The title is not a metaphor. That is really what I’ve been doing lately.
…No, I’m not THAT lonely. There’s a perfectly sensible explanation.
You see, even though I’m fluent in English and can write entire books, my English pronounciation is horrible. I might read, write and watch TV almost entirely in English, but, being born and raised in Denmark where I still live, I almost never speak English. Meaning that even though I can write a book, I sometimes struggle to get through a simple conversation.
And it’s stupid words I can’t pronounce. I have absolutely no problem saying words like ‘mischievous’ or ‘auspicious’ (words I can’t spell right on the first try), but ‘brother’ and ‘area’ makes my tongue tie itself in knots. Seriously, who struggles with area?!
It’s getting a little embarrassing (also a weird word I can say just fine!), so I figured the only way to fix the problem was to practice. And reading out loud to my owl seemed more convenient than calling up friends and forcing them to talk to me in a foreign language.
Also, it freaks out Artemis much less than when I sing to him.
So, um… does anyone have any book recommendations suitable for owls?
