"Words are meaningless, and forgettable." That's a line from my favourite Depeche Mode song, Enjoy The Silence; ironic, as I'm such a fan of words and writing. While the Mode would have you believe words are "very unnecessary" and "they can only do harm", there's obviously a lot more to them than that.
It's true that words can harm - a vindictive comment can have more lasting resonance than a physical blow - used as weapons to hurt, but that's just one side of the coin. The right words at the right time can bring comfort, joy and hope; in doing so, they can even save lives. Actions speak louder than them, but once the action is done, the word remains; written down, printed, stored on a server, it lasts longer, it resonates throughout the ages.
Writing is obviously all about words. Choosing the right ones, stringing them together to form a sentence, a paragraph, a page, a chapter, a (gulp) novel. I was once asked why I do it. My answer? "I can't not write." It really is that simple; I get restless if I don't write, frustrated at myself for not spending the time at the screen or the sheet of paper. I love to learn a new word - my current favourite is 'crepuscular' - but it's knowing when and where to use it that really counts. There are times when it's easy, others when it's incredibly difficult. Ironically (again!), the latter can be when it's most rewarding.
W is also for weary. Which is what I am now. It's been a busy week at work, hence my writing this at almost nine in the evening rather than six in the morning. I couldn't not do it, though; only three more letters to go, and that's the challenge complete. I'm pleased (well, amazed) that I've made it this far. Well done to everyone else who's done so - not long now, my friends, not long now.