Words and the French of It All

By Nan Reinhardt

One day, my friend and fellow writer Liz Flaherty and I were talking about words we hate to see in books We both had a list, of course, because writers are an opinionated lot, and of course we know what’s best in any novel. Some of the words we listed? Moist. Quip. Adorable. The more crass terms for sex and body parts (I won’t list them here) bug both of us. Anytime a body part does something independent of the person it’s attached to, it annoys the heck out of me. Example, His eyes followed her. Ouch! That just sounds painful. How about His gaze followed her. 

In case you haven’t already figured it out, I confess I am a word freak, a language maven, a…a vocabularist, if you will. Okay, so maybe vocabularist isn’t actually a real word, but it should be because it describes me to a T. One thing Liz and I share is a love of words. We are both fascinated with language and how we use it, especially unusual or quirky terms. 

Several years ago, a friend sent me a note referencing something she’d read in political pundit Charles Krauthammer’s column, where he used the phrase Esprit d’escalier, referencing the fact that a politician had missed an opportunity to have the last word. Esprit d’escalier (“wit of the staircase”) is the French term for the devastating riposte that one should have given at dinner, but thinks of it only on the way out, at the bottom of the staircase.

Esprit d’escalier—wow! What a great term for coming up with the right crushing reply just a little too late. And it has the added bonus of being French, which is always a win for me. Incorporating French into my everyday usage is fun and helps me remember enough of the language that I won’t embarrass myself next time I go to Paris (that is happening!).  

Mon Amie is one my favorite endearments for friends and I often sign emails to close friends, Bises, which is the word for the French way of kissing each cheek in greeting. C’est la vie, c’est la guerre, c’est la pomme de terre is one of Son’s and my favorites. Translated literally, it’s “that’s life, that’s war, that’s a potato” but it means “That’s the way it goes” or “Dems de breaks,” and sometimes replaces merde (shit) when a disgusted French person is trying to be polite. I use Je ne sais quoi (I don’t know) and je t’aime (I love you) often. Husband and Son simply grin at each other. They know French is part of life with Nan, and that it’s not pretension on my part, but rather just a love of the language. Using French makes me happy.

As a writer and an editor, I have a passion for learning new words and using them. I got it from my mom, who also loved language and insisted we choose our words well. She spent serious time increasing our vocabularies with word games like Scrabble, Boggle, and Probe and crossword puzzles. To this day, family gatherings always include word games. I adore discovering new words and finding ways to use them in my writing, and isn’t that what the whole writing thing is about anyway?

So talk to me—tell me your favorite foreign phrases—the ones that bring you joy when you have the opportunity to include them in a conversation. Or share a great English word that makes you gleeful when you have the chance to use it.

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Nan Reinhardt is a USA Today bestselling author of sweet romantic fiction for Tule Publishing. Her day job is working as a freelance copyeditor and proofreader, however, writing is Nan’s first and most enduring passion. She can’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t writing—she wrote her first romance novel at the age of ten and is still writing, but now from the viewpoint of a wiser, slightly rumpled, woman in her prime. Nan lives in the Midwest with her husband of 48 years, where they split their time between a house in the city and a cottage on a lake.

Talk to Nan at: nan@nanreinhardt.com

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THE FIREMAN’S CHRISTMAS WISH, Nan Reinhardt

Her heart is wide open, but he’s nailed his shut.

Preschool teacher Harley Cole has always viewed life through rose-colored glasses. With a career she loves, friends she enjoys, and a home that is her haven, there’s only one thing missing—finding her soul mate. As the holidays approach, Harley is inspired to help her former high school crush rediscover his holiday joy. It’s just a good deed…until the feelings she thought were gone come rushing back.

Fire Chief Becker Lange returns home to River’s Edge with a heavy heart. His divorce has emotionally ravaged him, leaving him more confused than ever about what women want. So to protect himself from another failure, he closes his heart. And then Harley Cole makes him a flirty dare that she can help him overcome the holiday blues. Beck’s not sure he wants to, but Harley’s a hard woman to tell no.

Can the magic of Christmas and a sweet stray kitten bring these two lonely souls together?

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