here are times when it becomes evident that writing is like magical spell-casting (if that were, indeed, a thing). It takes years to hone one’s writing ability. But once one is a writer, people in general concede that the writer has a power.
In the paper the other day, I read of a lawmaker who is enacting legislation to suppress voting (by making it illegal to distribute water to those waiting in hot sun-blasted lines for a chance to vote in ever-restricted poling places. I simply noted (in as few sentences and with as few words as possible) that such moves are designed to reduce the voting impact of minorities and the poor (often the same thing). My comment was so sharp that he actually responded to my letter, asking how it was racist (a word I did not use (but, in truth, implied)). I gave him sharp specifics at that point and gained no response (which, in these days of electronic media, counts as a minor win, I suppose). But still, I was pretty happy with the righteous power of my considered words.
And that’s what writers do. Unlike debaters (who have to quickly form arguments and respond on the fly), writers can consider and craft their contentions. They can employ words that project the most meaning, organizing their minimalizing sentences to produce a finely-constructed arguments. I’ll admit that, as a writer, I often review the opinion page of the local paper, deconstructing submissions that use obviously loaded words and trite equivalencies. Call it a hobby.
I recognize in the above that I am being clinically dry, and no my usual breezy self. I can feel the different sorts of writing magic I can employ (from my book reviews to my recounting of model train operations, from my newsletter publications to my Facebook stories). Writing is a skill, with all manner of prose and wording to be used.
So learn it. And employ it. And make magic!