Liker of Language

A good many avid readers and writers proudly, and often, identify themselves as “lovers of language.” Lovers of the written word. Of prose. It’s an understandable sentiment, though I am not in that camp. I am, if you will, a “liker of language.”

I appreciate it. I value it. But it’s not where my heart is. It’s not my first priority as a writer or reader. I’m a lover of narrative. Of stories. Of characters, conflict, themes, and perfectly delivered resolutions. That’s ultimately why I write (admittedly to a subpar standard because I invest so little time and energy), why I read, and why I think about reading and writing.

If I could make an analogy of my needs of prose and story in written fiction: imagine I’m vetting a prospective elementary school for my child. In this example, the school campus (grounds, building, classrooms, etc) will serve as the prose. It’s undeniably a consideration, and needs to be up to certain standard before I would ever send my child there.

The faculty, administration, and student body, however, are the story. The actual people my child will engage with. They’re what I’m most concerned with. They’ll leave the stronger impression on me. If they aren’t up to snuff, I won’t care how perfectly designed and maintained the campus might be, the school won’t be good enough for my child (my interest in this analogy).

You might think the same could be said of the reverse, and that’s partly true, but the bigger takeaway is that I would be much more willing to sacrifice campus quality than people quality. Much more.

I’m not suggesting it has to be one or the other. One might value language and story equally. But for me those two sides of the scales aren’t in balance.