Getting in a tizz over words
I read an interesting article in The Guardian a couple of weeks ago about the recent trend in making up funny names for concepts. The article cited a number of them, including cozzie livs (cost-of-living crisis), genny lec (general election), savvy b (Sauvignon Blanc), jacky p (jacket potato), and holibobs (holiday). Sadly, it missed out platty joobs (platinum jubilee).
Apparently, these are totally baffling to anyone outside the UK - both what they mean and why the hell you’d want to give things names in what it calls “a kind of cutesy, baby language”.
This got me thinking about language and how we use and misuse it.
For better or worse, I have one friend who lives here and whenever we talk or write to each other, we both end every question with “innit?”, even though neither of us is a Londoner. And with another friend (who was a Londoner), one of us would invariably throw an “aye” into our conversation and there we were slipping deeper and deeper into Yorkshire accents. Who knows why.
In the article, Coco Khan goes on to say: “Slang is subjective. One person’s cringe is another person’s clever”. And I feel this strongly.
I am fine with most of these. Some are a bit twee but they’re harmless.
But there is one slang term mentioned here that sets me grinding my teeth. Even the slightest whisper of it and I feel agitated. And it’s not even the word voted the most annoying in a British survey late last year. That was amazeballs, which, yes, is irritating, but does not invoke me in the rage that this other phrase does.
Both these articles go into the scientific reasons we don’t mind some phrases or words and yet others can have us clenching our fists. But really, I don’t care about that; I just want people to stop using this damned word1. Please.
Which set your eyes a-twitching?
Have I missed one that makes you feel incandescent with rage? Let me know!
What I’ve been up to recently
Other than getting myself all het up about silly slang, I’ve been at home with the 12-year-old for company for the past three weeks. And we’ve been tackling the enormous challenge that is tidying his bedroom.
He’s a crafter and a collector, and a squirreller-away (if it’s not a thing, it is now). And this means that his bedroom looks like a small tornado has just passed through it.
On the plus side, it means that I get personalised friendship bracelets and funny collages, and endless artwork for my office wall. But it also means that stepping foot in there is taking your life into your own hands.
But we’ve come up with a strategy: we focus on one small area at a time, sorting through each item and asking if he really, truly, absolutely needs it. And most of the time, it ends up in the recycling, selling, or rubbish piles.
Bit by bit, item by item, we’re making progress.
And when I returned to my desk this afternoon, I was struck by how this is exactly the way that I should be approaching the revisions to The Third Letter: bit by bit, asking myself whether this sentence needs saving, recycling, or chopping.
Because I have been daunted by the task at hand now that I’ve reworked the first 10,000 words. Somehow, reworking the rest of the novel (which should be a lighter task than the major restructuring of the first 10k) has felt harder.
But now I know what I have to do. Take it bit by bit until I’ve cleared through it all. Just like a 12-year-old’s messy bedroom.
On the bedside table
The Essex Serpent - Sarah Perry: This one (an audiobook) is still on the metaphorical bedside table, but I’m getting through its lush prose chapter by chapter.
Act of Oblivion – Robert Harris: A hist fic bookclub read following the hunt for two of the regicides who signed Charles I’s death warrant. You always know you’re in safe hands with Robert Harris.
Brooklyn - Colm Tóibín: Reading this (years after everyone else) because I want to read the sequel, having been captivated by the Instagram posts showing author Colm Tóibín visiting Costco for the first time.
You can check out what is on my TBR or pick up copies of my recent reads at Bookshop UK (affiliate link) if any have piqued your interest.
Until the next time,
If you like this newsletter, you can buy me a virtual coffee - coffee always keeps me going ☕
Have you guessed which one it is?