Blog
Post by: Kali Willows
Canadian Spelling Foibles
I’ve been writing since I was a kid in Canada. Since
the beginning of grade school, we learned our nouns, verbs, adverbs, spelling,
grammar, and so forth, according to the school curriculum and trusted we were
taught everything we needed to know for appropriate literacy. Having a dramatic
flair in my story and poetry writing, I suppose it was the natural course for
me to eventually pursue the written word in a more dedicated way.
Something I took for granted was in general,
how great I was at spelling. Now, being proficient on the laptop and more
dependent of spell check and auto correct as the years go by, it never occurred
to me, that my mastery of the English language would pose such complications
when pursuing my passion!
As an employee with the social service sector in
Canada for twenty seven years, report writing, computer proficiency and so
forth, these skills became notable assets. The further I delve into the world
of literacy and publishing, the harder I fall, with the impending realization
how Un-Canadian focused the romance/fiction literacy market really can be.
Why, after being published for almost a decade
has this become so pronounced for me, you may ask? After taking the plunge and
self-publishing for the first time in recent weeks, I came across several
potential “typos” in my print copy proof that made me pause and re-evaluate my so-called
knowledge.
Being with American publishers for ten years,
I’ve relied heavily on the skills and craftsmanship of my content and line
editors, to catch any foibles of my Canadian education, and converting my
manuscripts into perfection for the romance and fiction world. It wasn’t until
I became fully responsible for the quality of my own project being put out
there, that this reality came crashing down.
I’m sure many readers have come across the
hybrid books by renown authors across the world that have demonstrated this
very point. It’s the entire English speaking literary community that this
quandary impacts, including America, Canada and Britain.
In my search for hard-fast rules, I came across
a wonderful resource.
This chart was borrowed from http://esl.culips.com/aboutus/differences-between-canadian-and-american-spelling/
Culips
is based in Montreal, Canada and so we follow Canadian spelling rules.
Differences between
Canadian and American spelling
Did
you know that there are some differences in spelling between America, Canada
and Britain? They are small differences that do not affect the pronunciation.
Here is a list of the differences in spelling common words and the general
rules to follow.
Canadian (and British)
|
American
|
|
–RE Ending
|
–ER Ending
|
|
centre/theatre
|
center/theater
|
|
–OUR Ending
|
–OR Ending
|
|
colour/favour/behaviour/
neighbour /honour/humour
|
color/favor/behavior/neighbor/honor/humor
|
|
L is doubled in
–ED or –ING form
|
L is not doubled
in –ED or –ING form
|
|
labelled/travelled/modelled
labelling/travelling/modelling |
labeled/traveled/modeled
labeling/traveling/modeling |
Differences between Canadian and British spelling
In
some cases the Z is replaced with an S in British spelling. This is often the
case when the S/Z follows an I or Y, like in the examples below.
|
Canadian
(and American)
|
British
|
|
Z
|
S
|
|
analyze/organize/criticize
emphasize/recognize (and all variations of these word) |
analyse/organise/criticise
emphasise/recognise (and all variations of these words) |
|
Short
for mother with O
|
Short
for mother with U
|
|
mom/mommy
|
mum/mummy
|
***
Once I had a chart to reference, I didn’t feel
so bad about the frequent confusion that befuddles me in the late night rounds
of edits with an antiquated word program!
Canadian living, at it’s best.
***
Just a quick little ditty about the book that spurned this rant,
I am so pleased to share my very first, self-published, completely Canadian release,
As Angels Weep - Supernatural Penance
Available in eBook and Paperback Now!
“It’s not the time we have in life. It’s what we do with it & the impact we have on others.
That is our true legacy.”
Kali Willows
What Critics are saying
as angels weep-supernatural penance - "Tumultuous,
passionate & exhilarating." - Author, Kacey Hammell
"As
Angels Weep charms its reader with a tarnished hero they come to cheer for. His
tumultuous journey is thrilling & exciting." - Author, Kacey Hammell
Blurb:
A
smooth talker with the ladies, Luther Evans has all the right moves and all the
wrong motives. Swindling wealthy women and making shady business deals, he
strings along his girlfriend with promises of commitment and a flashy diamond
engagement ring, despite his playboy antics. Karma cashes
in when he gets an outrageous wakeup call from a messenger of death. Soon
after, he’s plagued by a bizarre string of deadly accidents he narrowly escapes
until the final incident. His narcissistic ways must suddenly change—when he
dies! Faced with the prospect of spiritual exile, our hero finds himself on an
urgent mission to save his soul.
Matched with his ethereal guide, Gabrielle, a
disinclined archangel who is a bit of a prankster, Luther faces temptation and
obstacles no mere mortal can overcome. On this perilous journey for his pursuit
of salvation, she tries to teach him the value of humanity. Will Luther strike
out and lose his soul on the road to redemption? Can Gabrielle save him from
eternal damnation despite the forces that try to stop them?
Preface
Penance was inconsequential to me once upon a time. For the first time
in my life, it means everything. My soul depends on it. For years, I swindled
wealthy women, made shady business deals that caused harm to others. In just
seven days, I face spiritual exile. Doomed to purgatory for my past deeds and
failure to live my humanity. My one chance at salvation? I have one assignment
to complete, with rules, very strict rules, and unspeakable consequences if I
fail. Whoever said good guys finish last was sadly mistaken. I'd never been a
good guy. Now, I have to be one if I want redemption.
Excerpt:
Is this night ever gonna end?
“Sooner than you think,” a woman’s whisper filled his ear.
Luther spun, but the hallway was empty. Great, he could add a little auditory hallucination to
top the evening off. The phone buzzed in his hand again.
Sorry, buddy, Beth’s home so you can’t come here tonight. Jazz told her everything. She’s pissed off. You should stay at the Plaza. Let me know
when you get there, I’ll pop over.
“Perfect,” he grumbled.
No way would he go back to the house
tonight, not while she packed to leave. He didn’t want to deal with the
aftermath. Getting out
of pinches was his forte, not facing them.
To go to his father’s was out of the
question. Even if Jasmine hadn’t already told him everything, the need to
explain why he
had to crash overnight held no appeal and no reprieve for Luther.
Marvin was right. The Plaza seemed like the only viable
solution.
Sure, I’ll head there. Should be a half hour or so. Gonna have a bite to eat and hit the sack. I’m wiped out. Luther finished the text then tucked his phone into
his coat and took his keys out. He pressed the elevator button with a heavy
sigh.
The clanking metal door dragged open
with an irksome ding. Empty. At least he didn’t have to paint on a smile. He
inched into the grimy box and pressed P5. A bed
was all he needed tonight, and no people to mingle with. The door scraped along
the frame as it closed then got stuck only six inches before shutting.
“Gimme a break.” He
shoved his hand through to push it open. Immovable, the cold metal resisted.
Anger flooded him, and
he kicked the door while wrestling it back and forth, trying to get it to move.
Without warning, the elevator door slammed shut. He yanked his hand back in the
nick of time, saving his fingers from getting crushed. Luther’s chest pounded,
and a rush of sweat covered his forehead.
“That was close.” A
sharp jolt shook the elevator. Rattling sounded overhead, like a loose cable. The air grew thick.
He couldn’t breathe. Am I about to meet my maker? He snagged at the collar of his shirt then clicked the
button again and again for the main floor, but the death trap door didn’t
budge. He stilled, terrified to shift in case something broke in the
dilapidated wreck.
The quiet besieged him and rang in his ears. He waited, his
pulse raced, his heartbeat thrummed behind his ears.
Luther sidestepped slowly
to the console. He pushed
the open button once again. It still didn’t work. “I can’t believe this,” he
hissed. Pins and needles filled his toes, traveling up his legs, followed by a
prickling along his skin.
Desperation mounted and he pressed every button on the board,
hoping something would free him. Then, a grinding sound, followed by the sudden
plummeting, and his stomach bottomed out with the weightlessness.
No! The elevator plunged downward. Images flashed through
his mind and words filled his head: If you wrong another person, you will
die.
Is my nightmare crossing into reality?
With a frightful jerk, the elevator
stopped and the door slid open. Stunned, he fixed his stare at the number P5, glowing above him. Luther bolted out of the elevator,
and the door eased closed behind him with the tactless chime sounding again.
Speechless, even in his own mind, he fumbled with his keys and
pressed the alarm button, triggering piercing chirps and flashing lights down
at the end of the row. The commotion revealed his car in the sea of metal and
wheels. Clicking the alarm off, he walked down the concrete path to the respite
of his trusty BMW.
The sudden screech of tires ricocheted throughout the lot. It
grew louder and closer as he walked the length of the parking garage. Luther
spied the fast approaching car and jumped out of the path of the oncoming
vehicle. The car full of teens sped away, with only the bass of blaring music
sounding with rhythmic thuds, muffled by the closed windows.
Great. On top of the rest of the night,
I’m paranoid, too.
Weariness washed over him. He reached his silver car and climbed in.
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