I had to admit I was a word nerd when I got excited about a great price on an unabridged dictionary at Barnes & Noble, one with a four inch spine. I thought, Wow that must include almost everything! Like the huge dictionary at the library on a stand because it’s too heavy to lift. Of course, I bought it.
Maybe I could have maintained my “normal person” façade if I had been alone when I purchased the massive book, but my husband was with me. He already knew I had word-nerd proclivities, so he didn’t intervene; he just gave me that you’re-kidding-right look.
I remember when being called a nerd was a real insult. I wanted to be cool. Didn’t you? So interactions with other word nerds were cultish. We spoke about our little fetishes privately, like drug addicts.
Today, I’ve owned up to my inner nerd. I recently discovered, Jasper Fforde’s The Well of Lost Plots. We’re talking word-nerd crack. Hardcore wordplay. There’s no going back into the closet now, no way to hold onto the image of respectable mystery or history reader. Once you’ve crossed into Jurisfiction, character exchange programs, and grammasites, the Cheshire Cat is out of the . . . okay, time to stop now.
When did you admit you’re a word nerd? Please add a comment.