40 WEEKS OF ME- Week 5, Language

I wish I was a polyglot.

I keep hoping that my parents are right and that if I try real hard I'll finally become fluent in another language. Then I remind myself that if it hasn't sunk in after 40 years, chances are good (not impossible) that the most I can aspire to reach is  bi, possibly trilingual status before I leave this world.

So where does this leave me. I am a mini polyglot. Micro, minuscule, barely worthy of whispering the name. I know how to say thank you in seven languages. It's always good to be polite, especially if you're lost in Mexico (spring break in San Felipe was a little crazy during my college days). I can get by with rudimentary Spanish. Enough so I wouldn't starve and could find el bano if I had to pee.

Okay, I speak Spanish a little better than that, but most native speakers find my attempts hilarious. I am stubborn, so I keep trying even in the face of abject humiliation.

Because of my Creole roots, you'd think my father would've taught me French so I could at least communicate with the family elders, but he didn't. I think this is fairly common in many families. Unfortunately, this is the reason Louisiana French Creole is in danger of dying out.

My dad is fluent in French, Spanish, and Korean from when he was stationed in S. Korea. He spoke Creole to coomunicate with French military officers when they were stationed together in Saudi Arabia during the Gulf War. So, French Creole is my second language to work on getting fluent in

To be considered a polyglot, you have to be fluent in four languages. Sticking with a romance languages would be the smartest move to achieve success. Italian should come next; however, I'm more fluent in Korean.

Let me clarify that by saying that I understand quite a bit of Korean now (all of my K-dramas are paying off). I'm also learning to read it. It's easy to memorize Hangul, the Korean alphabet if you put it to song. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star works for memorizing the consonants. Unfortunately, my  ability to wrap my tongue around pronouncing the words correctly is sadly pathetic. 

I am leaving Japanese fluency to my daughter. If anyone in my family has the ability to take after my father's innate language skills, it is her. At least she knows the difference between Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji without having to Google it. 

ARANG AND THE MAGISTRATE

As you know I have a thing for ghost stories. This is a cute one.

Source

ARANG AND THE MAGISTRATE (아랑사또전; Arangsatojeon) is a 2012 South Korean series that I'm watching on HULU. It appears to be based off of a folklore about a vengeful spirit in the Joseon era refuses to cross over until she reveals the circumstances of her murder.

Chased by "ghost-busters" who take out any ghost who messes with a human, Arang stumbles across the magistrate. The one person who can actually see the dead, but wishes otherwise.

Given this is a mystery, I can't divulge much more or I'll ruin the suspense. There are only four episodes on Hulu as of the completion of this post, but I've already gotten hooked by the humor in this romantic/comedy.

The Magistrate is played by Lee Jun Ki, and the adorable but kind of scary ghost is played by one of my favorite actresses, Shin Min Ah. If she looks familiar its because she played the Ninetailed Fox in My Girlfriend is a Gumiho.

GEARING UP TO GET AN AGENT (GUTGAA) SURPRISE

I bet you're wondering about this #GUTGAA that's being bandied about the internet. Whenever I read the word, I think of some exotic dish.

In a way, that's what it is. A feast for writers who are ready to query/pitch their darling projects to agents and editors from small publishing houses.

Deana Barnhart is putting on a month long extravaganza beginning on August 31st. To participate you must first signed up HERE.

You can find the schedule of activities HERE

You can find me... yep, I'm participating in this as well. That's the surprise part of this post. I'll let you see what I'll be up to for yourself HERE.

So, get your query ready and let's get this party started!

 

WRITE ON CON AND INDEX CARDS

Geesh, when did I get so analytical?

I'm a panster. I come up with an idea, then I dreamscape it out for weeks or months until I have the first half of the book completed in my head. Next, I start writing out scenes in my handy dandy notebook, which I later transcribed into the computer.

I work in linear fashion. Each chapter connected to the one before until I get stuck. When I get jammed, I write the end of the book. This helps to clear my block so I can connect the beginning of the story to the end.

So what happened when I checked out Write On Con? I found all these wonderful events like The Index Card and Revision by author Katy Longshore and Plotting with 3×5 cards by author Kimberley Griffiths Little.

I got totally inspired. I bought some post it notes and...

Well, the rest is history.

I broke each chapter down into scenes. Some chapters have more scenes than others even though they are roughly an equal number of pages.

I also color coded the scenes. Blue are paranormal activity, yellow are romance. Orange is everything else. The problem is that I need more colors to really break it down better. There are some scenes that have paranormal and romance. Others which are action scenes. I want something for conflict, etc.

Obviously, I've gotten a little sticky note crazy.

Still, there's something gratifying about having your entire book broken down for clarity; especially, in the revision process or even if you are a panster who hates to outline (like me) this is a good way to see what you have and what you've missed.

What do you think? Is this a process you would try?

40 WEEKS OF ME- WEEK 4, Ghosts

Once upon a time, when I was five and my sister only two, our parents rented an old apartment in downtown Madrid, Spain. It was a fairly tall building because it had a balcony which sloped downward. I was terrified I would fall through the iron bars to the brick courtyard so far below.

My fear of falling stemmed from this time. Funny. I thought it came from falling off of the cliff, but it appears the roots were buried in my psyche a lot earlier.

The apartment had an aura to it. Some of you may understand what I mean.

It's as if the walls breathed.

The spirit which haunted us seemed to spend a lot of time in me and my sister's bedroom. I never felt any malignant intentions from it, but I'm pretty likeable.

My sister on the other hand told me a different story last night.

See, I was thinking about ghosts. This week has been dedicated to them...an impromptu GHOST WEEK on my blog inspired by Terri Bruce's HEREAFTER. I mentioned the ghost to my sister...she ended up describing the entity who still won't leave my mind after all these years. A tall man. Gaunt. Shadowed. Wearing a felt hat. He didn’t like her and tried to hit her with a broom. He would sit in the rocking chair. And the chair would rock, back and forth. It seemed more than just a drafty room or the tilt of the floor.

Then she said she saw this spirit in her house a few years ago.

What? Spain…U.S.A?

Oh, yeah. She said the spirit walked past her bed as she tried to fall asleep. It saw her watching and lunged at her. Arms outstretched.

She said she screamed and closed her eyes. She began to pray, terrified. And the spirit vanished.

To my sister, this wasn't a peaceful entity. It frightened her.

Was he real or a figment of our shared experiences? I don't know for sure. I do know this man exists in our memories, and now, in the memories of those who read and share this post. He will continue to exist each time his story is told long after the tellers leave this earth. Too bad he has to be such a jerk in the afterlife.