Upon our return I began final copy edits and formatting for my most recent release Fated Desires. And the paperback cover went to print, approved by me, with an egregious error.
“…the young widower next store” instead of the accurate “…the young widower next door.” It’s vernacular, a local-ism, and embarrassing - it’s on the damn cover!
Between being called out in Jamaica for my accent and that damn phonetic typo, a friend suggested I write a blog post in Philadelphian. I thought that was a fun idea.
|This is Deb of the great idea|
It’s harder than I thought it would be. I don’t exactly recognize that I’m not pronouncing a particular word correctly. For example, did you know that
mayonnaise isn’t pronounced MAN-ASE; crayons aren't CROWNS; and spigot does not sound remotely like SPICKET - except in Philly they do.
Waz fuckin newzta me. I spell it right, I say it wrong, and I have no idea. Caus no one in Philly knows it ether. I hadda look dis shit up. No lie. And in large part thanks to