Episode 52 – French Kissing Pigeons and Natasha Yim!

By Damien Newbie Writers Podcast 2 Comments on Episode 52 – French Kissing Pigeons and Natasha Yim!

Episode 52- The Newbie Writer’s Podcast

Natasha Yim

Our Guest: Young Adult Author: Natasha Yim.

Catharine’s back from holidays! What craziness abounded abroad?

Let’s find out about Natasha:
I just wanted to pass on this announcement from my publisher about my upcoming non-fiction children’s book, Sacajawea of the Shoshone, for kids 9 – 13. It tells the amazing story of the Shoshone teenager who traveled the American West with Lewis and Clark. The book will be released in October, and I’ll get an opportunity to talk more about her and writing the book at the RW October Author Launch on Oct. 14.

I’m going to be at the Green Gulch writing retreat which is hosted by the SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators)—am planning to get there by 3 so I can be all set up in time for the podcast. It’s a Zen Buddhist place so should be nice and quiet and other writers generally don’t get there till around 5 pm. But you might hear some background noise from time to time. Is that going to be a problem? Also, my book is more middle grade than YA. It’s targeted at the 9 – 13 year range. I was in Europe this summer too—Italy and Ireland, so yes, if you want to chat about that, it’d be fun.

From her site:

I was born half a world away, in the crowded, steamy city of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. My most vivid memories of that time in the 60’s are of my dad yelling out our first story apartment window to scare away a car thief who was trying to make off with our automobile; a burgler who apparently came to lighten us of some valuables, but stopped to eat a papaya from our fridge (we found a half-eaten papaya on the floor the next morning); and the ghost I saw in my bedroom one night – but that’s another story.
When I was five, we moved to Singapore, a carefully-manicured city of cleanliness and order. Under its then-ruler, Lee Kuan Yew, even chewing gum was a no-no, and men were forbidden to have long hair. It’s such a small island, one could practically spit to the opposite coast — if spitting was allowed, that is.
Then at ten, it was on again to Hong Kong. No, my dad was not in the military. He was just a roving architect. Actually, the moves were for better job opportunities and then to be closer to my mom’s family in Hong Kong. Here, I attended a very Harry-Potteresque British high school, said ‘to-mah-to’ instead of ‘to-may-to’ and thought it cool to pepper my speech with ‘Bloody Hell.’ You see, schools in Malaysia and Singapore back then were taught in English, and my mom had to decide if my education should continue in English or in my native Cantonese (which wasn’t so native anymore because of said education in English), and she finally decided that I had enough to deal with (new school, new friends, new country) without having to learn in a different language.
Much as I disliked secondary school and all the stuffy authoritative teaching attitudes, it was here in Mr. Harry’s (Yep, that was his name. I’m not making it up) First Form English class (roughly seventh grade in the American system) that I got turned on to writing. Our assignment was to create an island and make up its towns and landmarks, including mountains and rivers. It was my first experience at creating an imaginary world and it was a blast.

Bring Out Your Dead:

Charles Lee: @Goofyfan_Chuck on Twitter

The samurai he drew was dirty, and tattered, a far cry from how he and his room looked. As he was getting warmed up, he yelled from his room “Bianca! B! You awake yet?”
When he stopped yelling, the pencil he was sketching with slipped through his grasp. The black graphite pencil just lay there; Joseph pondered. “Maybe today is the day,” he uttered to himself.
Knowing his father’s side of the family had levels of telekinesis, he knew it had to be, in some form, in his genetic makeup. He was also aware that it seemed to have skipped his father, as he hoped it didn’t become recessive in him as well.
He stretched out his hand, hoping the pencil would fly from the floor, and land between his fingertips. “Come on! Get in there! Fly….” He struggled and strained; he knew that if anyone were watching, they’d laugh at the absurdity of it.
“Forget it,” he sighed to himself. “It was pointless for me to try to — come on! Here we go!” He stressed even further to let the pencil leave the floor, but to no avail. He gave up, and picked up the pencil manually.
He continued to draw his tattered samurai, occasionally yelling through the walls “Biance, are you up yet?”
Bianca lay in bed, gently dozing. Her clock radio went off, towards the end of a song. The morning deejays went into their usual schtick. Bianca yawned, then focused on the clock radio. It was a few feet from her head, but she easily pulled it towards her graceful fingers, shut off the alarm, then placed it back on the bedside table.
She then propped herself out of bed, floating a foot or two over the mattress. She took a quick glance at the room — messy, but it had seen better days — then looked at her bedsheets. She made the sheets taut, then folded them and made her bed. She her brother yelling and replied “Joey! I’m up.”

Word of the Week:

World Wide Words

Cataglottism refers to kissing using the tongue, French kissing. Albeit potentially useful, iy’s so rare that I cannot find a modern example outside lists of weird words. This is an older example, which seems to mean kissing in its general sense:
The kiss is not only an expression of feeling; it is a means of provoking it. Cataglottism is by no means confined to pigeons.
Studies in the Psychology of Sex, by Havelock Ellis, 1927.
Its Greek prefix — meaning “down”, but often with an implication of disparagement or abuse or of something inferior or unpleasant — turns up also in cataclysm, catastrophe, catafalque, and catarrh — a dispiriting set of bed-fellows for this mildly erotic term. Its second part is from Greek glottis, a variant of glossa, tongue.
As that word could also mean “throat” (and has been borrowed to provide the English medical term for the vocal cords and the space between them), you might translate the stem of cataglottism as deep throat. But let’s not go there …

Shout Outs:

Shane Jones our latest blogger.

Andrew Harding from G+ here’s some info!

My site is A Harding Books They can click on any of the book covers to take them to the Amazon page. Click on my Author page and see all my books. The Hybrid Series & The Spirit Trilogy. 5/6 of my books in the top 100 on both sides of the pond in their Genre. Graphic Books.

I’m also writing a book online, on my website. That has over 8K hits a month. It’s a new Hybrid story which grew from a few tweets with one of my follows on twitter. He Who Shall Not Be Named. Shortened down to HWSNBN and Chapter 8 has just been posted.



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  • VeronicaThePajamaThief
    Posted on September 29, 2012 at 3:04 pm

    A nice bit of causerie! I enjoyed this very much

    CATAGLOTTISM – Oooh… now there is a nice word! I love learning new words… I shall have to remember this one!

    IF you don’t already have, you should check out Jan and Hallie Leighton’s “RARE WORDS”… a ‘must’ for the writer!

  • Damien
    Posted on September 30, 2012 at 8:19 am

    Oh I’ll check that out too!

Comments are closed.

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