characters breaks an egg and pretty much throws a tantrum over it.
No one in my English class seemed to understand the symbolism, but I got it. The broken egg symbolized the person's broken dreams, and the breaking of the egg was also ironic. I actually laughed out loud with appreciation at the metaphor. There was something pathetic and morbid in the humor, which may be why the other students did not find it funny. It really is a rather odd thing to laugh about, but that is just the way I am. ^.^
My other literary love, as I stated, is big words. I use them fairly regularly in conversation, such as tonight when I told my husband he was certainly "loquacious" for a change. He said, "Loquacious?" and I told him the word simply means "talkative".
I just love the way it sounds. Loquacious... The same goes for "ostentatious". It is a fabulous word that conveys so much meaning in four little syllables.
Many of my friends joke with me "Don't correct my spelling!" on Facebook, but I am not the kind of person who does that. I think it is rude and it is not my place to give them a hard time.
Granted, I do laugh when people point out bad spelling if someone is attempting to make an intelligent argument. I also get a little tense when I see words such as "Pagan" or "altar" misspelled as "Pegan" and "alter". The same goes for bad spelling by my fellow homeschooling parents, M/s (or D/s) lifestyle folks, and others who speak on behalf of a group of people.
I feel if you are going to publicly represent something, it is important to do it well. However, I do not criticize others about it. That seems pretty overbearing and uptight, and I am neither of those.
That said, I suppose it is my use of words like "loquacious" or "ostentatious", that earned the nickname a few people use for me: Walking Thesaurus.
I'm sure I'm not the only person out there, writer or not, who has been labelled as such.
Copyright (c) 2012 Wendy L. Callahan