Conlang Stuff

New greyfolk language typeface, syllable blocks, numerals

After working on other pieces of the greyfolk language for so long, I am genuinely proud to present the new typeface: klepalka (it’s in a .zip file since .ttf files aren’t normally allowed by WordPress). The name is just a transliteration of the work ‘greyfolk’ into the greyfolk language. Instead of just containing a few syllable blocks to use as examples, this typeface includes all 420 syllable blocks. It also contains all letters and numerals, of course, but also punctuation!

greyfolk m n p t k s y l h a e i o u
qwerty m n p t k s y l h a e i o u
greyfolk 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 A B C D E F
qwerty 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 A B C D E F
greyfolk , ; . « » ( ) [ ] # ~
qwerty , ; . « » ( ) [ ] # ~

The letters should be pretty self-explanatory.

The numerals work for up to a hexadecimal system, which is why A–F is included. As far as I know, greyfolk (mostly) use a duodecimal system, but, in designing the numerals and learning more about different bases, it made sense to give the numerals a bit more flexibility. There is a pattern to the numerals. On the top, it goes abcd abcd abcd abcd. On the bottom, it goes aaaa bbbb cccc dddd. An ‘a’ is one leg, a ‘b’ is a flat, a ‘c’ is two legs, and a ‘d’ is a circle.

The punctuation is fairly straightforward, but it works a little different in the greyfolk language than it does in English. The comma is a short pause, and it can stand in for or replace the particle «hu» «hu ». The semi-colon is a medium pause, and it can stand in for or replace the particle «syu» «syu ». The em dash is a long pause, and it is used to a similar effect—it ties two phrases together. For each of these punctuation marks, they are dots (or very small marks in this case) that move out horizontally for a longer pause. Then, there comes the period, which marks the end (and sometimes also the beginning) of a sentence, which is two of these dots/marks stacked vertically. The single guillemets are the first level of quotation marks and the double guillemets are the second level of quotation marks. The parentheses look like angle brackets, but they are used for de-emphasis marks, which do function a lot like parentheses, but can also be used to show whispering or an aside. The square brackets are used for emphasis marks, which is kind of like using italics, bold, or even exclamation points. The number sign is a really smushed «hu » because all numerals start with that syllable. Then, there’s the tilde, which I really only added because it’s fun. Oh, and there’s no question mark because greyfolk language has obligatory interrogatives in the language itself.

Syllable blocks have also changed shape again, and they changed back to what they looked like before. The only difference is that vowels are smaller, which really helps with the legibility of the entire syllable.

  • «ma» is a CV syllable and looks like «ma »
  • «mya» is a CCV syllable and looks like «mya »
  • «mam» is a CVC syllable and looks like «mam »
  • «myam» is a CCVC syllable and looks like «myam »

So, nothing crazy there. Though, «m» in the onset position does have a small curve to help with legibility.

It should also be noted that syllable blocks are ligatures in this typeface. It’s definitely not the best system, especially since ligatures have to be manually turned on in some places (like Microsoft Word), but it does work. A sequence of letters turns into its syllable block form when followed by a space. So, «myam» «myam » is typed out as «myam ». Again, it’s a bit hacky, but it works well-enough for my purposes, and I’m very happy with that because I had no experience in designing typefaces going into this. As far as I know, other written languages with syllable blocks (like Korean’s Hangul) use special software, which would be even further out of my range. For now.

Also, yes, I know that the klepalka typeface is sometimes a bit green- or pink-tinted. I see it on Google Chrome on my desktop computer, and I can only assume it’s because of how Google Chrome handles certain typefaces.

For the names of the letters and numbers, I threw together a chart. It could be clearer, though it it’s not too unclear.

letter («syu-») number («hu-») name suffix
h 0 «-han»
m 1 «-mam»
n 2 «-nal»
p 3 «-pal»
t 4 «-tan»
k 5 «-kam»
s 6 «-sla»
y 7 «-yal»
l 8 «-lam»
9 «-mla»
A «-nya»
B «-pya»
C «-tlan»
D «-syam»
E «-nlal»
F «-myan»
10 «-mamhan»
a «-ha»
e «-he»
i «-hi»
o «-ho»
u «-hu»

Thus, 0 is «huhan» «hu han ». The number names are pretty final (other than B–F, which aren’t very important to me), but the letter names aren’t set in stone. For counting or reciting the alphabet, repeating the prefixes isn’t necessary so long as there is a comma. Counting to duodecimal ten would go like this: «huhan, mam, nal, pal, tan, kam, sla, yal, lam, mla, nya, pya, mamhan». There may be a way to shorten numbers in the future, but that’s something else that I haven’t figured out yet as it might conflict with other disyllabic roots.

That’s it!

With the typeface as done as it needs to be, my goal is to start fleshing out the lexicon with disyllabic roots and words. And trisyllabic, I guess. So, I’ll be working on polysyllabic roots and words. If I can get a few hundred words, I can start talking about and using sentences, which means more fun syntax and grammar stuff. Right now, I can only saw a few things, like «me plo ,‹kle san ›».

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: roots 12–20 (and 21?)

In my previous post, I covered the sixth through the eleventh monosyllabic root. In this post, I will cover the last nine.

«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»

«kyu» is a particle that acts as a complementizer or relativizer. It translates into English as ‘that’ as well as ‘who’, ‘which’, etc. in the sense of ‘the one that smiled’, ‘he who smiles’, etc.

«kul» is a particle that denotes possession. It translates into English as ‘of’ in the sense of ‘he is the brother of my mother’ to mean ‘he is my mother’s brother’. I avoid comparing this to apostrophe s not because it functions differently but because it behaves differently, though that would be a fine translation.

«num» translates into English as ‘and’.

«sul» translates into English as ‘but’.

«lun» translates into English as ‘or’.

«yum» translates into English as ‘from’.

«myu» translates into English as ‘to’, ‘toward’, or ‘at’.

«hu» is a special particle that doesn’t really have a counterpart in English. The quick-and-dirty explanation is that it’s like a comma. It is used to separate words that, if not separated, might sound ambiguous together. Of course, a pause in speech can also produce the same effect.

«syu» is likewise a special particle that doesn’t really have a counterpart in English. The quick-and-dirty explanation is that it’s like «hu», but, instead of separating words, it can separate phrases to get rid of ambiguity.

«nlu» doesn’t mean anything—it’s not even on the list—, but it is the only usable particle left over. Maybe I’ll find a use for it someday!

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: roots 6–11

In my previous post, I covered the first five monosyllabic roots. In this post, I will cover the next six.

«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»

«nel» translates into English as ‘past’ as in ‘the past’. So, «nil» is the modifier form that, as an adverb, functions as the past tense.

«ten» translates into English as ‘present’ as in ‘the present’. So, «tin» is the modifier form that, as an adverb, functions as the present tense.

«lem» translates into English as ‘future’ as in ‘the future’. So, «lim» is the modifier form that, as an adverb, functions as the future tense.

These “tenses” are optional. Context clues usually make up for a lack of tense. But what tense is an un-tensed sentence in? It’s not really a tense, it’s more of a grammatical mood. Specifically, I’d say this specific mood in my conlang is the indicative, declarative, or realis mood. More or less, it expresses something true. When we say something like ‘I love you’, it doesn’t necessarily express the present tense like ‘I love you right now‘. It tends to be more of a declaration of the truth—the truth being that I love you.

«pem» translates into English as ‘what’ or ‘whom’, «pim» translates into English is ‘which’, and «pum» translates into English as ‘?’. That last one is literal. In the greyfolk language, this root indicates a question. If «pem» or «pim» isn’t used, then the particle «pum» is used. For example, let’s say «kyola» is a verb that means ‘to want’. «se kyola pem» means ‘you want what?’ or ‘what do you want?’ «se kyola ke pim» means ‘you want which one?’ or ‘which one do you want?’ «pum se kyola ke» means ‘you want it?’ or ‘do you want it?’ In the case of «pum», it can kind of be stuck anywhere in a question, but it is usually the first word. If it follows a word, it puts emphasis on that word.

«pli» translates into English as ‘yes’. «plu» is a little different—it translates into English as ‘with’. These are related concepts for a reason that I’ll probably talk about in the future, but all that matters is that they came from the same root. Also, while it’s not on the list, «plo» would translate into English as the verb ‘to be’. It’s not on the list because I didn’t focus on verbs.

«min» translates into English as ‘no’ or ‘not’. «mun» is a little different—it translates into English as ‘without’. Likewise, «mon» would mean ‘to not be’.

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: roots 1–5

In my previous post, I gave described the background and the process of coming up with the monosyllabic roots and words for the greyfolk language. There are 20 of them, but, in this post, I will go over the first five.

«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»

Obviously, the “head-initial” vowel for each of these words is «e», which means that each is a noun or a pronoun. In this case, these are all pronouns.

Previously, «pe», «te», and «ke» were the first-, second-, and third-person pronoun, respectively. As I worked with Hamming distance, it was obvious that these pronouns would likely have to change.

«me» is the new singular first-person pronoun. Coincidentally, it should be very familiar. In human language, there are all sorts of me and mi first-person pronouns floating around. As the first-person pronoun, it would translate into English as both ‘I’ and ‘me’ depending whether it was the subject or object.

«se» is the new singular second-person pronoun. It would translate into English as ‘you’, which is both the subject and object.

«ke» is the new singular third-person pronoun. It would translate into English as ‘he’, ‘him’, ‘she’, ‘her’, ‘it’, or the singular form of ‘they’ or ‘them’. Gender and sex do not matter for «ke». And, again, it can be both subject or object.

«tle» is the mediopassive pronoun, which is new to my conlang. As a subject, it is a passive or impersonal construction. As an object, it basically means ‘myself’, ‘yourself’, etc. For example, let’s say «tonya» is a verb that means ‘to hurt’. «tle tonya me» means ‘I am hurt’. It can be thought of as ‘[blank] hurts me’. It’s almost an even more abstract version of «ke» in this context, but it puts the focus on the object instead of the subject. «me tonya tle» is a bit simpler, and it means ‘I hurt myself’.

«yel» is the demonstrative pronoun and «yil» is the demonstrative modifier. They both mean ‘this’, but they are used in slightly different ways. «yel» would just translate as ‘this’, but «ke yil» would translate as ‘this one’. There will probably be another word for ‘that’, but I haven’t figured that out yet.Get it?

As a last little bonus, these aren’t monosyllabic words, the plural personal pronouns will probably be «mema», «sesa», and «keka». The singular and plural correlations should be quite obvious!

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: the background

Before I start talking about the nouns formed from the 20 monosyllabic roots in the greyfolk language, I want to explain some background concepts as well as the process. After almost two months, I finished these suckers about a week ago, and then I gave them a bit of time to rest because I knew that I would tweak them a bit more, which I did.

Hamming distance (which I have explained previously, and which I keep wanting to call hammerspace) was the key in determining which roots were usable. As previously discussed, roots that sound too similar aren’t ideal. So, I used Hamming distance to decide what “too similar” meant. In my case, it means that there needs to be a Hamming distance of 2 for things to not sound too similar. For example, «m» is a labial nasal and «n» is a coronal nasal, but there’s only one difference: the difference between labial and coronal. So, «m» and «n» have a Hamming distance of 1. However, «t» is a coronal plosive, so it has a Hamming distance of 2 from «m» (labial nasal), which is neither coronal or plosive. Yet, «t» only has a Hamming distance of 1 from «n» because they are both coronal. Thus, «tan» and «tam» are too similar but «mam» and «mat» aren’t. Furthermore, «nat» and «tan» are different enough because, even though «n» and «t» have a Hamming distance of 1, there are two instances of that difference, so that’s a total Hamming distance of 2 between those two words. It might seem tricky, but Hamming distance is easy to visualize.

Consonants Labial Coronal Dorsal Laryngeal
Nasal m n
Plosive p t k
Fricative s
Approximant j~ɰ1
Liquid l2
Transition h
  1. written «y», can be pronounced like English ‘y’ or ‘w’ or like Spanish soft ‘g’
  2. can be pronounced like English ‘r’ or like Spanish ‘r’ or ‘rr’

If any two consonants share a column or a row, they have a Hamming distance of 1. For example, «m» and «p» share a column, and «t» and «k» share a row. If they share neither a column or row, they have a Hamming distance of 2. For example, «n» and «y» (/j~ɰ/) are in different columns and rows. There is one big exception to this rule: «l» and «y» (/j~ɰ/) only have a Hamming distance of 1 even though they are in different rows and columns because many realizations of the liquid row sound like approximants.

Of course, I could also change the vowels and not just the consonants, but it’s not that easy. That’s because the first vowel dictates word class, which I also explained in the same post that I explained Hamming space. The “head-initial” vowels indicate words as follows:

  • «e» indicates a noun (or pronoun)
  • «i» indicates a modifier (e.g., adjectives, adverbs)
  • «o» indicates a verb
  • «u» indicates a function word (e.g., conjunctions, prepositions, particles)

And «a» is filler—it doesn’t mean anything except that the word isn’t over. So, it can’t be the first vowel.

Then, add the rules for syllables to start creating words. In the greyfolk language, the syllable structure is C1(C2)V(C3).

  • C1 can be «m n p t k s y l h»
  • C2 can be «y l», but not after «y l h»
  • V can be «a e i o u»
  • C3 can be «m n l»

A word just follows all of these rules. So, a word could be «me», «him», «pyo», «klul», «teka», «syepan», etc. Words can be written normally with spaces in between them, but this system has the advantage of being able to be written as a string of text with one minor adjustment. If a word—not a syllable!—does not have a C3, add a silent «h» to the end of the word. This disambiguates certain cases like «kamenyim» which would be «kamen» and «yim» or «kame» and «nyim». Using the silent «h» means that «kamenyim» is «kamen» and «yim» while «kamehnyim» is «kameh» and «nyim».

Now, I’ll return to discussing non-conflicting sounds. There is are two more rules to add to figure out Hamming distance between syllables and words in the greyfolk language. First, the difference between nothing and any sound is a Hamming distance of 1. For example, «nim» and «nyim» have a Hamming distance of 1 between them. «nim» does not have a C2 and «nyim» does, but they are otherwise the same, so this is a Hamming distance of 1. Second, the same root is allowed with different vowels. How else would it work? For example, «nem» and «nim» are fine because «nem» is a noun and «nim» is a modifier. Even if some vowels sound similar and get confused, because head-initial vowels determine word class, context makes up for the Hamming distance of 1.

Using all of these rules, there is a maximum number of non-conflicting syllables that can be formed, especially if they share a vowel. This was the hardest part of figuring out monosyllabic words. By hardest, I mean it was challenging and frustrating, and, yes, I did cry at least once. I have a very limited phonemic inventory, so there are a lot of constraints, and I put one extra constraint on myself: no monosyllabic words with a C2 and a C3.

What did I get?


«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»

With «nlu» left over.

So, that’s 20 monosyllabic roots to create 28 words. Not too shabby.

These words will be explained in following posts. I’m planning on discussing groups of roots. The other option is to go by word class, but that would be to show off the Hamming distance between each word in each class, but the above table can be used for that same effect. See for yourself!

Belated end of September Greyfolk language report

During September, I had 13-ish strong days of work on my conlang. Even with all of that work, it feels like I have so little to show. I’m mulling over the idea of making more regular posts that talk about what I’m working on instead of just what I’ve finished.

I merged my possessive/genitive particle with my complementizer/agentive particle, but I later undid that as it led to some weird ambiguity. Confusing “dog of friend eats” and “dog that friend eats” is too weird to ignore.

Concerning Hamming distance, I had a little revelation. If «mun» and «lun» are different enough, shouldn’t «num» and «nul» be different enough? Thus, the idea that a syllable could have the same initial consonant and vowel so long as one ended in «l» and one ended in «m» was born. I haven’t really used this yet, but it’s a neat little observation.

There was a bunch of time spent trying to figure out what the words for ‘yes’ and ‘no’ should sound like.

Numerals also broke a bit.

I played around with syntax and ambiguity a ton. It seems like there isn’t an easy/simple way for me to get the effect that I want, which is fine. It’s hard to disambiguate something like ‘American history teacher’ (without adding complex rules). Is it a teacher of American history? Or is it a history teacher that’s American? We may never know.

My favorite part was relearning Lojban basics while discovering some “ancient” conlangs from the listserv era.

A whole month has gone by without me figuring out monosyllabic words. After the first two weeks, this was very frustrating, and I felt defeated. Eventually, I cried it out, shrugged my shoulders, and changed my focus so I didn’t burn myself out. It’s okay to have not figured them out! As of today, I’m dipping my toes back in, and it feels so good to go back into it with a fresh mindset. That’s the trick—I just have to remind myself of that. Sometimes, a tactical withdrawal is the best move, even if it feels like a loss—because it’s not a loss. Throwing myself at the same topic again and again as I become more frustrated and burnt out, leading to such a big loss of time is just that: a loss.

There are times to push through, of course. It’s just about finding that balance, and there’s also meta-balance, finding the balance of finding balance. Maybe pushing through will lead to frustration and a week’s worth of setback compared to dropping it to work on something else. I might have some setback on the dropped topic because I lose my place, but I get to move forward with something else. Plus, losing my place, as I said, can be refreshing. Then, the meta-balance is figuring out how much of a setback I’m taking by spending time to find a balance. Sometimes, if it’s complex or I find myself teetering back and forth a ton, it’s just best to take the safe option to let myself breathe.

If I keep going, I’ll have written more about my working philosophy than I have about my actual conlang. I hope to post again soon!

End of August Greyfolk language report

Okay, so I honestly forgot about August 31st when I thought of the title and said that I would post this “tomorrow”. Use your imagination.

There are a few posts that I can definitely still make about conlanging—I just haven’t. I’ve had six-ish strong days of work this month, but a lot of my conlanging time has actually gone to working on a project for GURPS. Surprise! But let’s get into what I can talk about.

Also, I really need to get around to updating the Greyfolk language page because it has fallen behind. It just feels like so many changes are happening that, if I update it now, I’ll have reason to update it again so soon after!

“Head-initial” indicating vowels

That’s a rough way of describing a minor but very important change to my language. Before, the vowel that indicates part of speech (or word type) would be the final vowel in the word. Working with a potential mini version of the Greyfolk language made me realize that I could just have that indicating vowel be the first vowel in the word, which fits with the idea of the language being head-initial. So, instead of the final vowel sound being «e» for nouns, «i» for adjectives and adverbs, «o» for verbs, and «u» for other things (conjunctions, prepositions, particles, etc.), those would be the initial vowel sounds.

Thus, «halnyo» becomes «holnya»—that’s my stand-in word for ‘to bake’.

Hamming distance

The idea of Hamming distance is it’s something that “measures the minimum number of substitutions required to change one string into the other”, which, in my case, means it’s the number of different sound changes to make different words sound different. For me, this means that a two words should have at least a sound with a difference in manner of articulation and a sound with a difference in place of articulation, or two words should have one sound with both differences.

So, if I have «halnyo», I can’t have «halmyo», but I can have «halsyo». Of course, I still said at least two differences, but more is definitely better.

New syllable blocks and font

I mentioned this previously, but syllable blocks have changed with the new 7HR alphabet. A post about that will be coming shortly. Also, after I figure out all of my monosyllabic words (see below), I’ll have more Greyfolk language free time, which means I can work on the new font.

Monosyllabic words

Because of the number of phonemes that I have, the syllable construction, and Hamming distance, I can only have so many functional monosyllabic words. There are, however, a lot of concepts that I would love to have be represented by a single syllable. There may also be new personal pronouns…


Of course, I want numerals to be monosyllabic too. They were doing just fine until I removed «f» and «w», so I’ve had to rethink how they work and sound—oh, and also how they look. After I consider that pretty set in stone and get around to creating the new 7HR font, I’ll talk more about numerals.

Creating the new 7HR alphabet

It’s like a seven-segment display. But horizontal, so it’s on its side. But rotated, so it’s normal again. That’s what 7HR means—it’s 7-segment display horizontal rotated. So, the previous alphabet would be called 14N—it’s 14-segment display neutral. Seven segments is a lot less than 14 segments, so that’s already a great advantage of the new alphabet. In fact, I’d say it’s an upgrade across the board with only one minor drawback—that drawback will be explained later.

A horizontal seven-segment display (7H) works well for my alphabet.

Let’s looks at lines for place of articulation—place lines.

It has a labial line, representing articulation at the front of the mouth (i.e., lips).

It has a coronal line, representing articulation in the middle of the mouth.

It has a dorsal line, representing articulation at the back of the mouth.

Like 14N, all three lines are used to represent laryngeal articulation.

Now, let’s look at lines for manner of articulation—manner lines.

It has a nasal line, representing the position of the nasal cavity.

It has plosive lines, representing stopped airflow when used with a place line.

It has a fricative line, representing partially restricted airflow.

It has liquid lines…

…and approximant lines—both with partial lines reflecting partial turbulence.

It has transition lines, representing the transition with opposite partial lines.

To create a consonant letter, a place line and manner line are used together.

This is a labial plosive—i.e., «p».

Finally, let’s look at vowel lines. These only use four segments.

It has a close line.

It has a mid line.

It has a front line.

It has a back line.

It doesn’t have an open line or a central line, despite having an open central vowel—i.e., «a».  This is because «a» is so common and is often reduced, so I wanted it to be very minimal . So, the entire open central vowel is just one line.

Otherwise, to create a vowel, a close or mid line is used with a front or back line.

It could stop there, but it doesn’t. Unfortunately, 7H has two drawbacks: (1) when put into syllable blocks, «l» and «y» are hard to distinguish, and (2) it’s horizontal even though seven-segment displays are used vertically.

So, I rotated each letter 90° clockwise, which gives me 7HR. Of course, this has one major drawback: it distorts the featural system. There is still a one-to-one correspondence, but the labial line is now the top line…

…and so on and so forth.

Labial, coronal, dorsal, and laryngeal place lines.

Nasal, plosive, fricative, liquid, approximant, and transition manner lines.

Close, mid, front, and back lines, and the open central vowel.

Of course, just tilt your head back and all of the letters will still make sense. So, they are functional and I’d say they retain 90% of the featural symbolism. Again, the lines still have a one-to-one correspondence that maps out to the vocal tract, but it is a bit distorted.

So, here’s the labial plosive—i.e., «p».

The actual font is coming soon! I haven’t had the time to churn that out while moving into my new home (and enduring two and a half days of 80 °F heat because the capacitor on the HVAC condenser died). Plus, I also have a new new way of forming syllable blocks—the old new way was for 14N and was outdated by the new new way for 7H/7HR.

New «h» glyph (and the runners-up)

The new «h» glyph was decided in the minutes before I saw Flor de Toloache—an all-female mariachi—about a month and a half ago. I had been going back and forth and back and forth for a few days, but, somehow, making the decision away from my office made it just a little bit easier.

h $ % & @
h $ % & @

So, as I revealed in my previous post, h is the winner! (Also, check that post for more information on place and manner of articulation for more context about the following.) Out of all of those designs, it felt best. It uses a new manner of articulation and it was all three place of articulation lines to show that it was a unique place of articulation.

$ was what I was using before. It was a nice design, but I didn’t like that it was using the dorsal line. Of course, there is no laryngeal line, but that place of articulation was represented by the line running beneath it—the opposite of a nasal line. Yet, a horizontal line is supposed to be used for manner of articulation (like it is for the nasal line) and not place of articulation, and it was really bugging me for just one of my letters feeling inconsistent.

% was a fun little creation that looks like a face. It mixed up all manners and places of articulation, which I felt was better than being inconsistent. In a sense, it was so wrong that it was right. It felt special, but not inconsistent—except that it took so many strokes to write and it had a hole in the character.

& was going to be my choice despite how confusing interpreting those three non-touching horizontal lines would be. It didn’t always look too hot in syllable blocks. However, I liked the symbolism of the character—three horizontal lines for a new manner of articulation and no vertical lines because it isn’t in a labial, coronal, or dorsal place of articulation.

@ was fun—in fact, I loved it!—but it had to be tossed because it had… curves. It was just too sexy! No, wait, that wasn’t it. Again, it was just the inconsistency.

Honorable mentions go to two characters: a character that looked like an X and a character that looked like a K with the flat part on top (like @ with straight diagonal lines instead of curved lines). The diagonal lines looked inconsistent and neither of them looked good in syllable blocks.

So, a month and a half after its creation, please welcome h as the new character for «h»!

New alphabet, places of articulation, and manners of articulation

I just got finished finally typing up ‘New «h» glyph (and the runners-up)’ when I realized that a lot of what went into the design would be lost if I didn’t talk about place of articulation and manner of articulation as well as introduce some other minor changes with the alphabet.

Old m n p t k f s h l w y a e i o u
New m n p t k f s h l w y a e i o u
Sound m n p t k f s h l w y a e i o u

As you can see, «h», «w», «y», and the vowels changed. (That’s also a sneak peak at the new «h» about which I’ll discuss more in my next post. Don’t worry—it’s already written.) I did this to definitively establish what each line is supposed to mean in this featural writing system.

m has one vertical line in the front position—that’s the labial line. It represents the lips at the front of the mouth. It also has two vertical lines. The vertical line in the middle represents the top of the mouth and the detached vertical line on top represents the nasal cavity. Together, those define m as nasal.

n is very similar to m, but it has a vertical line in the middle position—that’s the coronal line. It represents the place where the tip of the tongue touches when producing that sound.

p has the labial line like m. Its two horizontal lines are the bottom line and the top line, and they are both attached to the vertical line—this represents a plosive by symbolizing a lack of airflow when producing that sound.

t is similar to p, but it has the coronal line like n.

k is similar to p and t, but its vertical line is in the back position, which represents the place toward which the back of the tongue is raised when producing that sound.

f and s are similar to p and t, but its horizontal lines are in the middle and bottom position, which looks similar to the plosive lines but represents that there is airflow through the mouth when producing those sounds, making those sounds fricative.

h will be talked about in my next post. Old «h» completed the p, t, k, f, s pattern, but this was inaccurate because «h» is laryngeal and not dorsal like «k».

l is similar to t and s. Its two horizontal lines are in the top and middle position, which represents its liquidity. This representation is less iconic but makes it visually similar to the fricative sounds.

w is labial and dorsal, so it has both of those lines. The single horizontal line on the bottom represents that this is an approximant. This representation is less iconic, but I was running out of choices. The old «w» has the old approximant line, which was represented by a single horizontal line in the top position.

y is the dorsal approximant, so it has those lines. The old «y» has the old approximant line as well as the coronal and dorsal lines to represent that it had a palatal placement, which is between alveolar and velar. Alveolar broadened to become coronal and velar broadened to become dorsal, and dorsal includes the palatal placement, so y just has a dorsal line.

The vowels have different lines that represent their placement on the vowel diagram as opposed to their place and manner of articulation (though, I was considering the latter idea). a is a low central vowel, e is a mid front vowel, i is a high front vowel, o is a mid back vowel, and u is a high back vowel. Their lines directly reflect those places. The old vowels went for a similar set up, but they all had a horizontal line in the top position whether they needed it or not for visual balance, but then I tossed that idea because—oh, I forgot to make a post about that too—syllable blocks also changed.