Okay, here’s a question only a writer could consider fondly: do you remember your first dictionary? Mine was a big, red, faux-leather bound Webster’s Encyclopedic, which my Mum bought in the early 70s. It was the thickest, heaviest book we owned and, along with Blue Peter and eggs and bacon, was one of the few things that never let us down. It was always there – always right.
There’s been lots of others since: pocket editions, abridged versions, one huge Collins Roberts French/English from the early nineties and, more recently, a Junior Oxford. But none of them will ever match that old Webster’s. To my mind it remains the font of all knowledge. Read the rest of this entry »
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