It rains.
Happy last-Thursday-of-the-month, everyone. Welcome to the November 2023 edition of I love words. Read on for news of my new third-sector newsletter, Charity Chat, and a few recommendations. First…
‘Es regnet’
As a writer, I enjoy the subtle ways in which small language tweaks can have a big effect on the mood of the written word. Sometimes, they arise from translation, or understanding the ways in which different languages approach the same subject.
A gazillion years ago I studied GCSE German. I’ve forgotten most of it, but there’s a few phrases that have stuck with me. One of my favourites is ‘es regnet’.
The straightforward, easy-to-understand English translation of ‘es regnet’ is ‘it’s raining’. But that’s not an entirely accurate, literal translation as German doesn’t use progressive verbs (-ing words). Instead, ‘it rains’ would be closer to the mark.
‘It rains’ vs ‘It’s raining’
To my mind, they sound completely different and evoke very different sensations, especially when used in the present tense.
‘It’s raining’ suggests a temporary state, or something un-constant.
‘It rains’ suggests something definite, constant, or uncontrollable.
Consider the two very short bits of text:
It’s raining in Southampton. It’s always raining in Southampton. It’s raining when I go to work. It’s raining when I come home from work. It’s raining on the pages as I write this letter to you, and it will be raining when I read your reply.
Or…
It rains in Southampton. It always rains in Southampton. It rains when I go to work. It rains when I come home from work. It rains on the pages as I write this letter to you, and it will rain when I read your reply.
As I said above, it’s subtle, but it’s these oh-so-subtle differences that can have a big effect on your writing. Personally, I think the power is in the unusual phrasing. We’re used to saying ‘it’s raining’, so it feels familiar and comfortable. ‘It rains’ is unfamiliar, so it feels strange and uncomfortable. Inserted precisely, at the right point, it can create a sense of unease and tension that can have a power to it.
Here are another two examples, applied to a potential charity fundraising message…
There is flooding in Bangladesh and it is still raining.
Or…
Bangladesh is flooded. And still, it rains.
Things I liked (and think you might, too)
Chuck Palahniuk on writing through-lines into your work… LINK
George Saunders on emulation… LINK
Wynton Marsalis on how to practice… LINK
Þórdís Helgadóttir, Þóra Hjörleifsdóttir, Sunna Dís Másdóttir, Ragnheiður Harpa Leifsdóttir, Melkorka Ólafsdóttir, and Fríða Ísberg are The Impostor Poets of Iceland… LINK
Fry & Laurie’s comedy gold… LINK
Charity Chat
When writing this newsletter (formerly Words about words, now I love words), I’ve tried to balance the two professional worlds I inhabit: writing and charities. I’m not always happy with the results, as they don’t always fit.
I’m also aware that I have some readers who are here for the writing, and others who are here for the charity stuff.
With that in mind, I’m reorganising things. I love words will continue as a monthly newsletter, focussed on writing.
The charity side of things will now be published as Charity Chat. This is a new, separate publication (also hosted on Substack) that will also be sent out as a monthly newsletter.
All subscribers to I love words will get the first edition Charity Chat (as I don’t know which of you are charity people and which are writers), but you’ll then have the option of managing your own subscriptions.
The first edition will be sent out this Monday, the 4th of December, and will include my thoughts on what charities can learn from my chiropractor.
A thousand words
New Forest, early 2023, Kodak film
Thanks for reading I love words.