Now that I've been a copywriter for five years (Five years? Cue exaggerated pull on imaginary tie), I've learned that said profession can make your mind bigger and your world smaller. Bigger mind = full of facts and figures and detailed knowledge of artisan cheese, intellectual property law and everything in between. Smaller world = life revolves around a stark white Word document, a blinking cursor and a twisted love of stringing sentences together, deleting, rearranging, poeticizing, simplifying, and researching the ambiguous, complex and obscure.
Perhaps the most important residents of this really small world are the words themselves. And while I can't claim to handle them perfectly -- I've found more than a few glaring typos in this here blog (I blame sunlight, eagerness and/or wine, depending on the circumstances) -- I've become really possessive of each and every resident, however pompous or trashy they may be. When words are used and spelled correctly, they're like the mailman that hums show tunes and pets your cat. But, when misused or misspelled, they're like the neighbor that listens to Hoobastank in his garage and pees on the side of your house. The lesson? I guess it's to be kind to your words or else they'll park their Camaro on your lawn. And you will be embarrased.
I stole this post from The Oatmeal from a friend on Facebook. Words to live by, or to not live by, as the case may be.
(Image from The Oatmeal)