I pretty much disagree with the entire premise of this article.

I know lots of words. Most people who write pride themselves on their vocabularies. Perhaps because I've been slumming most of my life I've long since learned to avoid most of the words I know because in general, the person I'm talking to doesn't know the definition of "inviolate" let alone "fustian."

It's a point Stephen King hammers home time and time again in On Writing - punching up what you've written with shiny baubles rescued from your favorite thesaurus is the sort of thing beginners and hobbyists do. For the people who are actually attempting to communicate an idea, wielding words you don't know by heart is the quickest way to fuck it up.

See, language is not precise. It's fluid and contextual. Did you know that you can use the phrase "money shot" in discussing cinematography with no problems whatsoever? That's because it's where the term originated. Amongst professionals, "money shot" means a shot that delivers on a setup. But because of porn, saying "money shot" on an internet forum gets people sniggering at you. These are the sorts of things that, as a writer, you need to consider and account for.

Digging up a dictionary from 1913 isn't going to improve that. A hundred years ago, "inflammable" meant "likely to catch fire", African Americans were niggers and people of mixed European-African heritage were Mulattos. Hell, not twenty years ago children with learning disabilities were retarded.

And those are just the problems you run into with native English speakers. They're no longer a majority, by the way - if you speak Hindi or Cantonese better than you speak English, "a sparkling light reflected from something wet" is a much more useful definition than "to shine with a soft and fitful luster, as eyes suffused with tears, or flowers wet with dew." Less evocative? Damn straight. Devoid of poetry? True dat. Vastly easier to translate into fifteen languages? guilty.

This house owns two large, healthy American Heritage Dictionaries. My wife's dates to 1976. Mine dates to 1944. Neither of them are particularly useful. My dad went on a dictionary binge a couple years back; he bought three. The mildest of them is two three-inch-thick volumes. The most extreme came with a stand and a looking glass because the print is so small. Even still it's six volumes. And if you want to really dig into a word, they can't be beat.

But that's not what communication is about. That's not the point of putting words to paper. The object of the game is to place your reader squarely in your head, seeing and feeling as you do. And when you go spelunking for magic words, your reader can see it. It's like crafting this beautiful vista with blowing grain and purple glaciered peaks in the distance and high cirrus frozen in time and the slightest smell of frost on the air and

THUNK

"What the fuck was that?" the reader asks.

He looks down. He has stubbed his toe on a fustian. At least, that's what he thinks has happened. He has no idea what shape it is, what color it is or what the fuck it's doing here in amongst the glory. All he knows is he's never seen one before... and that it doesn't belong here.