David Wilbanks is a non-serious science fiction writer, and serious gamer. He is fascinated by most things, and will usually write about them on this blog. Some obvious examples include both science and fiction (also science fiction) and of course video games. Other times he will write about things he dislikes, such as gravity, parking meters, and international treaties prohibiting further experimentation with nuclear pulse propulsion.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Obvious Ways to Ruin Your Chances of Employment
Friday, February 15, 2013
Ankara
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Review: Beowulf: The Game
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Review: Fable II
Thursday, January 3, 2013
New Year, New Country
When I first got here, I almost immediately found that the fan in my laptop had died. I struggled through the process of ordering one (I had to set up a Turkish PayPal account, in Turkish, despite the fact that I couldn’t speak a word of Turkish... It took a while). The fan then took three weeks to get here, so that’s my excuse for not posting anything for a month and a half (I know that didn't add up). So, yeah, now I’m back. Also future posts will be the usual sort, rather the unfocused babbling you’re reading now (they’ll be slightly more focused babbling).
Aside from teaching, writing and eating Adana kebabs, I’m also studying Turkish. It’s a fascinating language (note to self: add teaching and languages to list of blog topics). It’s actually read exactly as it’s written (and rarely uses diphthongs), unlike certain western languages I can think of (Okay, mostly just English). Like most languages that do that, they have more vowels (Thai has 18). They use a, e, i, o, u, (but they each only make one sound) along with Ӧ, ϋ and I (I without a dot is a different vowel than i with a dot). The Ӧ makes a “e” sound, like at the end of “hooker.” The ϋ makes a long “u” sound like at the end of “prostitute,” while the I makes an “ah” sound like at the beginning of “prostitute.”
Turkish also uses the same consonants with a few variations. C and S both also exist with a little swishy thing underneath them (I’m too lazy to scroll through a bunch of symbols again). These make the “Ch” and “Sh” sounds, respectively (Pneumonic device to remember that: Chimpanzee Shit). C inexplicably makes a J sound, and I don’t think they have a J (so if someone asks if you want “to spark up a C” you know what they mean). G comes in both standard form, and with a little curvy thingy over it. That one is silent, but extends the vowel sound. It’s a bit like the silent “gh” in English. They also don’t have a W (as in whore).
In terms of how it works, it’s basically a cross between Japanese, Latin, English and Arabic (Simple, right?). The sentence structure is pretty much the opposite of English. Objects go first, and verbs go last, and everything gets interspersed with particles (usually these particles are suffixes). This is similar to Japanese (according to Karen, who also works here, and speaks Japanese). In Turkish, the particles are usually suffixes, and can change the sentence to a question, make it negative, and probably do other stuff. Prepositions are also suffixes, and get stuck on the object. The subject technically goes before the verb, but it’s often dropped because the verbs are conjugated like in Latinate languages so the subject is often given by the verb ending, so actually saying it is superfluous.
The other tricky bit involves the suffixes (I mentioned those, right?). As in Spanish (and presumably other Latinate languages), the verb ending is partially dependent on the vowel ending with the verb. In Spanish that means -ir, -ar or (this is a word, and not a possible verb ending) -er. In Turkish, a verb can use any vowel, and each changes it to one of four possible endings. Vowel harmony (that's what one website called it) doesn't stop with verbs though. It is also applied to other suffixes, with two possible endings for prepositions. On top of that, any time you modify anything consonants may (USUALLY) change. Fortunately, lots of these are only noticable if you screw up in writing. Turkish is also a bit like English in that some tenses are normally conjugated, (I only know two, so I’m assuming a bit here), while others are just stuck with some form of the verb “to be.” In Turkish this verb is (like most things in Turkish) a suffix. In English we do that for present continuous. In Turkish, they do it with present simple.
According to one of my students (ϋmar) Turkish was originally written with Arabic writing (but spoken the same as it is now), but they switched over to their modern characters later on (This probably explains why their alphabet is so reasonable). They also retained some words from Arabic like “merhaba” (hello) and “portakal” (orange). I can’t really speak Turkish much yet, but I’m learning more and more words from my students, and I’m starting to figure out the grammar. I occasionally catch myself conjugating recreationally (that sounds dirty). I also have my iPad keyboard setup so that I can switch between English and Turkish. Oddly enough, auto-correct is actually useful for a new language. Who knew it was anything other than a scourge on humanity? I have to admit though, if you type a sentance in English on the Turkish keyboard (or vis-versa), auto-correct severely mangles it.
Thanks in part to my Turkish keyboard, I was able to acomplish a task that is a significant milestone for anyone learning a new language: I ordered a pizza (Yes, I did it online, and yes, it took me longer to order it than it took to arrive). If I keep up my current rate of improvement, I should be able to have the language mastered in just 10-12 years (ok, maybe less). So that’s all I'm saying about Turkish for now. Feel free to comment (actually, feel as though you’ve been begged for your comment). The next post will be more timely and all around better (inshalla).
Friday, November 16, 2012
An actual blog about my writing
For a writers blog, I don't post about my writing much. Which is surprising, since I'm a shameless whore when it comes to self-promotion. Today I have the pleasure of talking about a recent literary development regarding the author I love above all others (me). I just sold my novel, Twin Suns, (If you know me personally, as both of my regular readers do, you've heard about it) to Double Dragon Publishing. It will be released either late in 2013 or early in 2014. There will also be a print-on-demand option.
If you go with the print-on-demand option, I will sign it if you bring it to me. Send it, I'll sign it. Bring it to me, I'll sign it, and buy you a beer. If you go the e-book route, I can sign your kindles, iPads or breasts, if you can find a way to get them to me (actually, I may be able to work out some sort of partial reimbursement deal to offset some of the breast transportation costs. Send me a pic. We'll talk.)
So, yeah, go buy it (in a year). Please. I've got student loans and a drinking problem. I need the money, and I love my fans (most of them are my friends, or related to me). Oh, and the book is really good, too.
On a mostly unrelated note, I would like to address my less than stellar popularity (It mostly bothers me because Klout likes to interrupt shows I'm watching on Hulu to tell me about my falling score). A friend of mine does a thing where she posts a free poem every time she gains another fifty followers on twitter. She is a far better writer/internet user than me, so my expectations are much, much lower than hers.
Here's the deal. I'll post a free poem if I get five new followers on twitter, a new blog follower, or a single comment on my blog. If you post more than two comments, expect sexual favors.