I’m sure a lot of people remember the exact moment they discovered their love of words. Me, I can’t recall a moment before I had. Imagining a world where I’m not surrounded, inundated, and overwhelmed with (and by) words every day is a horrific post-apocalyptic nightmare—a life measured in Kraft Singles and boxed wine. In my world, the correct use of an em dash is orgasmic, an apostrophized plural the equivalent of the combined screams of a dying universe. This may be a mild exaggeration. However, in a world where people so infrequently mean what they say and say what they mean, every word, every space, every pica counts. I love them all. Especially “tessellate”. That’s a great word.

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