Thursday, October 5, 2017

The Making of a Writer - From dyslexic to wordsmith

I didn't know I was dyslexic when I was young. I think I found out when I was in University, after my dad discovered some drawings with words on it. My lettering was often reversed, which is common for many kids, I suppose, but it was still an interesting discovery. Later in school, when any memory or knowledge of dyslexia was present, we progressed to actual writing, and it was then when I switched from being left-handed, to right-handed. My hand would be less in the way so I could see what I wrote. For a short time, and even into my teens, I had trouble deciding which hand to hold my utensils to adequately cut pieces of steak. Neither way felt good, so I'd keep flipping.

When I got to grade 3, I was still holding my pencil in a way that made sense to me. I often managed my way through childhood by observing, even if my observation was fault. So my pencil ran between my index and middle finger. My grade 3 teacher would have none of it. I was provided a plastic triangular device to force me to hold the pencil properly. It didn't matter that my writing looked fine. And it quickly went to shit since I had to retrain my brain to write holding the pencil awkwardly.



It was also in grade 3 that I was put in the remedial reading group. I wasn't bad at reading, but my knowledge of words wasn't as good as my peers, and the speed with which I read was relatively slow. I still read relatively slow. Just a little faster than talking speed.

It was around this time that Beatrice Thurman Hunter visited our school and her auto-biographical books, the Booky series, was available to us. I bought them through Scholastic, and my favourite memories were ordering and waiting the 4-6 weeks for the books to arrive, and the thrill that overcame me when the forgotten order finally arrived. It was like Christmas.  My parents were generous, and my father let it be known that I could buy as many books as I wanted.

Growing up in the condo with my parents, I was surrounded by books. I remember being too little to carry some books. I'd pull them off the shelf and try to lower them gently to the floor without too much of a smash, and then read it on the stairway landing where my dad build a custom bookshelf. I'd pour through Michelangelo arts books, the Colliers Encyclopaedia, and even Euclid's books on math. I mostly observed, but I was mesmerized by them.

I already wrote about becoming a voracious reader in another blog post, so I won't repeat that here. But it was a very important part of being a writer. I think the daily nightly reading before bed, and any time I was bored and nothing was on television, reading gave me the ability to write, even though I struggled with writing due to a lack of practice.  In time, however, I found my writing voice.

I failed English every year of my high school career, but still managed to do very well when it came time to upgrade my mark. It was mostly from a fear of writing, because I wasn't good at it. I was sick of getting poor marks mostly for spelling errors. My grammar wasn't perfect, but it wasn't terrible either. And yet all that red ink discouraged me. Ultimately, I need to do more writing, and learn the skill of writing through practice.

It was in university that my second year T.A. in Introduction to Communications gave the advice to the class to read their work out loud. It was that year that my writing improved exponentially. I was able to see and hear errors, and find more fluid ways to express myself in writing. All by reading out loud. In my most recent writing, I would do a second draft with a pen correcting and adding, and then a reading third draft to further refine and catch mistakes. My biggest blunder in early years of writing was handing in first drafts. That was the main reason I never achieved in English class, and struggled with essays in the early years of university.

Fast forward to more recent years, specially writing stories about my father, and blogging about my travels. I had a few people privately tell me I should write. So I joined a screenwriting class that I found out about through an acquaintance that involved sharing what we had written.  I used an original News Radio episode I wrote, and also wrote the first half of a play. Hearing people change their voices to reflect the characters I assigned was amazing, and I laughed at their performance of my words.

After that, I came up with an idea for a series of novels. It has percolated for a number of years as I read books about writing. When I went to Ryerson to see Douglas Coupland speak, I remember him saying that a lot of people asked him for advice on how to get published. In most cases, the people asking had not yet written their book, and so his advice was to write the book.

And so that's what I have done. I'm not done yet, but I will have a completed a novel soon, and I have plans to have the second novel completed soon after. I discovered I can bang out 1000 words an hour without too much difficulty. I can get lost for an entire day and complete 4000 without breaking a sweat. And when I read what I have written, I always marvel that I managed to write something so compelling.  It's somewhat self-congratulatory to say that, but it was the same way I felt when my screenplay was read. The feedback from the performers and facilitator was positive. Here's hoping people will enjoy reading my words. Hopefully I will find my place as a wordsmith, despite the turbulent journey I had with writing.

NOTE: I generally publish my first draft when I blog write. Then correct after it;s been published, every time I re-read it.

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