Wordsmithery. Back off autocorrect.

It’s a word. I’ve never heard anybody say, “wordsmithery,” and I’m okay with that. I discovered this vocab gem, when I was looking up “wordsmith” to see if it’s technically correct to use it as a verb. It’s not, but that’s not why I cringe when I hear it.   

 

I have no problem with “wordsmith,” as a noun. I kinda like it. It makes crafting copy sound like a blue-collar skill passed down from a more resourceful generation. A working man’s desk job. Worthy of defending against the rote prose of the self-aware machines. I envision myself with ink-stained hands, suspenders and black-leather boondockers resisting the notion of even shortcut keys.

 

“Wordsmith” as a verb? Not as days-of-yore romantic to me.

 

What clients say: “We’re getting pretty close on our messaging strategy. Could you give us your POV and wordsmith it where you think we need it?”

 

What I hear: “Hey pal, gotta couple adjectives to shine up this hardworking functional gold? I’m gonna run and grab a coffee. Check back in 15 minutes or so?”

 

My inference probably says more about a fragile writer ego than the actual request.  

 

My point is “wordsmith” as a verb leaves too much to interpretation. When working with someone for the first time, there’s the intricate art of aligning on terminology based on our prior roles and experience. Who knows what “smithing” means to them.

 

But for this smith, the most objective definition means the messaging strategy is baked. You know what to say to who, and your reasons to believe are tighter than last year’s wool sweater.

 

The smithin’ is how the message comes to life. And it’s still a wide gray expanse between working in a couple of on-brand compound adjectives and writing an extensive brand story.

 

I’m happy to smith it up anywhere within that range or even help out with other marketing smithery. Yep, a word.

 

If you follow the link, click the audio button 3 times fast, and tell me if you chuckle.