We who write the words can entertain, confound, confirm—anything can be concluded from what we say, intended or not. Sometimes I forget this. Recently, however, I got a reminder, courtesy of a party game devised for the amusement of our guests.
At the heart of it were ornaments labeled specifically for each person, but by description, not name. The glittering and tasseled things were scattered throughout the house, and in between eating, drinking, and talking, the idea was for each guest to find his or her own and claim it.
Future poet laureate. Fresh from the hell, and better than ever. Most gracious woman in the room.
There were 120 in all, an array of miniature pickles, handbags, shoes, polka dots, petit fours, orbs, olives . . . It was remarkable to see who took what, spirits rising, and before long baubles hung from buttonholes and strands of pearls.
“Is this mine? Is this it?” What was not said, the implied question “How is it that you think this of me?”.
Most beautiful woman in the world was coveted. So was the mock: Our boys, your girls, finished.
No one claimed Wicked gossip, reliably dispensed, but a few people wanted to meet that person.
And the competition was positively fierce for Get naked and light up a joint. (The ultimate taker proved his chops with the observation that I had the order wrong: first the joint, then the naked.)
Future mayor. The one I call when I’m in trouble. If only my hips could move like yours.
I was surprised at how much explaining I had to do. I thought people would recognize themselves. Some tags had direct quotes, no less. And though I knew there might be multiple contenders for things, to me, there was only one best answer.
Who’s a queen? Who’s a visionary? Wasn’t it obvious? And how about married to a peach? Apparently there was room enough on that one to drive a convertible straight through.
It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise that my guests wouldn’t necessarily see themselves as I saw them. But it was also a reminder to me: readers don’t always read things the way we intend them. Five words—or even fifty thousand—and a reader will conclude as he chooses.
Partial to our own point of view, is there anything we can do to secure its adoption?
A few things, maybe. We can sharpen our words, of course, and think for a minute as well about how to build confidence in the reader that we have it right. And when we think we’ve finally got it, we can step away from the page, pretend we are strangers, and consider how we might be heard.
Comments welcome and edited to include first names only, and website, if provided; never your email. Photo credit: moonstarsandpaper.
You do know how much I love to read your posts. Always interesting, thoughtful and thought-provoking. And lovely.
What a wonderful activity! Reminds me a little of what a dear friend did for my 40th birthday party. She printed out slips of paper with single words on them, attached each to a helium balloon and filled my house with them. During the party, guests were invited to choose a word that described their view of me or their relationship with me and tell me why.
It was an amazing evening and I have all the words in a scrapbook.
Definitely can see how playing the game like that would work. My first thought was that each guest was given a slip of paper that described the ornament, then they had to find it. I like this way better, but I envision your process in coming up with descriptions to be something that was unique about each one, but playing against each other. Perhaps having some ambivalent ones, some which could define several people, is a way to soothe the insecurities we might all have about how we are seen by others, but I wonder how many went how and really thought you meant them with “wicked gossip”? Still, love the creativity with which you build this neat game and gifting idea, as well as an ice-breaker perhaps?
Wow. Now that’s pretty special. How very cool. Thanks for sharing.
The idea came together rather last minute. My husband and I spent a happy hour flying through the Christmas Shop gathering ornaments that didn’t break the budget. Do you know how much you could spend on an ornament these days? If I had my druthers, I’d have gone all vintage, but that simply was not an option. As for the tags–well, of course, that’s what made the game. I had no idea if it would work, but I think it was fun. Certainly it was fun for me because it gave me a near-sure way of seeing everyone, at least for a minute. As for the sentiments, I meant them. I have no idea how many found the one I had in mind for them, but I loved seeing who took what. / Thanks for writing, Di. You have a thoughtful mind, and I’d love to hear from you again. D
Julia–if I were to make a tag for you, you WOULD be the peach. Nice to hear from you. Happy holidays.
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