Extremely Important!

When posting your homework in the forum, please also copy and paste the original homework instruction.

Be sure to put your grade number in the writing title!

Every week, each student should only post one writing (the revised or the new assignment) to guarantee writing quality. Editing priority goes to the original writings. Revised writing should be posted in the original writing thread.

To make our students more comfortable, our class has been meeting from 9:10 pm to 10:50 pm on Friday (U.S. Eastern Time) since Nov. 13, 2015. Thank you!

To make our classes better, we have been using ZOOM online meeting platform since Nov. 13, 2015. The Class Link (long-term) for Grades 5 and 6 is: https://zoom.us/j/589608631

Dr Joe Copyright

All enrolled students who have not registered for a forum account yet need to email the following information as soon as possible to DrJoeWriting@gmail.com  1. The student's class name (which

should not be changed and will be used as your forum username)

2. The student's grade level 3. Your email used to receive class

PowerPoint slides and recording

DrJoeWriting.Com Forum ID Registration

Once we get the above information of yours, we will email you a temporary password. Please immediately log in to our new forum http://drjoewriting.com/forum1/?q=forum with your username and temporary password. After you log in, you can find a link called "My account" on top of the page. Click the "My account" link and you will get to your account info page. On your account info page, click the "Edit" tab so you can change your password. Then you can start posting your homework assignments or free writings on our new forum.

When you post your homework in the forum, please also copy and paste the original homework instruction (which includes title, word limit, due date, etc.). This will make the editing and commenting easier.

Our student PoPo has won the Top Group in the PolarExpressions National Short Story Writing Contest, and her winning story "When Robbie Moved In" was published in a book titled "The Chance" in December 2015.

Congratulations, PoPo! We are proud of you!

Dr. Joe’s Writing-Reading Classes

I Write, I Read, I Love.

Jan. 8, 2016

Please don’t share class recordings and slides with other people.

Please don’t change your class name. This can cause confusion and waste class time.

I tell you what to do and how to do; you do the DO part!

Review and exercise, review and exercise! No big deal, but also terribly big deal!

Please start posting your writings on our new forum NOW! The new forum web address is: http://drjoewriting.com/forum1/?q=forum

The old web site http://englishwritingschool.com and its forum will remain as the backup.

Please post your homework assignments, questions and comments on the forum. Email me only about issues that are not proper for forum discussion.

When you post your writing on the forum, make your title like this: “Grade Number - Writing Title.” For example, you are in grade 6 and the title is “I Like Books.” Then you type “Grade 6 – I Like Books” in the title area.

To enhance class efficiency and class dynamics, we will have more in-class ask-and-answer exercises other than student reading. The students will all be put on the mic line, but the answering and discussing sequence will be random. This will make the students stay alert during the class time and thus improve the class efficiency and effectiveness.

So don’t play games or websurf before the break—you might get caught off guard!

I. Quiz Time

Rules: After each question, the answer will be disclosed, so please record your rights and wrongs for final result. Every multiple-choice question has only one correct answer. Each blank in a fill-in-blank question needs to be filled with one word, more than one word, or part of a word .

Question 1:

The Ear, the Eye, and the ___ was by Nancy Farmer.

Question 1:

The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm was by Nancy Farmer.

Question 2:

iridescence [_____ change in different ____]

Question 2:

iridescence [color change in different lights]

Question 3:

sodden [very ___ and _____]

Question 3:

sodden [very wet and heavy]

Question 4:

"Do you come from the Hereafter [the world beyond the ____]?"

Question 4:

"Do you come from the Hereafter [the world beyond the Abarat]?"

Question 5:

melancholy [very ___ or making you feel _______]

Question 5:

melancholy [very sad or making you feel sadness]

II. Dr. Joe’s Reflection

I know of no way of judging the future but by the past.

---- Patrick Henry

Patrick Henry (May 29, 1736 – June 6, 1799) was an American attorney, planter and politician who became known as an orator during the movement for independence in Virginia in the 1770s. A Founding Father, he served as the first and sixth post-colonial Governor of Virginia, from 1776 to 1779 and from 1784 to 1786.

I know of no way of judging the future but by the past. ---- Patrick Henry

Dr. Joe’s ReflectionExperience matters.

Write a short paragraph of a lesson you learned from past using this quote. 100 words maximum.

Leo “I know of no way of judging the future but by the past.” These words rang in Jack’s ears as he trudged out of the office after a heavy reprimanding and tongue-lashing by the principal, who had an exceptionally sharp tongue. As he stepped down the stairs, the step in front of him jumped. He dropped his cup. The principal’s words were true. He had dropped his 7th cup – and had made the step jump more. Wait, he thought. Steps don’t move. He fiercely stomped on the step. A boom and a long rally of offensive words came next. Under the heavy brick a green arm waved back and forth. Then the arm disintegrated into shining diamonds – identical to the gems on his mom’s rings. He picked them up and slowly walked home.[discussed]

PokemonI have know of no way of judging the future but the past. Don't let your head go down. The kid next to you who is good at math has been in this class for over four years. Remember this "Experience matters.” [You should add how hard the kid has been working on math to make it a clear lesson. This is a lesson you learned so the person is not right. These should be the words your teacher has told you. Quotation marks and your response are needed.] [done]

Tater“I know of no way of judging the future but by the past.” huh? Well, I might have to say it’s true. But what if it's not? Like if there’s no way around it! [No way around what? Confusing!] What if some random guy just experienced a somebody who choked when he ate? Does he the random guy just not eat for ever? [This logic is weak. The random guy can definitely learn the lesson by eating carefully without quitting food.] [The whole writing didn’t follow the requirement to summarize a lesson. The changed direction of argument is also not right.] [done]

JustinWhen I just started playing chess, I fell for the four move check mate, which means I lose lost in 4 four moves which is terrible. [Great to explain the term.] "I know of no way of judging the future but by the past," ---- said Patrick Henry. I learned my lesson sand and never fell for it ever again. [Short but smooth reasoning. Just need to add some actions, expressions, or scenes.] [done]

I messed uip

III. Vocabulary and Word Collocation

eq‧ua‧ble / ˈekwəb ə l / adjective 1 formal someone who is equable remains

calm and happy and does not often get annoyed : a young man with a naturally equable temperament

Write a sentence with this meaning of equable. T [done]HESAURUS HESAURUS

2 technical equable weather is neither too hot nor too cold SYN temperate : a place with a pleasant, equable climate

Write a sentence with this meaning of equable. [done]HESAURUS

IV. Student Writing Analysis What? I wrote this? I can’t believe my eyes!

---- The Student

Yes, you did it. Do you have the courage to read it again? But you have to because you have no choice!

---- Dr. Joe

Write about a strange thing in your life (it’d better be real but can be imaginary). 300 words maximum. [discussion done]

The Original

I get Déjà vu, a lot, to the point where it seems very scary and strange. If you are wondering what is Déjà vu? It is a very strong feeling that the current event has been seen or done by you in the past, it already sounds scary, but it is quite normal actually. But I get it a little too much I think. At least nine times a week, about zero to two occurrences a day. I don’t think it should be this much, or maybe it is a placebo, where I think I am having it but I am not, but that is still very odd.

I have asked friends but they say they don’t get it as often as I do. I also asked them if they got jamais vu, which is the strong feeling that the current event has happened before despite it being very unfamiliar, but turns out they didn’t even know what it was, I just thought maybe I was receiving jamias vu half the time but I can’t guarantee, but I would be more comfortable that way.

It does not occur every week though, it happens one to two weeks apart, or sometime continuous, or it continues half way and wears out. I find this very strange. It happens everywhere, I have had it happen, or so I thought, many times while I my dad’s car, at home, and even at school! Once I just walked out of the school yard, and I saw people walking past me and towards me had the exact coloured jackets as the people about four days ago! They even walked on the same side of the side walk, their faces also seemed very familiar.

This is something strange in my life- overload of Déjà vu occurrences, and hopefully this stops. For the time being I guess I’ll have to deal with it.

The Revision

I get déjà vu, a lot, to the point where it seems very scary and strange. If you are wondering what is déjà vu? It is a very strong feeling that the current event has been seen or done by you in the past. [Avoid super long sentence.] It already sounds scary, but it is quite normal actually. But I get it a little too much I think. At least nine times a week, about zero to two occurrences a day. I don’t think it should be this much, or maybe it is a placebo [Do you mean the medicine for your psychological benefit rather than physiological effect? If so, what is the relationship between your déjà vu and the placebo you mentioned? It is quite puzzling.], where which I think I am having it but I am not, but that is still very odd.[Since you started the writing with a length like this, you should have presented a short example of déjà vu so the reader could at least have a basically clear idea about the topic.]

I have asked friends but they say they don’t get it as often as I do. I also asked them if they got jamais vu, which is the strong feeling that the current event has happened before despite it being very unfamiliar, but turned out they didn’t even know what it was. [You should AVOID super long sentence in case it HURTS YOUR WRITING SCORE BADLY, at school or in a contest!] I just thought maybe I was receiving jamais vu half the time [Half the "what time"?] but I can’t guarantee, but I would be more comfortable that way.

It does not occur every week though, but it happens one to two weeks apart, or sometime continuous, or it continues half way and wears out. I find this very strange. It happens everywhere—or so I thought—many times while I'm in my dad’s car, at home, and even at school! Once I just walked out of the school yard, and I saw people walking past me and towards me had the exactly same-coloured jackets as the people about four days ago! They even walked on the same side of the side walk, [Be careful of comma splice!] and their faces also seemed very familiar.

This is something strange in my life—overload of déjà vu occurrences, and hopefully this stops. For the time being I guess I’ll have to deal with it.

Dear Student,

Thank you for attaching the instruction, but please do it in the writing text area. The title area should show your grade number and title.   This kind of psychological writing is a huge challenge for your age, which I don't suggest you touch in a homework or writing contest. The knowledge is beyond your peers' understanding and the topic can be even boring for your teachers at school or confusing for the editors in the media. For you, writing some engaging real-life stories (no matter whether you lived them or heard them or imagined them) is always the best option, instead of chewing the dry concept.

With all these said, I still appreciate your effort of trying the hard side of the job.  

Dr. Joe    

V. Idiom and Proverb Exercise

cold fish A heartless individual; a person lacking empathy and emotion.

collect dust To remain untouched and unused for a long period of time.

Write an emperor’s short story including the above idioms. No more than 100 words. The wording can be changed slightly when necessary. Class discussion will be made.

PokemonHey Biff, I heard that the emperor is a cold fish. Lots of people think he doesn't care about anyone else. Plus, my birthday I gave him is just collecting dust.[done]

GraceThe emperor was a cold fish. Everything his people gave to him meant nothing to him. They sat on his shelf collecting dust.[done]

Start from next slide Jan 15 2016.

Awriter"Silence!" Emperor William commanded at the long dining table. "The family heirloom is collecting dust.""You mean the traditional wedding ring?" the smallest of the Williams blurted out."Yes" He inclined his head towards his daughter, Vanessa. "When Vanessa turns 18 next month, the finest suitors from the country will compete in a jousting cometition. Whoever wins will be Vanessa's husband."Vanessa Williams was a coldfish. Not only did her dad appoint her to be marryed to some random stranger, she would not be able to marry her true love, Vlad. Vlad was a farmer's son. Obviously, he would not qualify to be a suitor. This night, Vanessa climbed down fromthe tower of her bedroom, and lowered herself to the castle grounds.[122 words]TO BE CONTINUED...

Jay emperor is such a cold fish, he don’t think anybody ever give him any good thing on his birthday, so he started collecting dusts [24 words]

CindyThere once was an emperor called Emperor Chris. He was a real cold fish! He always taxed the poor people and if they don't have the money they have to give the person who collects the tax all the things you have. One day a citizen named Trevon heard a person say that there was an collect dust that the emperor's ancestor didn't ever use, and it's worth 10,000 dollars. So, Trevon waited until night to steal the collect dust. He went past the and stealed it. So he took it and selled. After that he became the richest man in the country. [103 words]

John Huang : The emperor's treasures at the back of the room started to collect dust. Every one in the kingdom thought of the emperor as a cold fish. He didn't care about anyone except for himself. In reality, he sometimes didn't even care about himself! He only cared about how wealthy he was and what meals he recieved.[56 words]

Justin Wang : Long ago, there was a very greeding and selfish emperor. According to the guards of his palace, there are thousands of gold and silver that collected dust. But as the emperor got wealthier, the citizens went into poverty. Then one day the citizens decided to rebel against the mean old cold fish and over threw the emperor. [57 words]

Daniel Xu : The emperor is a cold fish. He leaves his treasures to collect dust while his citizen's starve. He does not care about anyone. He just sits in his throne and eats all day. The people who are really in control are the generals of the army. They are even worse than the Emperor, they extort money from the poor and they are very rich. One day, the generals were planning to kill the emperor but one of the generals told the emperor and he escaped. The End [85 words]

Leo Valdez ∆ ∞ Ω ∞ ∆ : The emperor is collecting dust- he is dead! He is a cold fish because he is dead too so his heart is cold!

The assassin crept through the streets of Rome, searching for the emperor's palace. He approached the Temple of Jupiter, its splendid doors thrust open with two amphoras collecting dust and two statues flanking the entrance, staring angrily at him, as if he were some cold fish off to kill the noble emperor, though the situation was quite the opposite. He crept through and threw his knife at the emperor. He missed and the knife thudded into a pillar and stood there, quivering. Then the spy was taken and killed in the Colosseum. [115]

Roch : The emperor was a cold fish , he starved his men and kept all the food for himself. A few years later, he caught dust since his men abandoned him [30 words]

VI. Reading, Writing, Critique

Clive Barker (born 5 October 1952) is an English writer, film director, and visual artist best known for his work in both fantasy and horror fiction. Barker came to prominence in the mid-1980s with a series of short stories known as the Books of Blood which established him as a leading young horror writer. He has since written many novels and other works, and his fiction has been adapted into films, notably the Hellraiser and Candyman series. He was the Executive Producer of the film Gods and Monsters, which won an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay.

Book to Be Discussed

Abarat by Clive Barker (Author, Illustrator)

Publisher: HarperCollinsPublication date: 1 September 2002Pages: 418

Overview of Abarat Abarat (2002) is a fantasy novel written and illustrated by

Clive Barker, the first in Barker's The Books of Abarat series. It is aimed primarily at young adults. The eponymous Abarat is a fictional archipelago which is the setting for the majority of the story.

Abarat focuses on Candy Quackenbush, a teenage girl frustrated with her life in Chickentown, Minnesota. After an argument with her teacher over a school project, Candy leaves the school and goes to the edge of town, where she sees the remains of a lighthouse. She then encounters a master thief named John Mischief, whose brothers live on his horns. Because he is pursued by a sinister creature named Mendelson Shape, Mischief sends Candy to light the lamp in the lighthouse, which summons an ocean known as the Sea of Izabella from a parallel world. After giving her a key to protect and extinguishing the light, Mischief and Candy ride the seas to Abarat. A group of creatures carry them to a nearby island where Candy is separated from him.

On the island, Candy learns that the Abarat consists of twenty-five islands, each occupying a different hour of the day, and was formerly connected to Candy's world before the harbour's destruction by Abaratian authorities. Thereafter the story follows her adventures as she discovers the crises affecting the Abarat, and gains intimations that she may be destined to conclude these. The story also introduces her chief antagonists: the sorcerer known as Christopher Carrion, his grandmother Mater Motley, and the industrialist Rojo Pixler, all of whom seek to dominate the Abarat.

a passage from Abarat

by Clive Barker

[Stop here on Nov. 6, 2015; writing discussion starts from next slide on Nov. 20, 2015.]

Chapter ThirteenIn the Great Head

Candy had always prided herself upon having a vivid imagination. When, for instance, she privately compared her dreams with those her brothers described over the breakfast table, or her friends at school exchanged at break, she always discovered her own night visions were a lot wilder and weirder than anybody else's. But there was nothing she could remember dreaming -- by day or night -- that came close to the sight that greeted her in The Great Head of the Yebba Dim Day.

Yebba Dim Day: An island representing 8:00 p.m. This island, also known as the Great Head, is a sort of "informal capital" of the islands.

It was a city, a city built from the litter of the sea. The street beneath her feet was made from timbers that had clearly been in the water for a long time, and the walls were lined with barnacle-encrusted stone. There were three columns supporting the roof, made of coral fragments cemented together. They were buzzing hives of life unto themselves; their elaborately constructed walls pierced with dozens of windows, from which light poured.

There were three main streets that wound up and around these coral hives, and they were all lined with habitations and thronged with the Yebba Dim Day's citizens.

barnacle / bɑrnəkəl/ noun [ countable ] a small sea animal with a hard shell that sticks firmly to rocks and the bottom of boats

encrust: cover (sth) with a hard surface layer

throng: fill (a place)

As far as Candy could see there were plenty of people who resembled folks she might have expected to see on the streets of Chickentown, give or take a sartorial detail: a hat, a coat, a wooden snout. But for every one person that looked perfectly human, there were two who looked perfectly other than human. The children of a thousand marriages between humankind and the great bestiary of the Abarat were abroad on the streets of the city.

sartorial: relating to clothes; bestiary: an array of real humans or literary characters often having symbolic significance

Among those who passed her as she ventured up the street were creatures which seemed related to fish, to birds, to cats and dogs and lions and toads. And those were just the species she recognized. There were many more she did not; forms of face that her dream-life had never come near to showing her. Though she was cold, she didn't care. Though she was weary to her marrow [the soft fatty stuff in the bones], and lost -- oh so very lost -- she didn't care. This was a New World rising before her, and it was filled with every kind of diversity.

A beautiful woman walked by wearing a hat like an aquarium [a glass-sided tank in which fish or other water animals or plants are kept]. In it was a large fish whose poignant [painfully affecting the feelings] expression bore an uncanny [strange and hard to explain] resemblance to the woman on whose head it was balanced. A man half Candy's size ran by with a second man half the first fellow's size sitting in the hood of his robe, throwing nuts into the air. A creature with red ladders for legs was stalking its way through the crowd farther up the street, its enormous coxcomb [the crest of a domestic cock] bright orange. A cloud of blue smoke blew by, and as it passed a foggy face appeared in the cloud and smiled at Candy before the wind dispersed it.

Everywhere she looked there was something to amaze. Besides the citizens there were countless animals in the city, wild and domesticated. White-faced monkeys, like troupes of clowns, were on the roofs baring their scarlet bottoms to passersby. Beasts the size of chinchillas [a small South American rodent] but resembling golden lions ran back and forth along the power cables looped between the houses, while a snake, pure white but for its turquoise [greenish-blue] eyes, wove cunningly [cleverly, skillfully] between the feet of the crowd, chattering like an excited parrot. To her left a thing that might have had a lobster for a mother and Picasso for a father was clinging to a wall, drawing a flattering self-portrait on the white plaster with a stick of charcoal. To her right a man with a firebrand [a piece of burning wood] was trying to persuade a cow with an infestation [existence of many insects causing damage] of yellow grasshoppers leaping over its body to get out of his house.

The grasshoppers weren't the only insects in the city. Far from it. The air was filled with buzzing life. High overhead birds dined on clouds of mites [mite: a very small creature like a spider] that blazed [burn brightly and strongly] like pinpricks [a very small area of sth, especially light] of fire. Butterflies the size of Candy’s hand moved just above the heads of the crowd, and now and then alighted [land] on a favored head, as though it were a flower. Some were transparent, their veins running with brilliant blue blood. Others were fleshy and fat; these the preferred food of a creature that was a decadently [having low standards] designed as a peacock, its body vestigial [remaining as the last small part of sth that used to exist], its tail vast, painted with colors for which Candy had no name.

[stop Nov 27]

And on all sides -- among these astonishments -- were things that were absurdly recognizable. Televisions were on in many of the houses, their screens visible through undraped [not covered with cloth] windows. A cartoon boy was tap-dancing on one screen, singing some sentimental song on another, and on a third a number of wrestlers fought: humans matched with enormous striped insects that looked thoroughly bored with the proceedings. There was much else that Candy recognized. The smell of burned meat and spilled beer. The sound of boys fighting. Laughter, like any other laughter. Tears, like any other tears.

To her amazement, she heard English spoken everywhere, though there were dozens of dialects. And of course the mouth parts that delivered the words also went some way to shape the nature of the English that was being spoken: some of it was high and nasal, a singsong [a singsong voice keeps rising and falling] variation that almost seemed about to become music. From other directions came a guttural [guttural: formed or pronounced in the throat] version that descended at times into [descend into: reach (an undesirable state)] growls [growl: a low, harsh sound] and yappings [yapping: a sharp, high-pitched bark].

All this, and she had advanced perhaps fifty yards in the Yebba Dim Day.

The houses at the lower end of The Great Head, where she was presently walking, were all red, their fronts bowed. She quickly grasped why. They were made of boats, or the remains of boats. To judge by the nets that were hung as makeshift doors, the occupants of these houses were the families of fishermen who'd settled here. They'd dragged their vessels out of the cool evening air, and taken a hammer and crowbar to the cabins and the deck and hold [hold: a large space in the lower part of a ship in which cargo is saved], peeling apart the boards, so as to make some kind of habitation on land. There was no order to any of this; people just seemed to take whatever space was available. How else to explain the chaotic arrangement of vessels, one on top of the other?

As for power, it seemed to be nakedly [nakedly: openly] stolen from those higher up in the city (and therefore, presumably, more wealthy). Cables ran down the walls, entering houses and exiting again, to provide service for the next house.

It was not a foolproof [foolproof: incapable of going wrong] system by any means. At any one moment, looking up at the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of heaped-up houses, somebody's lights were flickering, or there was an argument going on about the cables. No doubt the presence of monkeys and birds, pecking at the cables, or simply swinging from them, did not improve matters.

It was a wonder, Candy thought, that this outlandish [outlandish: bizarre] collection of people, animals and habitations worked at all. She could not imagine the people of Chickentown putting up with such chaotic diversity. What would they think of the ladder-legged creature or the smoke creature, or the baby beast throwing nuts in the air? [stop Dec 4]

I need to remember as many details as I can, so when I get back home I can tell everybody what it was like, down to the last brick, the last butterfly. I wonder, she thought to herself, if they make cameras here? If they have televisions, she reasoned, then surely they have cameras.

Of course she'd first have to find out if the few soaked and screwed-up dollars she had in the bottom of her pocket were worth anything here. If they were, and she could find somewhere to purchase a camera, then she could make a proper record of what she was seeing. Then she'd have proof, absolute proof that this place, with all its wonders, existed.

"Are you cold?"The woman who had addressed her looked as though she might

have some Sea-Skipper in her heritage. Vestigial gills ran from the lower half of her cheek into her neck, and there was a faintly mottled [marked with shapes of different colors] quality to her skin. Her eyes had a subtle cast of silver about them.

"Actually I am a little," Candy said."Come with me. I'm Izarith.""I'm Candy Quackenbush. I'm new here.""Yes, I could tell," Izarith said. "It's cold today; the water gets up

through the stones. One day this place is just going to rot and collapse on itself."

"That would be a pity," Candy said."You don't live here," Izarith said, with a trace of bitterness.She led Candy to one of the houses made from fishing boats. As she

followed the woman to the threshold, Candy felt just a little pang [a sudden sharp pain] of doubt. Why was she being invited into Izarith's house so quickly, without any real reason, beyond that of a stranger's generosity?

Izarith seemed to sense her unease. "Don't come in if you don't want to," she said. "I just thought you looked in need of a fire to warm you through."

Before Candy could reply there was a series of crashes from outside the Head, accompanied by a din [a loud, unpleasant, and prolonged noise] of yells and screams.

"The dock!" Candy said, looking back toward the door.Obviously the jetty [a landing stage or small pier at which boats can

dock] had finally given out [give out: be completely used up] beneath the weight of the crowd. There was a great rush of people out to see the calamity, which was of course only going to make matters worse out there. Izarith showed no desire to go and see what had happened. She just said: "Are you coming?"

"Yes," said Candy, offering the woman a smile of thanks and following her inside. Just as Izarith had promised there was a fire in the little hearth, which the woman fuelled with a handful of what looked like dried seaweed. The kindling [small sticks or twigs used for lighting fires] was consumed quickly and brightly. A soothing wave of warmth hit Candy. "Oh, that's nice," she said, warming her hands. [stop Dec 11]

On the floor in front of the fire was a child of perhaps two, her features one generation further removed from the sea-dwelling origins of her grandparents, or perhaps her great-great-grandparents.

"This is Maiza. Maiza, this is Candy. Say hello.""Hell. O," said Maiza.With her duty to courtesy done, Maiza returned to playing with her toys,

which were little more than painted blocks of wood. One of them was a boat, painted red; a crude copy, perhaps, of the vessel whose boards had built these walls.

Izarith went to check on the other child in the room; a baby, asleep in a cot [a small bed].

"That's Nazré," she said. "He's been sick since we came here. He was born at sea, and I believe he wants to go back there."

She bent low, talking softly to the baby."That's what you want, isn't it, darling? You want to be out away from here.""You want that too?" Candy said."With all my heart. I hate this place.""Can't you leave?"

Izarith shook her head. "My husband, Ruthus, had a boat, and we used to fish around the Outer Islands, where the shoals are still good. [shoal: a sandbank or sandbar that makes water shallow] But the boat was getting old. So we came here to trade it in for a new one. We had some money from the season's fishing and we thought we'd be able to get a good boat. But there were no new boats to be had. Nobody’s building anymore. And now we're almost out of money. So my husband's working putting in toilets for the folks in the towers, and I'm stuck down here with the children."

As she told her tale, she pulled back a makeshift curtain which divided the little room in two and, sorting through a box of garments, she selected a simple dress, which she gave to Candy.

"Here," she said. "Put this on. If you wear those wet clothes much longer you'll get phlegmatic." [phlegmatic: calm and not easily excited or worried]

Gratefully, Candy put it on, feeling secretly ashamed of her initial suspicion. Izarith obviously had a good heart. She had very little to share, but what she had, she was offering.

"It suits you," Izarith said, as Candy tied a simple rope belt around her waist. The fabric of the dress was brown, but it had a subtle iridescence [color change in different lights] to it; a hint of blue and silver in its weave. "What's the currency here?" Candy asked. Plainly Izarith was surprised by the question; understandably so. But she answered anyway. "It's a zem," she said. "Or a paterzem, which is a hundred zem note." "Oh." "Why do you ask this question?" Candy dug in the pocket of her jeans. "It's just that I have some dollars," she said. "You have dollars?" Izarith replied, her mouth wide in astonishment. "Yes. A few." Candy pulled the sodden [very wet and heavy] notes out and carefully spread them on the hearth, where they steamed in front of the fire.

Izarith's eyes didn't leave the bills from the moment they appeared. It was almost as though she was witnessing a miracle.

"Where did you get those ?" she said, her voice breathless with astonishment. Finally she tore [tear: take] her gaze [gaze: a steady intent look] from the hearth [hearth: the floor of a fireplace] and looked up at Candy.

"Wait," she said. "Is it possible?""Is what possible?""Do you come from the Hereafter [the world beyond the Abarat]?"Candy nodded. "Actually I come from a place called America.""America." Izarith spoke the word like a prayer. "You have dollars, and

you come from America." She shook her head in disbelief.Candy went down on her haunches [haunch: the top of the legs and

buttocks] before the fire and peeled the now almost dried dollars off the hearth. "Here," she said, offering them to Izarith. "You have them."

Izarith shook her head, her expression one of religious awe. "No, no I couldn't. Not dollars. Angels use dollars, not Skizmut like me." "Take it from me," Candy said. "I'm not an angel. Very far from it. And what's a Skizmut?"[Skizmut: underwater people, e.g. Izarith] "My people are Skizmut. Or they were, generations ago. The bloodline's been diluted, over the years. You have to go back to my great-grandfather for a pure Skizmut." She looked melancholy [very sad or making you feel sadness]; an expression which suited the form of her face better than any other. "Why so sad?" "I just wish I could go back into the deeps [the seas] and make my home there, away from all this.“ [Jan 1 2016]

Start from next slide Jan 15 2016.

Izarith cast her sad eyes toward the window, which was without frames or panes. The crowd outside moved like a relentless [continuing without becoming weaker, less severe, etc.] parade. Candy could see how hard it would be to exist in this tiny hovel [a small, poorly built and often dirty house], with the twilight [strange and mysterious] throng [a crowd of people] moving up and down the street outside, all the hours that God sent.

"When you say the deeps," Candy replied, "do you mean the sea?""Yes. Mama Izabella. [The Sea of Izabella, sometimes called Mother

Izabella or Mama Izabella, is the sea that surrounds the Islands of the Abarat.] The Skizmut had cities down there. Deep in the ocean. Beautiful cities made of white stone."

"Have you ever seen them?""No, of course not. After two generations, you lose the way of the fish.

I would drown, like you.""So what can you do?"

"Live on a boat, as close as we can to the deeps. Live with the rhythm of Mother Izabella beneath us." "Well, perhaps the dollars will help you and Ruthus buy a boat," Candy said. Candy handed Izarith a ten and one single, keeping six for herself. Izarith laughed out loud, the music in her laughter so infectious that her daughter, Maiza, started laughing too. "Eleven dollars? Eleven. It would buy two boats! Three boats! It's like eleven paterzem! More, I think!" She looked up, suddenly anxious. "And this is really for me?" she said, as though she was afraid the gift would be reclaimed. "It's all yours," Candy said, feeling a little odd about sounding too magnanimous [having or showing a generous and kind nature]. After all, it was only eleven bucks.

"I'm going to spend a little piece of this one," Izarith said, selecting a single, and pocketing the rest. "I'm going to buy some food. The children haven't eaten this day. I think you haven't either." Her eyes were shining; their joy increased by the silvery luster [a glow of reflected light] that was the gift of her Skizmut breeding. "Will you stay with them, while I go out?" she said.

"Of course," Candy said. She suddenly realized she was starving.

"And Maiza?""Yes, Muma?""Will you be kind to the lady from the Hereafter, while I

fetch bread and milk?"

"Grish fritters!" said Maiza."Is that what you want? Grish fritters [fritter: a piece of

fruit, meat or vegetable that is covered with a mixture of eggs, milk and flour and fried] with noga seeds?"

"Grish fritter with noga seeds! Grish fritter with noga seeds!"

"I won't be long," Izarith said."We'll be fine," Candy said, sitting down beside the child

in front of the fire. "Won't we, Maiza?"The child smiled again, her tiny teeth semitranslucent

[allowing light to pass through partly], carrying a hint of blue. "Grish fritters with noga seeds!" she said. "All for me!"[END of Excerpt]

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VII. Recommended Author and Book

Howard Pyle (March 5, 1853 – November 9, 1911) was an American illustrator and author, primarily of books for young people. A native of Wilmington, Delaware, he spent the last year of his life in Florence, Italy.

Today’s Book

The Story of King Arthur and His Knightsby Howard Pyle

Publisher: SignetPublication date: September 5, 2006(Centennial Edition)Pages: 416Age: 10 and up

Overview of The Story of King Arthur and His Knights

In these wonderfully illustrated tales, renowned storyteller Howard Pyle carries us back to the enchanting world of King Arthur and his Round Table. The book chronicles the adventures of Arthur as he draws the sword Excalibur from the anvil, proving his right to the throne, and as he courts and wins the heart of Guinevere. Later he suffers the treachery of the wicked Morgana le Fay and witnesses the tragic fate of the Enchanter Merlin. [chronicle: describe events in the order in which they happened; Excalibur: name of the sword belonging to King Arthur; anvil: heavy iron block on which hot metal is shaped; treachery: harming someone who trusts you]

In Pyle’s classic retelling, the legends come alive in unsurpassed vividness. More powerful than any of Merlin’s spells, The Story of King Arthur and His Knights has enthralled and delighted generations of readers fascinated by chivalry, magic, and the unforgettable drama of medieval times.[enthrall: to hold the attention of (someone); chivalry: an honorable and polite way of behaving; medieval: of or relating to the period of European history from about 500 to about 1500] King Arthur is a legendary British leader who, according to medieval histories and romances, led the defence of Britain against Saxon invaders in the late 5th and early 6th centuries AD. [AD: Anno Domini -- Medieval Latin, which means “in the year of the Lord.”]

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VIII. Proper Language Usage

Don’t say it. Some common mistakes.

Don’t say/write

say/write

It can rain this evening.

It may/might/could rain this evening.

My parents wanted that I study.

My parents wanted me to study.

You must stop to smoke.

You must stop smoking.

Review the teaching materials. Be ready for the quiz.

What makes a city great? Write your opinions with supportive examples. No more than 350 words. Due Jan. 25, 2016 on the forum.

Write an imaginary story about a world different from ours. 300 words or so. Due Feb. 5, 2016 on the forum.

Homework