Writers develop many love affairs. Love of words. Love of phrases. Love of books. Love of writers. One of the writers I love is Mark Twain. He said:
The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.
Earth’s static electric spark ignites the night, while the humble lightning bug emits light less dramatically, though no less important. A writer knowing the difference of word choice has that kind of impact. Release the spark or find a mate.
I began learning the difference early. My love affairs started with Scholastic books during elementary school when reading took me to far away places. More love affairs developed from my home town of Dana, Indiana, the birthplace of Ernie Pyle. That love affair developed into college writing and a journalism degree from Liberty University, which in turn led to reporting and writing jobs where I’ve honed knowing the difference into published articles and web content.
Now that I live on the beach in Florida, the lightning capitol of the United States, lightning sometimes wakes me at night as offshore storms flash and rumble onshore. Nothing shields the flashes over water, and they illuminate my room, followed by the thunder. Mark Twain also said:
Thunder is good, thunder is impressive; but it is lightning that does the work.
I’ve taken this lesson of lightning and thunder and applied it to my writing life: Knowing the difference between right and almost right and letting that ‘lightning’ work. Let me put my lightning to work for you writing right.