Cedar Valley News
Fictorial Number 413 · September 14, 2026
You Are the Meeting
By Teresa Nikas
I am an editor. My whole job is to know the right word from the wrong one, to hunt the stray comma, to catch a lose wearing a loose. People assume this makes me a guard, posted at the gate of the language to keep the riffraff out.
Let me confess something. I am not the guard. I am half in love with the riffraff. I keep, in a drawer I ought not, a private list of the mistakes I loved too much to fix.
Most of them, I got from songs.
In 1954, a writer named Sylvia Wright owned up to one of hers. As a girl, hearing an old ballad, she caught the line, they slew the Earl and laid him on the green, as, they slew the Earl and Lady Mondegreen. For years she pictured the two of them, the Earl and his lady, dying together, faithful to the end. How romantic, she thought. There never was a Lady Mondegreen. There was only a slain man on the grass. A child’s ear, handed a death, had invented a love. We call a misheard line a mondegreen now, after a woman who never was.
And oh, the world is quietly full of them. Somewhere sits a soul who heard a heartbroken country song and came away certain a woman named Lucille had left her poor farmer with four hundred children. Four hundred. The song had said hungry. The ear heard hundred. A generation, meanwhile, has sung each December of Round John Virgin, and in a pew sits a soul long at peace with Gladly, the cross-eyed bear. Each is a tiny accident of poetry. The ear, handed a sound it cannot place, refuses to hear nonsense and reaches for a story. And the story is very often lovelier than the truth.
Or take how words change their minds behind our backs.
The word nice once meant stupid, from a Latin word for ignorant; for centuries, to say you were nice was a tidy little insult. Awful once meant full of awe, a word fit for a cathedral. Silly once meant blessed. Each drifted, quietly, across hundreds of years, carried by nothing but millions of ordinary people using them a bit loosely, until they arrived, transformed, at the meanings you trust this morning. No dictionary ordered this. You did. Your great-grandparents did.
Or take the feelings we never got a word for.
There is one, iktsuarpok, from the Inuit, for a thing you have felt a hundred times and never named. It is the restlessness of waiting for someone to come. The going to the window, the going back to the window, the ache of the empty road. English never made the word. But some people, far to the north, felt it keenly enough to, and handed it down to the rest of us, like warm bread.
Do you see it now.
A word can be misheard into something better. A word can turn clean into its opposite. A word can be missing entirely, and borrowed whole from strangers who had it first. Language is no monument. It is not even, in the end, a book. It is the most democratic thing human beings have built, and it is being built again this morning, by every soul who opens their mouth.
Which brings me, at last, to the word at the top of the page.
Fictorial. Go on, hunt for it in your dictionary. It will not be there. We made it up, right here, for a thing with no name, a small piece of invented truth, half fiction and half editorial. You have been reading a made-up word, about made-up words, and it told you something true. It is no trick. It is only language, doing the oldest thing it knows: growing a word wherever a new thing needs one.
Mishear the song, and love your version the better. Let nice go on drifting. Steal the foreign word for the feeling you never could say. And when you need a word which does not exist yet, do the bravest, most human thing there is.
Make one up.
The dictionary is only the minutes. You are the meeting.
Cedar Valley News is free, and it comes to your inbox every morning, six days a week. If this morning’s fictorial was worth your time, please forward it to someone who would value it. And if someone forwarded it to you and you’d like your own each morning, you can subscribe here.
Cedar Valley News has a Letters to the Editor page, and I would be glad to hear from you. What is your favorite misheard lyric, or a word you wish English had, or one you have simply made up? Write to us. And if we have gotten something wrong, write and tell us, and we will run the correction.
This fictorial is part of the fictional Cedar Valley News series, written by Evan Swensen, Publisher, and Claude Marshall, AI Developmental Editor. While Teresa and her town are fictional, the words are real. The term mondegreen, for a misheard line, was coined by the writer Sylvia Wright in a 1954 Harper’s essay, “The Death of Lady Mondegreen,” after she misheard “and laid him on the green” as “and Lady Mondegreen” in the ballad “The Bonnie Earl o’ Moray.” The word nice derives from Latin nescius, “ignorant,” and shifted meaning over centuries; awful once meant “full of awe” and silly once meant “blessed,” both examples of well-documented semantic drift. Iktsuarpok is an Inuit (Inuktitut) word often glossed as the restless anticipation of waiting for someone to arrive. Fictorial is a coinage of this series. Sources include the Oxford English Dictionary, Harper’s Magazine, and standard etymological references.
Robin Barefield lives in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, where she and her husband own a remote lodge. She wrote her first novel, Murder Over Kodiak, powered by a generator, miles from the nearest road. No MFA. No publishing connections. No high-speed internet.
The ceremony is the same every year. The names are the same. The readers change — grown children now where small children once stood, grandchildren where children once stood. The memorial pools fill the footprints of the towers. The water falls continuously.
Open a browser you do not normally use. Type your name. Hit search.
He had grown up in Bujumbura, the capital — the son of a French father and a Rwandan Tutsi mother. In 1994, the genocide in neighboring Rwanda killed between 500,000 and 800,000 people in one hundred days. Civil war followed in Burundi. His family left. He grew up in France.
The morning after. The folding tables are back in the garage. The leftover food is in the refrigerator. The unsold books are stacked on the dining room table. The banner is rolled up in the corner.
Lee came to the United States from Seoul at age three, with his mother and sister, to join his father, a psychiatrist who had immigrated earlier. He grew up in Westchester County, outside New York City. As a child, he often translated for his Korean-speaking mother. He stood between two languages for her, carrying her words into English and the world’s words back to her.
Monday morning. A bookstore manager sits down with forty-seven unread messages. She has an hour before the store opens. She is deciding which emails deserve her attention and which ones can wait.
The novelist Ella Camposanto has arrived in Sicily with her twelve-year-old daughter, Manuela. They are staying near the ruins where the narrator’s grandmother once worked on an archaeological dig. The summer is full of volcanic rumbles and sudden storms. The narrator’s mother is beginning to forget.
When I was publishing Alaska Outdoors magazine, the head of the journalism department at the University of Alaska sent me a submission. It was so poorly written, I took it for a joke. I answered it as a joke, only to learn the author was serious. He simply had such an inflated self-image; his writing read like a spoof. It was no spoof.
At 8:15 on the morning of August 6, 1945, Kiyoshi Tanimoto was on the outskirts of Hiroshima, unloading a handcart at a house in the suburb of Koi. He was two miles from the city center. He had slept poorly — the overnight air-raid warnings had kept him up — and he had risen early and set out with the cart.
Two books publish on the same Tuesday.
Among the nineteen longlisted novelists this year are writers who have been writing for a long time before this first novel existed.
You check your Amazon page for the first time after your launch team has done its work. The reviews are there. Three in the first week. Your heart lifts. Then you notice the label beneath one of them.
This is Publication Consultants’ motivation for constantly striving to assist authors sell and market their books. Author Campaign Method (ACM) of sales and marketing is Publication Consultants’ plan to accomplish this so that our authors’ books have a reasonable opportunity for success. We know the difference between motion and direction. ACM is direction! ACM is the process for authorpreneurs who are serious about bringing their books to market. ACM is a boon for them.
Release Party
Web Presence
Book Signings
Facebook Profile and Facebook Page
Active Social Media Participation
Ebook Cards
The Great Alaska Book Fair: October 8, 2016


Costco Book Signings
eBook Cards

Benjamin Franklin Award
Jim Misko Book Signing at Barnes and Noble
Cortex is for serious authors and will probably not be of interest to hobbyists. We recorded our Cortex training and information meeting. If you’re a serious author, and did not attend the meeting, and would like to review the training information, kindly let us know. Authors are required to have a Facebook author page to use Cortex.
Correction:
This is Publication Consultants’ motivation for constantly striving to assist authors sell and market their books. ACM is Publication Consultants’ plan to accomplish this so that our authors’ books have a reasonable opportunity for success. We know the difference between motion and direction. ACM is direction! ACM is the process for authors who are serious about bringing their books to market. ACM is a boon for serious authors, but a burden for hobbyist. We don’t recommend ACM for hobbyists.

We’re the only publisher we know of that provides authors with book signing opportunities. Book signing are appropriate for hobbyist and essential for serious authors. To schedule a book signing kindly go to our website, <
We hear authors complain about all the personal stuff on Facebook. Most of these complaints are because the author doesn’t understand the difference difference between a Facebook profile and a Facebook page. Simply put, a profile is for personal things for friends and family; a page is for business. If your book is just a hobby, then it’s fine to have only a Facebook profile and make your posts for friends and family; however, if you’re serious about your writing, and it’s a business with you, or you want it to be business, then you need a Facebook page as an author. It’s simple to tell if it’s a page or a profile. A profile shows how many friends and a page shows how many likes. Here’s a link <> to a straight forward description on how to set up your author Facebook page.



Mosquito Books has a new location in the Anchorage international airport and is available for signings with 21 days notice. Jim Misko had a signing there yesterday. His signing report included these words, “Had the best day ever at the airport . . ..”



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