I love words. I’m sure every writer does. I am a word freak, a language maven, a…a vocabularist, if you will. Okay, so maybe vocabularist isn’t actually a real word, but it should be because it describes me to a T. I am fascinated with language and how we use it, especially regional or quirky terms.
As a writer and an editor, I have a passion for learning new words and using them. I got it from my mom, who also loved language and insisted we choose our words well. She spent serious time increasing our vocabularies with word games like Scrabble, Boggle, and Probe and crossword puzzles. To this day, family gatherings always include word games. I adore discovering new words and finding ways to use them in my writing.
One of the things I am learning as I make the switch from small-town romance that happens in the Midwest to Montana cowboy romance is how language is different from one area of our country to another.
I’ve lived in the Midwest my whole life and there are things that we say that have unquestionably shown up in my River’s Edge books. “You betcha,” comes to mind. So does, “For cryin’ out loud” and “Slow as molasses in January” and talking about corn being “knee high by the Fourth of July.” (It’s always way higher by then, btw.) I remember my grandpa saying something moved “like a bat out of hell,” which always conjured the picture of a flock of bats darkening the sky and sometimes gave me nightmares. When Mom tucked us in at night, we were “snug as a bug in a rug,” and I recall my grandmother saying, “If I had my druthers” when she wanted us to know what she wanted to happen in any given circumstance.
But, the lingo out West comes from a different history and has lingered in the vernacular in Montana, Texas, Wyoming, and other ranch and cowboy states just like words have stayed in the Midwest. “Skedaddle” and “Ornery” and “Hold your horses” are all words/phrases that come from life on the cattle trail or ranch life. “Howdy” instead of “Hello” and someone who looks like a cowboy, but has no experience is “all hat and no cattle” are terms you don’t hear much in the Midwest.
Some of the terms around horses I already knew because we had horses for sixteen years, and I think barn slang is pretty universal in the US. “Barn sour” is when a horse is too eager to return home and a term I learned when I was first riding. But calling horses “critters” isn’t part of the cowboy vernacular according to my editor, when she queried the use in my first book, Forever Cowboy. (See what I did there? A link to the book is what I call ninja promo—my own term.) “Hightailin’ it” and “Tinhorn” are terms that might show up in Western romance. My hero in Forever Cowboy was originally from Boston, so he got a little pass when it came to cowboy speak.
Another difference between my Montana cowboys and my Indiana winemakers, government analysts, firefighters, and attorneys is how much they talk. One of my critique partners has always told me that my heroes talk too much. Maybe they do, but I live with and raised men who ruminate and discuss and share their feelings, so my heroes probably do talk too much–just like the men in my real life. Not so much my cowboys, though. They keep it short and simple with Yup and Nope and dropping the g from the end of their verbs. They’re goin’ and ridin’ and fixin’ and of course always lovin’.
You can show exactly who a character is simply with the words they use… so authors choose their characters’ words carefully as they build their arcs and tell their stories. Remaining as true as possible to where your character hails from helps readers stay in the story.
Where do you come from? Are there words or phrases that are especially peculiar to your neck of the woods. Share with me, won’t you? There are a couple of e-book copies of my newest cowboy romance, Help Wanted, Cowboy (ninja!) up for grabs for two lucky commenters.
Stay well and Keep Readin’!
Confession? I don’t know any real cowboys. I’ve read about them in the novels that my fellow western romance authors write; I’ve watched myriad TV westerns both new and old and rodeo videos galore. We had horses for fifteen years, so I’ve met lots of horsemen, some may even have thought of themselves as cowboys, some sure acted as if they thought they were. But a cattle drive in Montana is very different from riding the horse trails in a state park in the Midwest.
But as I learned more and more about cowboys, I discovered that “alpha” didn’t really define the cowboy heroes I was reading about and watching. The swaggering stereotypical cowboy I’d always imagined was so far off the mark that I was actually shocked … and delighted. That quiet strength, that determination that I’d written into my beta winemakers, veterinarians, carpenters, college professors, and chefs were also hallmarks of the cowboy persona. When I created bronc rider Del Foster and rodeo cutting champion Bo Kennedy, those qualities—gentleness, intelligence, supportiveness, loyalty, steadiness, awareness of their own emotions as well as others—were all things my cowboys could be … and are.
The Cowboy’s Comeback
I was on a writer retreat with my bestie, Liz Flaherty a couple of weeks ago. It was fabulous. We wrote, we drank wine, we ate chocolate, we talked, we processed her book and mine. Our retreats are always as Liz puts it,
We talked about the little pieces of ideas that wander through our writer minds—snippets of conversations, words, things we notice that perhaps no one else notices. We share ideas about settings, even as minute as the furnishings in a specific house in a setting. That got me thinking about where my random ideas rest in my imagination—on a chintz chair, I think. Faded old flowered fabric on a huge overstuffed chair sitting in a sunny spot under the eaves. Maybe there’s an ottoman, but it doesn’t have to match because honestly, my decorating style, like my writing style, is as random as my ideas. So why would I imagine something that matches?
Everyone has word pictures in their minds—and often it takes just seeing a pair of fancy cowboy boots in a store in West Yellowstone, Montana, or a rusty pump on a ranch in Virginia City for a story to start to happen.
ght over in her grave if she saw what you pulled in there. You were going to let that man shoot you.”
