I’m proud to be British. Mine is the house with a St. George’s Day flag or with bunting strung carelessly, proudly, for every conceivable Royal celebration. I even made every guest wear Kate and Will paper masks for the Royal Wedding party I threw.
I’m British–greater still, I’m ENGLISH–and although I love America, they do and say things all wrong and are weird in so many ways. I could happily live in America, but I would never be American. That is, until I began writing my current work in progress.
Sean is an American living in Vermont. Cue dialogue challenges; everything I know about the British language suddenly had to be unlearned. Britishisms are rife throughout my first draft, from suspenders that hold up trousers (pants) rather than stockings, to sweaters and vests and purses and…dear Lord, it’s an entirely different language to learn!
If the English language made any sense, CATASTROPHE would be an apostrophe with fur. ––Doug Larson
I’m so tempted to turn Sean (spits his name) into a Brit abroad, except I’d need to also have his wife, his colleagues, the nasty antagonist, his entire story world do the same. In Vermont. No! I shall rise to the challenge and practice Americanisms and all the other isms that will eventually see this book finished.
Are you a Brit living in America? Have you retained your Britishisms? Comment below and share your stories with me.