The week leading up to a bee (especially a regional or national bee) is often one of the most stressful weeks of a year. I've had the opportunity to experience these weeks firsthand a number of times. Many people, especially if it's their first time competing at a certain bee, are unsure of what to do in the week beforehand. How to modify your schedule, how to modify your study strategies, and how to mentally prepare yourself are frequently asked (and very good) questions. Here's what worked for me.
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Scheduling: Set up your schedule so that you can study as much as possible. Eliminate all but the necessary obligations from your schedule if you can. Write out a schedule each night (on school nights) or day (on weekends) of what you're going to do when. Give yourself breaks though--it's not efficient or healthy to study for hours and hours on end without breaks. Take 5-10 minutes every hour or two to get up, walk around, and drink a glass of water.

Studying: Review, review, review. Go over all the words you've struggled with from everything that you've studied. Then, write down the ones you miss and go over the missed words 5-10 times (it might seem like a lot, but it's absolutely worth it). Then, write down the ones you miss during those 5-10 reviews, and review those 10 times. Repeat the process until you've gotten all your missed words correct multiple times.

Mental Preparation: If you're anything like me, you're probably at least a little nervous. Take some time to get into a good mindset. Envision yourself winning as vividly as possible multiple times, and envision yourself losing once or twice too so that you're prepared for both outcomes. (Mostly envision yourself winning, though--confidence boosts are always a good thing). Most importantly, remember that you've worked hard. Remind yourself that regardless of the outcome, the experience and knowledge gained is so much more important than your placement or a trophy. 

Good luck!

       Every speller comes face to face at some point with the everlasting conundrum of -ible versus -able. It always appears at first as though there are no rules, no patterns, no guidelines by which to guess what ending the word uses. However, if one parses through enough words, some tendencies become apparent.
     The basic rule for this is to drop the suffix and see what remains. If it's a whole word, use -able. If it's not, use -ible. Take, for example "accountable" and "disponible." "Account" is a word. "Dispon" is not. Of course, even the best rules have exceptions, so there are some ways to determine if a word is an exception. 
      The -ion rule can be incredibly helpful in this pursuit. It's pretty simple. If the base word of the -ible/-able word has a form ending in -ion, it's probably -ible. Think of "combustible." "Combust" is a whole word in itself, but it doesn't use -able because of its noun counterpart: combustion. There's "assertible" too: "assert" is a whole word, but it still uses an i because of "assertion." It's not a perfect rule, but it's a helpful one at least. 
    However, there's another challenge if the base word ends in -e. There's still the confusion regarding i vs. a, but an additional question is added: should the e stay or go? The e typically only stays if the base word ends in -ce or -ge, assuming they make s and j sounds respectively. In that case, the word would be -eable (but if the -ion rule applies,  drop the e and use an i). Otherwise, it will probably be -able. "Pronounceable" and "ageable" are both good examples--"deducible," however, drops the e and uses and i because of the -ion rule.
      If all else fails, go by the numbers--four times as many words end in "-able" as end in "-ible."
     Of course, none of these rules are constant, and there are plenty of exceptions. Use these rules as a loose guide, though, and you'll start seeing vast improvement in your ability to differentiate between -ible and -able.

      Everyone is familiar with the hippopotamus, the gargantuan gray pachyderm that's cute but can also be dangerous and deadly. The word hippopotamus has one of my favorite etymologies. It's not that it's esoteric or complex. It comes from the Greek hippo- meaning horse and potam- meaning river, so literally, it means "river horse." There's something oddly funny to me about thinking about a hippopotamus as a river horse, but such is language. There are a number of hippo- words in addition to this that are equally amusing, baffling, or fascinating. 
      Case in point: hippotigrine, meaning "of or relating to the zebra." Etymologically, however, this means "horse tiger." It's definitely amusing to think of a zebra not as its own animal, but as a hybrid of a tiger and a horse. It's funny, but it makes sense--the zebra does, after all, look like a horse, but with striped patterns reminiscent of the tiger.
       Then, of course, there's hippogriff. It's a mythical creature that's half griffin and half horse. That one's straightforward enough, but I still love it because of its portmanteau-style construction. There are plenty of other very straightforward hipp- words, like hippology (the study of horses), hippic (relating to horses or horse racing), and hippodrome (a stadium for horse races). Overall, though, it's a fun (although common) root that has a part in some incredible words.

Over the past four days, I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to go on a road trip with my family through much of the southwest US--we visited four national parks and went through three states (in addition to Colorado, of course). Last night, when we were in Grand Canyon National Park, I found my dad Googling the origin of the name Arizona, which gave me a great idea for a blog post: geographical names. Although there is some controversy over the exact origin, it’s something similar to this: Arizona’s name is derived from the O’odham alĭ ṣonak (meaning “small spring”), which eventually became Arizona. The name Arizona was initially applied to a village in Sonora, although it later became the name of the US state we know today. Arizona is also used as a place name in many locations throughout Central and South America.
So why am I rambling on about geographical names? What does that have to do with spelling? Any seasoned speller can tell you that geographical names present some of the toughest challenges in the bee. Oftentimes, instead of being given a straightforward language of origin, the speller is told where the geographical name is used (e.g. the given origin for “Arizona” would likely be “American geographical name” or something similar). It can make it much more difficult to discern any language patterns or other clues that may assist with the spelling of word. While it’s true that the nature of geographical names makes them difficult to spell, many spellers might think that this means that the learning of geographical names should be undertaken purely as a memorization task, which is not true. While many geographical names can certainly be learned through memorization, they’re really just like any other words. There are three main tools, besides plain memorization, that will be the most helpful to you in mastering the spellings of geographical names.

1. A solid understanding of history. Take, for example, Lake Powell in Utah. One might not necessarily know how “Powell” was spelled, but if one knows the history of the region, the word suddenly becomes much easier. Lake Powell is named after a scientist and explorer named John Wesley Powell, who explored much of the Green and Colorado Rivers in the 19th century. He also led an expedition through the Grand Canyon in 1869. While “Powell” is not exactly the hardest word to spell, it serves as a good example to show how history helps you understand the reasons behind place names and their spellings.
2. Language patterns. Even if you are not given the word’s specific language of origin beyond something like “Mongolian geographical name,” one can easily guess about what languages might have influence in the region, and, therefore, what patterns to follow when piecing together the word. Of course, this is easier with some words than others; for example. Polish geographical names evidently use Polish patterns almost all of the time. (Speaking of Polish, the word Szczecin is a perfect example of language patterns that can be followed in geographical names--the \sh\ sound is often spelled “sz” in Polish derived words, and the “c” and “cz” are both fairly common spellings for \ch\ in Polish words.), but this goes to show that geographical names really aren’t all that different from other words.
3. Studying geography itself. Enough said.

When I was an eligible speller, I hated geographical names, so all of this is not to say that they aren’t difficult. I simply believe that with the right methods, learning to spell geographical names is far more than just memorization. They can be a lot of fun, too!

Every year, as the Scripps National Spelling Bee comes closer and closer, the predictions begin. Articles are posted on news sites, former spellers are interviewed about their favorites, and a group of current and former spellers holds their own "fantasy spelling" competition on the Internet, modeled after fantasy football. The consensus among virtually everyone in 2017 was that there were three favorites: Shourav Dasari, Siyona Mishra, and Tejas Muthusamy, and yet none of them won. Shourav Dasari and Snehaa Ganesh Kumar were both favorites in 2016--neither won. All of this is not to say that those chosen as favorites aren't great spellers, of course, but the fact is that the bee is unpredictable and the unexpected is more likely than the expected. So why is the bee so unpredictable?
​First of all, you don't always know how hard everyone is working. While previous bee records are certainly relevant, they're not everything. There is always someone relatively unknown who has been studying intently throughout the year. They may not have had a chance to show off their spelling skills in previous bees, but that doesn't mean that they will necessarily be any less of a force in the bee that's being predicted. Prediction isn't possible with these types, as (evidently) they don't always have a record to look at.
Secondly, as hard as anyone can try, the bee's word list can never be perfectly even. Harder words are used in the same rounds as easier ones. Luck is an element. No matter how good of a speller someone is, there are always words that they might not know. Nobody has ever successfully memorized every single word in the dictionary, although some have come close. The favorites might get unlucky and get those words. There's definitely a debate on how fair this is, but if luck weren't an element, would the bee really be the bee? 
The third element: nerves. The best of the best have succumbed to the pressure that's on them during the bee. Despite having studied for hundreds and hundreds of hours, sometimes stress and tension are enough to take a speller down.
Why do you think the bee is unpredictable? Do you think the bee should be predictable? Why?