Thomas Mann, the winner of the 1929 Nobel Prize in Literature, said, “A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”

I agree with Thomas Mann. Having logged more than 39,000 hours of writing during the past 30 years, I can say with confidence that no sane person fights quite so fiercely or so long to find exactly the right word as does the writer. And to hear a word used inappropriately causes the ear to itch like a mosquito bite.

My warm heart overflows with hope that you will find the next few paragraphs to be instructive, insightful, and illuminating, but my cold and calculating mind suspects that you will find these paragraphs to be mildly comical, at best.

If you were to choose to quit reading right now, I would understand.

Oh, my. You’re still here.

I suppose I should begin.

I was contemplating my admiration of 86-year-old Carol Burnett when I realized that she is probably the most active and vibrant of the female television stars of the late 1960’s.

When I Googled “female television stars of the 1960s” I was surprised to see that virtually every website included not just the female television stars, but the female movie stars, as well.

“Is there a difference?” you ask.

Yes, there is a difference. Television stars are famous for their television shows. Movie stars are famous for their movies. And sex symbols are famous for their sex appeal. Famous sex symbols of that era include Barbara Eden in “I Dream of Jeannie,” and Donna Douglas as Ellie Mae Clampett in “The Beverly Hillbillies,” who served as the prototype for another hillbilly sex symbol, Daisy Duke, played by Catherine Bach eight years later on “The Dukes of Hazzard.”

Television Star, Movie Star, and Sex Symbol are three different designations, although it is possible for one person to be all three.

I confess that I am equally distressed by the rampant misuse of the word, “mentor.”

People often tell me about their “mentors,” and then proceed to list people whose work influenced and inspired them, even though none of those “mentors” interacted with them directly, or even knew that they were alive. If we want to be accurate, we will say that the work of such a person influenced us and inspired us, but we will not go so far as to call them our “mentor.”

If a person is your mentor, you are their apprentice, their protégé. A person is your mentor when they take an interest in you and devote a meaningful amount of time and energy into your future.

Lucille Ball did far more than influence and inspire Carol Burnett. She actively mentored Carol until April 26, 1989.

On Carol Burnett’s 56th birthday, she woke up to hear the news that her longtime friend and mentor, Lucille Ball, had died unexpectedly.

Carol was devastated.

Several hours later, there was a knock on her door. Carol Burnett opened the door to see a delivery man holding a huge bouquet of flowers with a note that said, “Happy Birthday, Kid. Love, Lucy.”

Thirty years later, Carol cannot speak of it without crying.

Roy H. Williams