Bewilderness and Other New Words
By John Vorhaus | June 26, 2014 |
For the several years that I’ve been writing this column, I’ve tried to keep my whimsy in check and stay focused on the goal of helping you advance your craft and live your writer’s life. But every now and then, as you know, my whimsy bursts through like a hernia in the body of my work and all sorts of nonsense spews forth. This would be one of those times, for I’ve just been sorting through a trove of more than 700 words that I’ve invented, and damned if I don’t feel constrained to share some of them with you.
For you see, as much as I try always to smarticulate (that is, to speak both wisely and well) I have to admit that I get carried away with words. I do. I’m a fan of the snatchphrase – language exported to a new context – and of nonomatopoeia, which sounds like nothing at all. Adlibi. Panicdote. Overaverage. Yes, and bewilderness. When I see or conceive words like these, I have to have them. I kind of have to have them all.
And that’s how you build a collection of 700 new words. You start by being a moxiemoron, too brave for your own good. You subtract sticktoitivelessness, the God-given ability to quit, and you engage in quite a lot of microstasking (the work that gets done between visits to Facebook). You stay out of procrastinationary states, where moving forward slowly slowly turns into standing still. In short, you chose not to be omniabsent, which is to say nowhere, man.
Mostly you have a passion for it. I do. I have a ridiculous passion for new words – but honestly, how can we hope to survive in these modern times without heteroschedule, when Mommy and Daddy make time to make love, or farrightitis AKA Fox News Disease?
[pullquote]How can we hope to survive in these modern times without heteroschedule, when Mommy and Daddy make time to make love, or farrightitis AKA Fox News Disease?[/pullquote]
The world needs these words, and it’s my job to provide ‘em.
Then again, there’s that whimsy again, the only possible explanation for dalmation (the state of being like a spotted dog) and mallucinate (where you only think you’re shopping) and Zentiloquism (throwing your voice without making a sound). And smokequarium. And misconscrewed. And schmuckluks. And and and and and.
And the list goes on and on. Well, it would, wouldn’t it? After all, I’m the guy who published A Million Random Words; I obviously have way too much time on my hands.
Some of my neologisms are not fit for mixed company – but I’ll share them with you anyhow. After all, who knows when you’ll want to describe a generally bad situation as a fuckaroundarama, or the object of your carnal desire as pluckworthy? And certainly you’ll find a timely and opportune use for harasshole – the guy with petty power who hassles you just because he can. Circumscissors. Panticlimax. Cumulolingus. I give you all of these freely, to use as you see fit.
Don’t thank me, I define myself through service.
I have to tell you that I like playing to the smart crowd you are. It delights me to be sharing these obscurities with the WriterUnboxed community, for if ever there was a savvy crew that would recognize ad homonym as something that sounds like a personal attack, it’s you guys. You’ll also get what I’m driving at when I define exapples as something you don’t compare to rhetoranges, and embag as the act of keeping the cat contained. You’ll also get hobotheosis as elevation of the bum, and idiodactic as scholarly, well-reasoned and wrong. That’s how smarticulate you are. I am proud to know you, my friends.
And proud to share these nuggets of my fervid brain: Ferno, not that hot; fibber-optics, liar wire; miraculess, ordinary; and orbitrary, round because I say so.
Why do I do it? Why? Why? Well, why not? To me, it’s part of a writer’s responsibility to invent new words. That’s how the language advances and grows. Look at Shakespeare, all the words he made up. He gave us dwindle, hob-nob and zany, plus about 1,700 more. Wouldn’t you like that legacy? I sure would. And I’ll keep going for it, hard, if it takes every zinfidel, splatula and sunderpants I’ve got.
Again, why not? What harm can it do to exercise my brain in this way? What harm can it do yours? Writing is frustrating; it can be. But making up words is just pure, creative fun. So next time you find yourself in a state of penlessness (away with words) or suffering from a redundunce (too much of a dumb thing), spend a few minutes making up new words. You will be rewarded with the experience of a no-risk creative exercise. You might also be rewarded with words you can actually use. Many of my favorites – sadlarious and disastrophe come to mind – have become part of my working vocabulary; their use in my novels helps define my voice and draw readers to a strength of my game.
If you’re looking for tools, here’s two you can use: 1) fuse words together into new compounds; 2) try adding, subtracting or changing key letters. Many more strategies can be found in my 15-year-old book Creativity Rules! and it astounds me to think that my passionate interest in inventing new words goes back that far. No wonder I have so many.
But your collection starts now! Invent new words! As many as you can, as fast as you can, and post them here now! We are the Shakespeares of our day, and no one can take our incoheritance away!
John Vorhaus has written seven novels, including Lucy in the Sky, The California Roll, The Albuquerque Turkey and The Texas Twist, plus the Killer Poker series and (with Annie Duke) Decide to Play Great Poker. His books on writing include The Comic Toolbox, How to Write Good and Creativity Rules!
I shall have to dig through the WIP – I know I’ve invented a few words as I went along. I know, because there’s this small thrill of pleasure when I read them, the sense of, ‘Yes!’
I think we should each take one of your words, and populate it through our own work. I claim ‘idiodactic as scholarly, well-reasoned and wrong’ (and will add my own Oxford comma, just so you don’t say I’m not contributing anything).
I promise to try to find a place for it and give you credit.
Shakespeare had nothing on you – you’re still alive. Excellent work.
This reminds me of the legendary comedian, Norm Crosby, “Mister Malapropism.” He once said he visited a tailor because his pants needed an altercation. Have you ever thought about using some of these 700 words in a standup routine?
Snarcasm, snarcastic, speedyspeed, doomstare, catrips, viagrivated, noid, bitchtweet, wintersuck, snirt, herstory, herstorical, mantrick, analogic, sodomonomics, taxaholic, payway, YouBoob, suntrooper, fatscan, bartrolling, bonerette, upchuckwagon, lowrent, untelligence, sexercise, politibrain, republicrat, beergasm.
Now if anyone can define those, I’ll send you my Ronco Christmas album collection, which I bought after watching…wait for it…infocarols.
Ron, you’re good at this!
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
Snarcasm (n,): how cats would talk if they could; adj. Snarcastic
Speedyspeed (n,): futuristic vehicles that combine the functionality of a motorbike and the fun-factor of a shopping trolley; Speedyspeed (v,): to ride a shopping trolley on the highway;
Doomstare (n,): 1. the look villains give to heroes before their downfall; 2. the look bosses give to asinine employees before firing them
Bitchtweet (n,): a female dog that tweets; v. Bitchtweet
Noid (v,): (literary) to shout ‘no’ into the void (used metaphorically)
Wintersuck (n,): a mild seasonal disorder which causes grown-ups to suck their thumbs to sleep, often throughout the winter season
Mantrick (v,): (slang) to con or trick a person like a man, often used by pre-adolescent boys in playground games
Analogic (adj,): of or according to logic used during the pre-digital era
Taxholic (n,): (legal) a chocoholic who evades taxes
Payway (n,): (tech.) a new system of easy payment invented by Subway
YouBoob (n,): (trademark) an illegal video sharing site funded by Boobs & Co.
Bartrolling (n,): (legal) the criminal act of trolling a bartender, an offence punishable by working for free in the bar kitchen for an unlimited period of time
Untelligence (n,): the state of being unable to distinguish between the letters (u) and (i)
Uncanny. Or, should I say, you are uncantankerous. Did you study paleolinguistics in college? I’m afraid you missed it by one answer! Analogic is clearly the argument given by any politician when asked to defend his\her selfservititudinous voting record.
Aw, just by one answer, and here I was sure my dictionary was up to date.
I’m still in college, but study referenciology, a bit similar but with more emphasis on practical guesswork (practiwork) than mere empty hypothesis. I heard they might invite an expert wordmaker called John Vorhaus as a Guest Lecturer next semester. Looking forward to it.
Snarcasm (n,): how cats would talk if they could; adj. Snarcastic
Speedyspeed (n,): futuristic vehicles that combine the functionality of a motorbike and the fun-factor of a shopping trolley; Speedyspeed (v,): to ride a shopping trolley on the highway;
Doomstare (n,): 1. the look villains give to heroes before their downfall; 2. the look bosses give to asinine employees before firing them
Bitchtweet (n,): a female dog that tweets; v. Bitchtweet
Noid (v,): (literary) to shout ‘no’ into the void (used metaphorically)
Wintersuck (n,): a mild seasonal disorder which causes grown-ups to suck their thumbs to sleep, often throughout the winter season
Mantrick (v,): (slang) to con or trick a person like a man, often used by pre-adolescent boys in playground games
Analogic (adj,): of or according to logic used during the pre-digital era
Taxholic (n,): (legal) a chocoholic who evades taxes
Payway (n,): (tech.) a new system of easy payment invented by Subway
YouBoob (n,): (trademark) an illegal video sharing site funded by Boobs & Co.
Bartrolling (n,): (legal) the criminal act of trolling a bartender, an offence punishable by working for free in the kitchen bar for an unlimited period of time
Untelligence (n,): the state of being unable to distinguish between the letters (u) and (i)
What a great post. The idea of inventing new words is so for your manuscript is such a good one. I admit, I used to create new words more often when I was a kid, but I like the idea of doing it for a novel. And not just words that are part of your character’s universe (which happens a lot in sci fi and fantasy), but just creating new words for everyday people. Again, good post. Thanks for giving me inspiration for the day.
I love this. And I love your words! We have “family words” that friends shrug at (or worse)…”dup dup” and “pockey” being the only ones that might make any sense at all…and I invent words on a daily basis that I know cause bewilderness to those around me (sorry if I misused that). But I’ve never kept track in writing. This post has encouraged me to try, however, and to think of using them in a novel. I’m curious, are you like me, that your “new words” morph over time? Or once you find one you like do you stick with it as is? Also, my propensity for made-up words extends to nicknames for pets, family, and friends — is this true for you as well?
John–
Spewing hernias notwithstanding, there can be no doubt that you have … a gift. I don’t have it, and until now never missed it. But after reading your post, I now feel confined by the dictionary. I can’t add a neologism to your list, just a little-known word, probably to be found only in a psychoanalytic handbook. You know Freud–he gave a name to everything. OK, neurotic, psychotic, etc. But what about that rare someone who has no hang-ups, peculiarities, obsessions? Has such a person escaped being labeled? Not a chance: Freud called such a person a “normopath.” No one can accuse you of that one, John, so revel in your gift–and thanks for a great post.
“Woot, woot!” LOL
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
I love this. My brother has a special knack for inventing words that stick. They’re a mixture of Hindi, Marathi and English — gubzubs, changuli, winkatli.
Not only Shakespeare, but The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester came to mind as I read your article.
Baltimorons are famous for new words and malapropisms.
Like the local union’s disability policy for “Accidental Death and Dismembership.”
Because in Baltimore, we had them Ripman boys playing baseball for us. You know, Cal and Billy.
And here, a car jumps right up on the medium strip.
Then there are the people who go to court with their suit cases.
And when they come out of a scary movie all nerviated.
Thank you for this! I was a student of linguistics at university and have always considered language to be a living, changing thing. Usage trumps that old school grammar text. I can’t say I have your talent for creating new words, but I certainly applaud it.
Ruth
New York-isms:
Cheesecook – High fat cuisine
Foodduh – Foodie wannabe
Arbitriage – Covering up corporate financial mistakes or fraud
Rushhorror – (self-explanatory)
Rest Seller – Hyped book that doesn’t hit the Times list
Out of time, but thanks John. Great fun.
There are tines when new words work great. I once wrote about a car “priusing” up a hill, which explained perfectly what they were doing, but just recently I saw an Alaska Airlines ad with the headline, “It’s Never Too Late to Vacay.” I sent them a comment and asked them not to add to the dumbing down of the English language. Vacation comes from “Vacate,” which certainly doesn’t capture the feeling of Vacation, but “Vacay” just sounds dumb. It smacks of people using “like” every three words in a sentence or “I go” instead of “I said.”
One of my favorite made up words is espionatic, the sexy, new adjective for people engaged in espionage. I also enjoy the word snackrifice for sacrificing a snack, and for some reason I don’t take naps, I naptate.
James-
One little problem with new words is that they’re easily open to (someone else’s) interpretation.
For instance…
I’d assume espionatic to be a fanatic for espionage novels. And I’m guessing someone who made a snackrifice probably gobbled up the last three donuts so I wouldn’t be tempted. And for some reason, I can’t help but think you might’ve left some small puddles on the sofa from lactating if you naptate.
I was on a discussion on Facebook with some of my political friends and described some stupid statements as assholery. That stuck and now I see my friends using it. In fact, another writer friend thanked me for the word and said that he would be using it often.
Don’t want to burst a bubble (especially this one)… and re-discovery is cool, too. But (for the sake of accuracy) (some old etymology dictionary entry below):
Assholery, n.
1. a. A state of being an asshole. Obs. rare
1366 CHAUCEERE Rom. Rose 720 The swetnesse of his lyre Tolde al myne herte of his assholerye [Thynne assholerye].
Assholery (it’s almost like caravansary, isn’t it?) persists yet today in our 21st century world? Eventually, it must be that everything old is new again. I submit the new adj. ASSHOLIER, as in ‘than thou’. Or perhaps as in ‘he has so many assholes he has to wear pants on his ears.”
Thanks to everyone who chimed in on this. It seems you have as much fun with it as I do. If you would like the full file of 700+ Vorhausian neologisms, just send an email to john.vorhaus at gmail. In return, I will ask two things: 1) that I can harvest your email address for my lovingly hand-curated mailing list. 2) that if you’ve read and enjoyed anything by me (or just think I’m cute) you’ll tell the world through an Amazon review. Sound like a plan? I love it when those come together. -jv
John –
Loved this post. Lots of fun. I was wondering a bit more on how you make up the words. Do they just come to you? Do you sit down and work on making some up (like thinking of answers to a crossword – it being kind of work, that is)? Or do you come by them as you struggle to explain a concept as you’re trying to write a line in a story or essay?
Just curious.
Btw, I thought it a bit odd that when you said you “feel constrained to share some” that you chose the word constrained because it seems to be a bit opposite of how exuberant you are about the words.
Looks from the comments like you might’ve started a trend here.
I’m afraid I’ll never find another agent (mine left the biz).
I’m afraid I’ll never publish.
I’m afraid if I do publish, it’ll be a flop.
However!
I’m grateful for a place like WU where I feel like I’m not alone.
I’m grateful what I learn everyday from WU.
I’m grateful for the joy that writing gives me.
Fun, fun, fun!! Most of my neologisms happen because I have problems spelling!
I sure as mouses do!
I LOVE inventin’ new words and am particularly proud of the fact that the most famous word I have invented, MOUSES!, is now accepted by Blogger and Facebook spell checks.
What can I say? I know…. I can say, MOUSES! and that’s for sure.
Purrs,
Nissy