The Dictionary Isn't the Rulebook. It's the Record.

Embracing the fluidity of language can redefine creative freedom.

This is part of my “Art of Noticing” series, in which I learn, find, or discover the things around me that usually go unnoticed and turn them into an endless source of creative inspiration.

Today, I learned that the dictionary is not, in fact, the “rulebook” for language. It’s actually a record of how language is currently being used. It got me thinking about rules … and how even rules don’t last forever.

My son told me about some new words that were being considered for inclusion in the dictionary. The winning entry was “goblin mode.”

As a stodgy, by-the-book grammarian, this took me by surprise. I like when linguistic rules are followed and dislike when they’re not. (And don’t get me started on the Oxford comma. You use it. ALWAYS.)

But then I learned something interesting: Apparently the dictionary isn’t a record of how language is supposed to be used. It’s a record of how it is being used.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Words are just the beginning. In truth, the "rules" I often rely on in my writing aren’t carved in stone and I damn well knew it all along. They’re really more like guidelines, based on what has worked before and what people are likely to expect. But even then, everything changes. Always. The dictionary’s real role in language (recording it as it evolves rather than fixing it in place) is a much bigger lesson on the nature of constant evolution.

We are artists. We of all people shouldn't be too beholden to “rules.” Like a dictionary being updated to reflect the pulse of living language, we creators should be willing to update our own creative "guidelines," letting each project define its own set of rules.

Here's how this "noticing" can benefit my stories and art:

Conventional Story Structures Are Optional

Every writer knows about the classic three-act structure, but who says you have to follow it? Tarantino fucks up structure all the time, relying on a more “you need to know this right now” style of delivering information in movies like Pulp Fiction. We got a fragmented, non-linear story, and it was wonderful for it. There’s a reason that movie’s so iconic.

I keep meaning to play with this. A story could unfold through an exchange of letters, diary entries, or even tweets. Just like language evolves and the dictionary adapts, so can our approaches to storytelling. Challenge the norms and we might just create the next big thing.

Rethinking Our Instruments

Anything can be or make art. Anything can be a canvas. Artists like Banksy used public spaces and unconventional mediums to not just display art but also to communicate powerful messages. Or Beck. Seriously. The stuff he uses to make his music goes far beyond the usual instruments.

Just like the dictionary isn't restricted to words that are "officially" part of the language, we don't need to restrict yourself to traditional artistic mediums. Instead, we can experiment: digital platforms, mixed media, interactive art forms, whatever. We should allow our creativity to evolve, just like language does.

The essence of art is pursuit of new things, or new reflections on old things. That implies the need for adaptation and evolution, not being stuck in our ways. Any creative pursuit should be able to adapt, evolve, and defy old constraints.

Maybe take a page from the dictionary’s playbook. Instead of being rigid, go with the flow instead.

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