[Meeting the Author Through Books] Spelling? It's Essential for Building Trust

The Hidden Fun in Spelling Rules
Joo Yoon Lee Explains Why Proper Spelling Still Matters
From Everyday Mistakes to Creative Wordplay,
How "The Minimum Spelling Rules for Modern Adults" Makes Learning Entertaining

There are three main reasons why people read books: to be moved, to be entertained, or to gain useful knowledge. Most books aim to attract readers by focusing on one of these goals. Even if a book achieves just one of them, it is often considered successful. In this sense, "The Minimum Spelling Rules for Modern Adults" (Bigfish) is gaining attention as a learning guide that provides accurate knowledge about spelling and delivers essential information for everyday life. But that’s not all. The real reason this book stands out is because it skillfully mixes information with a sense of fun. The author, Joo Yoon Lee, who previously showcased her witty writing style in books like "The Minimum Spelling Rules for Oppa" and "It's Not That I Refuse to Get Married," once again presents entertaining and useful content. Lee, who "chases" readers practicing everyday spelling in real life while "pursuing" correct spelling, emphasizes that the final consonant in "jotda" (to pursue) is "ㅊ," and warns that using the "ㅈ" consonant would result in a very awkward word. I met her on May 15 to discuss these points.

Writer Joo Yoon Lee
Photo by Bigfish

- "The Minimum Spelling Rules for Modern Adults" is your second book on the subject of spelling. What inspired you to write about spelling?

▲I published an essay collection as my first book, but it was a complete flop (laughs). While working other jobs to make a living, my editor contacted me with the idea of writing a book about spelling. The editor, who had moved to another publishing company, said they were planning a book that would teach spelling in an easy and fun way. I had always enjoyed looking up words in the dictionary as a child, but writing a book about spelling felt like a heavy burden. However, the publisher responded positively to my sample manuscript, so the book was published. The response after publication was quite good. I received several requests related to spelling from various places. Eventually, I met my current publisher and ended up writing another book about spelling. I want to emphasize that I owe it all to my editor (laughs).

- Your book on spelling has received considerable attention. How do you personally interpret this phenomenon?

▲I don't think people are uninterested in spelling; rather, I believe they gave up because it was too difficult. In fact, most previous books on spelling were written by professors, journalists, or editors. They were very professional and extremely serious. In contrast, I approached it strictly from the reader's perspective. I thought that if something was difficult for me, it would be difficult for readers as well, so I focused on explaining things in an easy and entertaining way. When I judged that a shortcut would be more effective, I boldly set aside strict grammar rules. No matter how good the content is, if readers don't read it, what's the point? Fortunately, positive feedback like "I never expected to burst out laughing while reading a book about spelling" has put my mind at ease. "The Minimum Spelling Rules for Oppa," published in 2016, sold about 20,000 copies. "The Minimum Spelling Rules for Modern Adults" has been out for about two months, but I think it will soon catch up to the previous book's sales.

- Some say that it is impossible to know 100% of spelling rules.

▲Even the National Institute of the Korean Language sometimes issues conflicting opinions. A representative example is "doegapda" (to pay back). The Institute explained that "doe-" is a prefix meaning "again," and combining it with "gapda" (to repay) is not incorrect, but not all words with prefixes can be listed in the dictionary, so it was not selected as a headword. However, the Institute also stated that "gapda" already contains the meaning of "again," so there is no need for the prefix "doe-." When an internet user with the same thought as mine pointed this out, the Institute replied, "It is difficult to provide a clear standard for areas where there are grammatical differences of opinion." If even the National Institute cannot provide a standard, how can ordinary people follow spelling rules perfectly? In any case, I learned that the standard word for "doegapda" is "daegapeumhada," but I wonder how many people would actually say, "I will pay you back in full!" with a glare.

- Are there any unique features of Korean spelling compared to other languages?

▲I hesitate to keep bringing up negative aspects, but I want to mention the "utterly confusing spacing rules." Originally, Korean writing did not have spaces, but a foreigner who found it inconvenient introduced the English-style practice of spacing between words. However, this was not a good fit for Korean. Unlike English, it is difficult to clearly distinguish the beginning and end of words in Korean. Probably no one follows spacing rules perfectly. The silver lining is that since everyone gets it wrong, there is no need to be too embarrassed.

- Deliberate breaking of spelling rules is widespread among students and younger generations. What are your thoughts on this?

▲Some people say that King Sejong would be saddened by this reality, but I think differently. Rather, I believe he would be proud, thinking, "How wonderful that people are having such fun with the language I created. What a healthy populace!" Sometimes, deliberate breaking of spelling rules leads to creative results, such as changing "meongmeongi" (puppy) to "daengdaengi." There is even a product called "Gwaltonelemttin," a playful twist on "Paldo Bibimmyeon." Of course, in order to create variations, you must first know the correct spelling, so the importance of knowing proper spelling does not change.

- Even today, spelling is considered very important in certain situations. Mistakes in resumes can determine the outcome of a job application, and in romantic relationships, spelling can affect how attractive someone appears.

▲Before becoming a writer, I worked as a nurse, but it didn't suit me, and I was afraid to go to work because my supervisors were intimidating. However, reading the work notes they wrote gradually made my fear disappear. Every time I saw notes filled with mistakes like "itssum, eopssum, haessum," I couldn't help but laugh, and as a result, their words lost their authority. Even after becoming a writer, when I receive emails proposing a book project, if there are spelling mistakes, I hesitate to accept the offer, no matter how good the idea is. That's because I wonder, "Can I really trust them with my manuscript?" Some may think, "What's the big deal if you make a few spelling mistakes?" but using correct spelling is essential for building trust with others.

- During holidays, the meaning of "saheul" (three days) often becomes a topic of debate.

▲Not knowing something is not a crime. When I was in elementary school, I once saw a TV segment about "people getting on a manwon bus," and I asked, "Does the bus fare cost 10,000 won?" My sister burst out laughing. In fact, it meant the bus was packed full, not that the fare was 10,000 won. Anyway, despite that, I am now an author of books on spelling. Anyone can learn as they go. The "sa" in "saheul" sounds like the number "4," so it can be confusing, but if you know the sequence "haru (one day), iteul (two days), saheul (three days), naheul (four days), datsae (five days)," you won't get it wrong anymore. If someone doesn't know the meaning, instead of criticizing them, kindly explain it. Didn't we all used to recite "hannom, dushigi, seoksam, neoguri, ojingeo" as a joke when we were kids? (laughs)

- What are some commonly confused spelling rules? Any easy ways to remember them?

▲People often use "matchuda" when they should use "mathida." I think it's because the pronunciation of "machida" is more familiar. However, the two words have completely different meanings. "Matchuda" is used when bringing two or more things together, such as assembling scattered puzzle pieces, tailoring a suit to fit your body, or kissing someone you love. On the other hand, "mathida" is used when something is stuck or hits a target, such as getting a shot in the buttocks, rain hitting a dry flowerpot, or marking the correct answer with a pencil. To remember "matchuda," think of a kiss, where lips meet (chu~♥), so it's "matchuda." For "mathida," think of something being stuck (kkotida), so it's "mathida."

- Do even people who write a lot get confused by certain spelling rules?

▲Many people habitually use "ijhyeojida" (to be forgotten), but the correct form is "ijhida." There is no need to add the "-eojida" ending; "ijhida" alone conveys the meaning. This is called "double passive" in grammatical terms. Similar words include "boyeojida" and "sseuyeojida," but "boida" and "sseuida" are sufficient. However, while searching for an answer from the National Institute of the Korean Language for accuracy, I found myself exclaiming, "So what am I supposed to do?" They say that since there are differences of opinion about the scope of passive expressions, if you need a more definite standard, you should consult books or papers on the passive voice.

- There have long been criticisms that spelling rules are out of touch with reality, and some argue they should be made easier. How do you think they should change?

▲While writing an article for a newspaper, I once wrote the sentence "the subway crossing the Han River" and hesitated over whether "garojireuda" (to cross horizontally) was the correct expression. When I checked the Standard Korean Language Dictionary, it defined it as "to pass across something in a horizontal direction," so I asked the National Institute of the Korean Language for confirmation. They said it didn't seem appropriate when passing vertically. If that's the case, why not add the word "saerojireuda" (to cross vertically) to the dictionary? On the other hand, the Korea University Korean Dictionary defined it as "to cut across a place (such as a road or a moving object)," which matched my own understanding. The Standard Korean Language Dictionary feels like a conservative great-grandfather, while the Korea University Korean Dictionary is like an open-minded uncle. That's why I sometimes feel frustrated when I have to rely on the Standard Korean Language Dictionary. But on the other hand, I also think that the family needs a great-grandfather to keep it grounded. If I have one small wish, it's that the great-grandfather could also be open to new things from time to time.

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.