"The Book of Approved Words" by W.M. Pienton
A government writer must decide whether to save banned words from oblivion.
Hello everyone,
Just wanted to let you know we’ve hit over 100K subscribers! (+114K, actually!) That’s amazing! Thank you!
Also, our “Best of 2024” anthology comes out Feb. 1st. Click on the image to reserve your copy:
OTHER NEWS:
After Dinner Conversation is now offering advertising opportunities right here on Substack, as well as in the magazine and on our social media platforms. Here are the details.
Our editor-in-chief, Kolby Granville, was interviewed in PLATO: “Ethics and Science Fiction: Perfect Dance Partners?”
Volunteer as an acquisition reader and help us decide which story submissions get published. No experience required, just a keen eye for stories that make you think. If you’re interested, just shoot Kolby an email and he’ll get you set up.
Educators, find out how to get a free copy of a themed edition.
If you enjoy these stories and want to support writers and what we do, you can always subscribe to our monthly magazine via our website (digital or print), or via substack.
Also check out our free partner ebook downloads.
Thanks for reading, sharing, and re-stacking this post!
Tina
Take the poll for this week’s story, “The Book of Approved Words”:
(It’s completely anonymous…and fun!)
Last week’s poll results:
The Book Of Approved Words by W.M. Pienton
I relaxed on the couch watching an illegal show on videotape. “They had such freedom of language back then,” I thought.
“I told you to sit, retard,” the man on the screen shouted.
Reluctantly plopping down, the other man mumbled, “Faggot.”
“We can’t get away with those words anymore,” I thought, turning the volume down. When the episode finished, I shut off the VCR and TV. “Back to work,” I mumbled.
I am an Approved Writer and have to regularly update my published works, deleting words recently made illegal. Sitting, I read from my laptop: “The pink, blue, and white sky reminded me of Easter.” Earlier this year the word “Easter” was made illegal. It excludes non-Christians and is now considered offensive.
Two hours later, I leaned back in my chair rubbing my eyes, thinking, “Can’t take any more today. I really should be using the latest edition of the Book of Approved Words. I’d get evaluated if I missed something.” A colleague was recently imprisoned for using an illegal word. There were even rumors he was executed. I do not know if he was rebelling, or simply using an out of date book.
Not wanting to end up like him, I left the house and took a bus to the Bureau of Acceptable Language.
Approaching the desk, I asked for the latest edition of the book. “You’ll need to turn in your old copy,” said the bespectacled woman.
“Why? I never had to do it before.”
“It’s a new law. Once turned in, the old copies will be destroyed so all traces of the offensive words will be swept away.”
“I noticed the price’s gone up.”
“Leader needs to fund his reeducation programs. Upon returning with your old copy you’ll be fingerprinted.”
“That’s new too.”
“It’s to keep track of writers and help find word criminals. Oh, and don’t forget to renew your writing license.”
Nodding, I left the building.
Returning home, I flopped onto the couch and paged through my outdated book. “I don’t want it destroyed.” I gazed at my bookshelves, thinking, “Well, I still have my copies from previous years.” Snapping the book shut, I returned to the bureau.
I placed the book on her desk and she handed me a clipboard of forms. Filling them out, I returned it. “Alright sir, come this way for fingerprinting.”
Taking my new book, I thanked her and left. It gets thinner every year. If it continues like this we will be left with no words.
I entered the house finding my brother on the couch. “Hey Pete,” he said, standing. I quickly shut the door and drew the shades.
Silas was an Approved Writer. Last year he knowingly published an article using illegal words then went into hiding. Word Crimes even summoned me for questioning. I worry for him daily.
“You alright? What are you doing here?”
“I’m fine, but the Freedom of Speech Movement needs your help,” he said.
Originally labeled a hate group by the government, they were recently recategorized as terrorists. The Freedom of Speech Movement wants no word off limits, no subject taboo. They formed a little after the Bureau of Acceptable Language.
“I dunno. Maybe.”
“You have a rebellious streak, just not as pronounced as mine. You know Thomas Jefferson said, ‘I hold it that a little rebellion now and then is a good thing, and as necessary in the political world as storms in the physical.’ It’s sad most people don’t know who he was anymore.”
Tossing my jacket onto the couch, I sat. “I’ll think about it. Tell me what you need.”
“I need to scan the old books dad and grandpa left you.”
“What happened?”
“The bureau found and destroyed almost everything. We need to build a new database.”
“What if the bureau discovers where the scans came from?”
“Nobody but me will know, not even other members.”
Silas always kept his word. I sighed, “Why not. Coffee?”
“Sure,” he replied, sitting. He looked about the room and said, “Videotapes, huh?”
“The black market doesn’t exactly have a plethora of mediums to choose from.”
“Oo you said ‘plethora.’ That’s illegal you know,” he teased.
“Shut up,” I smirked. “I have deadlines to meet. If I miss one they’ll check on me so you’ll have to scan them yourself.”
“That’s fine. The equipment’s in my bag.”
“It’s gonna take at least a week,” I said, sitting and handing him a mug. “After our coffee I have to write.”
“To success,” he said, clinking his cup to mine.
We worked all night. After finishing the article I helped scan. Morning found us relaxing on the couch. We each had a tumbler of whiskey.
“Remember Melody?” slurred Silas.
“Yeah, I had a crush on her. She wrote poetry so I wrote some hoping to impress her.”
“That’s why you started writing.”
“What about her? How’s she doing?” I asked, taking a sip.
“She’s gone Pete, evaluated.”
We sat in gloomy silence. “Damn.” Glancing at the clock, I said, “I need some sleep. I have to appear before the Bureau of Acceptable Language board today.”
“What for?”
“Someone complained about a movie review I wrote, again.”
“Oh boy.”
“You got the couch. I’m going to bed.”
“You believe the wording is appropriate?” asked board member one, not looking up from my article.
“Yes,” I replied, trying to sound confident.
“And what’s the message you’re attempting to convey?” asked board member five.
“I thought it was pretty clear ma’am,” I said.
“Is it to make the reader happy? I’d like to hear your intention.”
“What are you trying to communicate?” asked board member one.
“I didn’t care for the film. It’s my honest opinion,” I said.
“This is the third negative article you’ve written in a row,” said board member five.
“You’re too pessimistic,” said board member four.
“They just have to stop making bad movies,” I said.
“We’re taking you off movies and reassigning you to musical album reviews.”
“Be positive,” said four.
“But honest,” added three.
“You may go,” said the chairman, gesturing.
“How’d it go,” asked Silas, looking up from his work.
Taking off my jacket, I said, “I’ve been reassigned to writing music reviews.”
“So, basically a warning.”
“Yeah. ‘Too pessimistic,’ they said. One of them told me to be positive while another said to be honest.”
“What’ll you do? Write sugarcoated reviews?”
“Yep. I’m going into the next room and listening to this album. You keep scanning.”
“Since you have to be positive just write the review without listening to it,” said Silas as I closed the door. “It’s gonna be awful,” he added, muffled on the other side. “They all are these days.”
Turning on my stereo, I poured a whiskey preparing for the worst. The music started and I winced. I turned it off thirty seconds later and wrote a sterling review. I opened the door and Silas grinned, saying “Done already?”
“Couldn’t even finish the first song. I gave the album five stars. The bureau loves it when I use stars. No words necessary.”
“Good, take over for a bit. I need a break,” he said, rubbing his eyes. Standing, he gave me the handheld scanner. “You know, the Freedom of Speech Movement is planning something big. I wasn’t gonna tell you but we couldn’t find anyone else.”
“What do you need me for?”
“Access to the Bureau of Acceptable Language. Only Approved Writers like you can email submissions to media outlets. They blindly publish anything they’re sent, too afraid of the bureau to say no. We want to submit an old dictionary.”
“The board will find out.”
“Yeah, after it’s published.”
“Probably won’t work,” I said, “And even if it does, change won’t happen overnight. I’ll have to go into hiding like you. Police will tear the house apart. They’d take or destroy everything.”
“Before we publish the dictionary my friends will move your things to a safe house.”
“You know the word ‘dictionary’ was made illegal last year. The board says that it’s too intimidating and makes people feel stupid,” I said, stalling.
“Where do we look up words now?”
“The Book of Approved Words has taken over the job,” I said. “If I did this, I’d be leaving behind everything I worked for.”
“Everything you write is monitored. You’ve never published a sentence you wanted to write and you live under constant threat of evaluation.”
I gazed around the room remembering our dad and grandfather. Sighing, I put my head down. “I suppose it’s time to move on.”
“Excellent,” said Silas.
The house was empty. It was early morning. We sat on the floor in front of the laptop. All that was left was to send the dictionary.
“They’ll publish it,” assured Silas, “if they don’t wanna get evaluated. They know the penalty for questioning an Approved Writer’s submission.”
“I just hope the board doesn’t catch it for a while,” I said, sending it and turning off the laptop. We left the house. At the end of the street, I turned looking one final time upon my old life.
“Ready?” Silas asked.
“Let’s go.”
“It’s getting light out.”
“Right now the sky kinda reminds me of Easter with the pinks, blues, and whites.”
Discussion Questions (Leave a comment!)
What are the reasons the government seems to want to remove words from the dictionary?
Does removing offensive (or hate speech) words from publication help limit the use (or spread) of those words (or thoughts) among the public?
What does the society think will happen if people are aware of the words they are missing? Is their action likely to get them closer to their goal?
Should there be forbidden knowledge or thoughts? Would you support a law that kept books that taught homemade bomb making from being printed and sold to the public?
Do you think there are more (or fewer) words being used now, than there were 200 years ago? Why is that so?
Check out the podcast discussion video!
Just wanted to say thank you for all the comments. That's the whole point of these stories we publish, to get beyond the usual rhetoric and get people talking in more respectful and thoughtful ways.
Very reminiscent of Ray Bradbury...