I often vacillate on the worth of words. I lean toward the side that says that they hold little value. Words aren’t worthless but they aren’t everything. You can say anything and that doesn’t make the words powerful or true. I think the old adage goes, “Stick and Stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” I tend to agree with that. As a writer, I find it hard to reconcile the seeming lack of value in words with what I love to do.
Language is important in communicating ideas but ideas are just thoughts. Thoughts don’t change anything without action. If I get a story idea but never write it down, the idea is a worthless thought. An ignored blessing that will never ever matter to anyone anywhere at any time. It could haunt you, but never bring you any peace of mind. Why? Lack of action. That’s why.
To further my point, words couldn’t be more worthless when people discuss politics. Your amazing idea about using roadkill to feed the starving using welfare recipients as a workforce is as flaccid as an ex-president. Your astounding policy making sure that any needy bigfoot can get free shoes at any park ranger station is a pointless exercise in pointlessness. If you aren’t active in politics, there is no reason to discuss it. You are wasting emotions and energy with no effect on the problems of the world. Nothing is worse than two people thinking they can fix the world with opposite views sitting across from one another at Thanksgiving.
I try to shut up, can’t always. It’s my intrinsic drive to share thoughts, ideas, and words. You can understand the internal strife, but I know stories can help people in many ways. It might inspire them to keep going, make them smile on the worst day, or escape their world of hate for a brief while. So just in case words matter, I write. I hope my stories someday help someone in some capacity. Just in case, I’ll keep letting my words out and maybe they will have a little value for someone.