And now for something entirely different:
Today, especially for those of us who might be such word-obsessed-but-socially-disconnected nerds that we didn’t even know that the term “word nerd” was already a well-established thing, I present the results of some less-than-exhaustive Internet Research.
History of the word “nerd”: while the exact origin is, as the OED puts it, “uncertain and disputed,” the story is enough to invite entertaining speculation. The first appearance of “nerd” in print was in Dr Seuss’ If I Ran the Zoo (1950), where the Nerd is “depicted as a small, unkempt, humanoid creature with a large head and a comically disapproving expression” (OED). And within a year, in 1951, Newsweek mentioned “nerd” being used, at least in Detroit, to refer to “someone who once would be called a drip or a square.” Was there any connection between the two? Did college students, as some suggest, figure out that “drunk” spelled backward resulted in a clever term for non-partiers? (Will we ever know?)
In any case, the current OED entry reads “slang (originally U.S.). Mildly derogatory. An insignificant, foolish, or socially inept person; a person who is boringly conventional or studious. Now also: spec. a person who pursues an unfashionable or highly technical interest with obsessive or exclusive dedication.”
An bit of related family history: I recall thinking of my own teenage self as “so conventional I”m unconventional” — and, more recently, our daughter’s friend group at a similar age deciding to call themselves “the Nerd Club.”
As far as the term “word nerd”: the top entry on the Urban Dictionary website defines it as “a David Cook fan” — which carries the rather unsettling implication that everyone, and especially aspiring word nerds, should know who David Cook is. (Apparently he is someone who (a) won “American Idol” in the early 2000s and (b) shockingly admitted to enjoying crossword puzzles.)
Which reminds me that I was once reprimanded by an attending, perhaps in jest, for doing crossword puzzles between deliveries/admissions rather than reading medical literature related to my actual job as a neonatology fellow. As I recall, I had found it surprisingly comforting to clip out the NYT crossword every morning and attach it to one of those clipboards we used to carry everywhere in those pre-digital days. But once called out, I no longer dared bring crosswords to work. (So much for that small sense of mastery and order in the chaos of the NICU.)
Finally, there are at least two books titled Word Nerd — a 2010 work of juvenile fiction and a 2016 Scrabble-related memoir — as well as a book called Word Nerds aimed at helping teachers improve kids’ vocabularies and love for language. Of course there is no shortage of advertising for “word nerd” T shirts and other products. There are “word nerd” and “word-nerd” boards on Pinterest, a “word nerd quiz” on Britannica.com, a “word nerd” YouTube video from Scholastic, and even a handy list of “15 signs you’re a word nerd” posted in honor of Word Nerd Day, January 10, 2014.
Needless to say, if there’s a 2021 Word Nerd Day - or, for that matter, a Nerd Word Day — I’ll be there. (Heading off now to mark the calendar for January 10th.) Until then, I’ll be pondering whether there might be separate festivities for structure nerds, grammar nerds, usage nerds, punctuation nerds, translation nerds, and etymology nerds — as well as what might be the best way to celebrate being nerdy without being judgy: any ideas are welcome. Stay nerdy and wordy!