Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Elizabeth Swann: Captain Barbossa, I am here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal.

Captain Barbossa: There are a lot of long words in there, Miss; we’re naught but humble pirates. What is it that you want?

Elizabeth: I want you to leave and never come back.

Barbossa: I’m disinclined to acquiesce to your request. …Means “no”.

– Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)

Ten years ago, Walt Disney Pictures and Jerry Bruckheimer Films released the first in a series of movies based on the beloved Disney ride “Pirates of the Caribbean”. I remember watching it as a teenager and really enjoying it, mostly for how certain details of it took me back to our Walt Disney World trips during my childhood (the dog with the keys, anyone?). I also remember laughing at the above dialogue for Captain Barbossa’s wit in conversing with Elizabeth Swann, not to mention the handful of “long words” they used with which I wasn’t yet familiar. While I could just as easily have gone with any of the others, I chose to feature in this segment the word I considered the most interesting. I hope you’ll agree!

To “acquiesce” in a request or proposal is to accept it without protest, albeit reluctantly so. The word comes from the Latin verb acquiescere, meaning “assent” or “submit”. This word is made up of two roots: the preposition ad- “to, at” and the verb quiescere “to rest”.

Honestly, I haven’t heard the word “acquiesce” used much outside of the first Pirates movie. I do think it sounds rather elegant, though, which is why I wouldn’t mind using it occasionally (that is, sparingly) in my writing to add to the flow of a story. I should also note that I can’t be certain if Captain Barbossa used the correct preposition after “acquiesce”; the only examples I’ve found use “in” instead of “to”, but I haven’t yet been able to find out if “to” is also fine, so be sure to use the word carefully. Still, even without ever having heard the word before, it’s pretty clear from context that the captain is blatantly refusing to agree to the young lady’s proposal. He may be just a humble pirate, but you have to admit, Barbossa did find a pretty clever way to say “no”!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

“Acumen” is one of those words that I don’t see or hear very often because it only seems to come up in very specific contexts. For instance, the first example that comes to my mind is always “business acumen”, referring to the sharp wit it takes to succeed in the business world. I have to admit, though, that “acumen” is something I myself don’t possess, since I tend to take my sweet time thinking things through before coming to a conclusion…

“Acumen” is a person’s capacity for making quick decisions and good judgments, usually in a specific domain. The word itself is originally Latin and means “sharpness” or “point”. This noun comes from the verb acuere “sharpen”, which is also the root of the word “acute” (as in “having or showing a perceptive understanding or insight”).

When it comes to general uses of the word, I can’t be entirely certain how to apply it, as I don’t believe I’ve heard it used outside of references to particular areas of expertise before. Every time I’ve encountered the word “acumen”, it’s always been preceded by an adjective, suggesting that it works best when describing a specific type of shrewdness. Therefore, I would use it to define the capacity of characters who excel in their respective fields, and simply use synonyms like “sharp-wittedness” and “astuteness” for general contexts. Some have “business acumen”, some have “political acumen”, and some have “scientific acumen”. Now I have to wonder: is there such a thing as “writing acumen”?

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Today’s Word of the Week was suggested by my dad, an intelligent man with a keen interest in politics. Anyone following the political news in the USA has probably been hearing a lot of the word “gerrymandering” lately. Some of you may already be familiar with this word, but to those of you wondering what in the world it means, I understand how you feel. I admit I don’t care very much for politics, so when I first heard talk of “gerrymandering” happening in the American government, I took it as an opportunity to learn a new word. What I found upon doing research was much more than a simple definition, but an interesting backstory to go with it…

“Gerrymander” (often used as the noun “gerrymandering”) means to establish a political edge by creating partisan-advantaged districts through manipulation of boundaries. The word was coined from a political cartoon printed in 1812 (shown right), satirizing the redrawn Massachusetts election districts under Governor Elbridge Gerry, which when mapped out, resembled the shape of the mythical salamander. Since the first printing of the term “Gerry-mander” (originally pronounced GE-ree-man-dər) as a reference to the advantage Governor Gerry gained for his party after redistricting the state, the word was officially included in the English language in 1848 and remains in use today.

Since I don’t want to spark a political debate, I’ll leave opinions on the word’s most recent uses entirely up to you. What I can say, however, is that its references to a disproportion in power definitely give “gerrymander” a negative connotation. Though it’s a good word to know, its uses are obviously limited to very specific contexts. So if you write political thrillers, you’ll certainly be able to get much more use out of it than I ever will. Be sure to keep “gerrymandering” in mind if your characters are politicians!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Today’s Word of the Week was suggested by HD of No Vinyl Mind, who recommended it after reading it in a book (and again online). I admit that I myself was not familiar with this word, for as hard as I thought about it, I couldn’t recall a single instance in which I had ever heard something described as “numinous”. I did like the sound of it, though, so I jumped at the chance to research it and add another word to my vocabulary list. Thanks for the suggestion, HD!

When something is defined as “numinous”, it’s implied that it has some sort of spiritual quality or religious undertone to it. That’s because the word comes from the Latin noun numen (also used as a word in English), meaning “divine power” or “god”. This word arose in the mid 17th century and is supposedly derived from the verb nuere “to nod”, suggesting an original definition along the lines of “divine approval expressed by nodding”.

Now, according to the research I did, “numinous” can also be used to describe what is awe-inspiring, as in what evokes a mystical or sublime sense (as noted on this interesting vocabulary blog, also recommended by HD). Based on this, I’d suggest using the word to describe something so overwhelmingly magnificent that it gives the sense of having a spiritual presence (e.g. “numinous beauty of ancient landmarks”). “Numinous” itself is a fascinating word, so have fun working it into your writing. See what you can find in your own worlds with such divine character!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

I love colors. Anyone who knows me well can vouch for my nerdy knowledge of colors names, from vermilion to chartreuse to aubergine. I’ve been called out for describing things as “turquoise” or “cerulean” when “blue” would have sufficed, and I probably recognize enough shades of green to write an epic poem about a tree in midsummer. So when I find a word that covers several different colors at once, I almost instantly fall in love with it. “Prismatic”, “harlequin”, “kaleidoscopic”, all are great adjectives for defining different things that are multicolored. But of this list of synonyms, my favorite is probably “opalescent”.

Anything “opalescent” shows a variety of shifting colors. Naturally, it’s easy to recognize the root noun “opal” in this adjective, a reference to the semitransparent gemstone most notable for its varying colors. The very word “opal” can be traced back to different languages like the French noun opale or the Latin noun opalus. Interestingly, these Latin-based words probably originated from the Sanskrit noun upala “precious stone”, as the first samples of these gemstones came from India.

Why do I consider “opalescent” my favorite “multicolored” word? Honestly, I think it has a lot to do with the fact that the opal is my birthstone (for anyone keeping track, its month is October). Maybe it’s for this reason that I’ve always had a fondness for this stone, or maybe it’s simply for its beautiful array of colors that seem to outshine almost every other type of gem. The opal is my favorite precious stone, and for that, I feel that only the loveliest displays of varying color deserve to be described as “opalescent”.

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.

– The Monster, Frankenstein (Mary Shelley, 1818)

Frankenstein was one of the novels I had to read for Language Arts class in the seventh grade. It was my teacher’s absolute favorite book in the world, which is why she would have her students read it every year. Since I was only 12 years old the one time I read it, I can’t say I recall very much from the novel, but if there’s one thing I do remember, it’s that the book was packed with vocabulary words that I had certainly never seen or heard before. Some of these, the teacher would write on the blackboard as the vocabulary word of the day, and of the handful that I still remember, “benevolent” was one of her favorites.

A “benevolent” person is someone who is generally kind and well intentioned in their actions. When referring to an organization, “benevolent” indicates a charitable purpose as opposed to a profitable one. The word comes from the Old French adjective benivolent, which originates from Latin bene volent, meaning “well wishing”. This term is comprised of two roots: the adverb bene “well” and the verb velle “to wish”.

The above quote is from a scene in the aforementioned novel when the monster confronts his creator about the misfortunes provoked by the latter’s abandonment of the former. The creature begs for a companion, arguing that he is naturally good and that his loneliness and suffering were what brought about his evil acts. Based on this example, “benevolent” seems to be a good word to imply a deeper level of innate kindness, much like “altruistic“. Like the poor tortured soul in Mary Shelley’s classic science fiction novel, even a character known to commit terrible acts can still be good at heart (at least until their spirit is broken completely)!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Amy: (after Leonard leaves while Sheldon is talking) That was rude.

Sheldon: He does it all the time. He’s a cornucopia of social awkwardness.

Amy: Cornucopia. What a mellifluous word.

Sheldon: Let’s make that our word of the day.

Amy: Agreed. And we’ll use mellifluous tomorrow.

– The Big Bang Theory (Season 4, Episode 5 – The Desperation Emanation)

Yes, it’s another example taken from The Big Bang Theory. I know I’ve used quite a few of these already, but what can I say? I love this show, and it does have some great vocabulary words scattered throughout the dialogue. In this example, Amy comments on an interesting word that Sheldon uses to define Leonard, a word they both agree is “musical” enough to their ears to warrant a place on their daily vocabulary list (as is the word they use to describe it).

A “mellifluous” sound is one that’s pleasing to hear, especially when referring to a voice or words. The term comes from the Latin adjective mellifluus, which combines two roots: the noun mel “honey” and the verb fluere “to flow”. It’s believed that the word in English arose in the late 15th century to describe what was sweet and smooth, that is, what seemed to “flow like honey”.

Like many other words used on The Big Bang Theory, I had never heard “mellifluous” until it was used by one of the show’s eccentric characters. Based on what little I know about it, I might use it to describe the sweet voice of a gentle character or the sound of affectionate words exchanged between lovers. According to other definitions, “mellifluous” can also be used to define a smooth style of writing, and might even be considered more applicable to writing while a synonym like “dulcet” (also meaning “sweet”) would be a better alternative for describing sound (I couldn’t find a reliable citation, though, so trust this information at your own risk). To be safe, “mellifluous” should probably be applied to something audible, but it’s really up to you to decide exactly what you want to describe as “sweet and smooth”. Use it however you see fit!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

So I was looking through a stack of old SAT vocabulary flashcards when a rather interesting word suddenly jumped out at me. The moment I saw it, I paused and stared at the noun on the front side. “Conflagration”? What is that? I decided it was worth a shot to try and guess the definition, so I resisted the urge to turn the card over while I thought about what this word could mean. The event of being caught in the act of a crime? An offense of some sort? The act of having property taken away? No, wait, that last one is “confiscation”… Anyway, turns out none of my guesses were correct, though that isn’t to say they weren’t close…

A “conflagration” is, in simple terms, a great fire. To name an example, the incident mentioned on the SAT flashcard is the huge fire that resulted from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. The word comes from the Latin verb conflagrare (translated as “to be consumed by fire”), which is comprised of the roots con- (denoting intensive force) and flagrare (meaning “to blaze”). Notably, this last verb is also the root of the word “flagrant”, meaning “obviously offensive”, which you can see was one of my first guesses for the definition of “conflagration”.

To be honest, I have virtually no memories of reading this word in context until recently, though I’m sure it must have appeared somewhere in my literature and/or history textbooks in grade school. Even if it does come up in a story I’ve read before, it probably didn’t call enough of my attention for me to remember it. That being said, I do think “conflagration” has a certain formal appeal to it, which is why I would most likely use it in non-fiction writing and poetry (especially rhyming poems, as there are tons of other words that end in -tion). I’m sure it would also be a good word to keep in mind for a scene in a thriller that involves a large destructive fire, since synonyms that don’t include the word “fire” seem to be relatively scarce. Either way, you can never have too great an understanding of the forces of nature, so be creative in working this noun into the context of your choice. Whether factual or poetic, “conflagration” is certainly an unusual and interesting word! Have fun!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Tulio: Any last words?

Miguel: I will cut you to ribbons!

Tulio: Fool! Such mediocrity! Let your sword do the talking!

Miguel: I will, it will be loquacious to a fault!

– The Road to El Dorado (2000)

Anyone who ever enjoyed animated films as much as my sisters and I did (and still do, at least in my case) probably remembers a rather entertaining Dreamworks film from 2000 titled The Road to El Dorado, which tells the story of two con artists from 16th-century Spain and the adventure that leads them to El Dorado, the lost city of gold, in the New World. Aside from countless laughs shared with my sisters and about half a dozen Elton John songs that I couldn’t get out of my head, this movie also brings back the memory of the first time I heard the word “loquacious” used in a sentence. Of course, it would still be a few years before I understood what Miguel was saying while pretending to duel with Tulio, for it wasn’t until I looked up the meaning of this word that I recognized his comment for the comically poetic retort it was intended to be.

Put simply, a “loquacious” person is someone who is naturally talkative. The word stems from the Latin adjective loquax, which basically means “talkative”. This word, in turn, has roots in the Latin verb loqui, meaning “to talk” or “to speak”. “Loquacious” is also believed to have originated in the mid 17th-century, which, when you think about it, makes its use in the setting of The Road to El Dorado an anachronism. But who really cares about such details when it comes to a children’s movie, right?

It should be noted that while “loquacious” is another word for “talkative”, the two adjectives aren’t exactly synonyms. A “talkative” person is usually ready and willing to engage in conversation, while a “loquacious” person is often considered excessively chatty, possibly to the point of being annoying. Therefore, one could read Miguel’s comment about his “talkative sword” as a little redundant, though I don’t believe it takes away from the hilarity of the show he and Tulio put on as a cover to escape from the authorities!

Tulio: Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve decided it’s a draw!

Miguel: Thank you all for coming! You’ve been great, see you soon!

Tulio: Adios!

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?

Source: Oxford Dictionaries

Joe Fox: So what’s his handle?

[…]

Kathleen Kelly: All right, NY152.

Joe: N-Y-one-five-two. One hundred and fifty-two. He’s a hundred and fifty-two years old. He’s had one hundred and fifty-two moles removed, so now he’s got one hundred fifty-two pock marks on his… (laughing) on his face… […] A hundred and fifty-two stitches from his nose job. The number of his souvenir shot glasses that he’s collected in his travels.

Kathleen: No! The number… The numb- His address? No! No, he would never do anything that prosaic.

– You’ve Got Mail (1998)

I always remember this excerpt from the movie You’ve Got Mail as the first instance in which I ever heard the word “prosaic”. While executing his plan to win over his love interest before revealing himself as her secret online friend, Joe Fox casually strikes up a conversation with Kathleen Kelly about the mystery person with whom she’s become infatuated. The two of them have fun trying to decipher the meaning of his screen name and come up with some colorful explanations for the number 152 – such as how many people think he looks like Clark Gable (or a Clark Bar) – so that by the time Kathleen stumbles upon the right answer, she merely dismisses it as an idea too straightforward for the poetic gentleman she’s come to know through the Internet (unaware, of course, that he’s standing right next to her).

An idea regarded as “prosaic” is considered simple and ordinary, sometimes in the sense of being boring. Writing or speech that’s “prosaic” is straightforward in style, thus lacking in poetic charm. The word can be traced back through Latin, from the adjective prosaicus (“in prose”) to the adjective prosa (“straightforward style”). “Prosaic” was also used in the late 16th century as a noun referring to a writer of prose, and its current definitions date back to the 18th century.

I find the word “prosaic” interesting for its contrast with the word “poetic”. Because these adjectives seem to be mutually exclusive, writing and speech can usually be considered either one or the other. That isn’t to say they’re collectively exhaustive, of course; one could argue that “purple prose” is a form all of its own, incorporating elements of both while having neither the straightforwardness of prose nor the elegance of poetry. Despite its possible neutral connotations, I would likely use the word “prosaic” in a sense similar to “pedestrian“, that is, to indicate an idea that’s a little too plain for its given context. Whether you use it to refer to a simple form of composition or to a humdrum concept, “prosaic” is an interesting word to consider for your writing (even if you wouldn’t necessarily use it to describe your style).

What are your thoughts on this word? Any suggestions for future “Word of the Week” featured words?