I collect words with all of the vowels.
I think “equation” was the first. I don’t remember exactly what I was reading at the time, but when I happened upon the word, I stopped. And I looked over it very slowly. And I got a little zing! when I realized what made the word special. Since then I’ve added over twenty words with all of the vowels to my list (yes, there’s a list), though when you ask me what they are, I am stumped after mountaineer, revolutionary, sequoia, and facetiously (which has the added bonus of both the alphabetical appearance of the vowels and the sometimes y ending).
Does all-vowel-word-collecting keep me from enjoying a book while reading? No. I don’t read with the intent to find all vowel words. I read for pleasure and escapism. I imagine that I’ve bypassed several all vowel words over the course of years, words that I didn’t notice because I was too absorbed in the story to spot them. But when I do spot one, I stop. I read over it again and again, taking A-E-I-O-U inventory, making sure my brain isn’t tricking me. And then I find my notebook and add it to the list and return to my book with the smile that comes with discovery on my face.
It’s like spelunking. Okay, maybe not, but it’s like finding an unexpected treasure while I’m not even looking.
As a writer, I enjoy words. I like how the pairing and rearrangement of 26 letters can conjure up images, feelings, fear, happiness, tension, and romance. But I also like words as a visual art: on printed on fabric, stenciled on a wall, collected in a notebook for their novelty. Words inform my world in so many ways other than on the page that I can’t imagine life without them.