Josh Stallings's Blog: FROM THE DESK OF A LYSDEXIC MIND
March 11, 2011
LIVING WITH A LYSDEXIC MIND
Dyslexia, a word, a label, a condition. I’m dyslexic in a text based world. I write novels. I drive my copy editors to drink. I drive my copy editors to distrust their own judgment on word spelling. I drive my copy editors to their own personal dyslexia. I have burned out three good editors so far. More will fall before my career is over, but it can’t be helped.
I wasn’t always dyslexic, oh no, as child my mother was told I just wasn’t as bright as the other 1st graders. She didn’t know I heard. Though I didn’t really need to. See I knew it every time I got up to read in front of the class and mumbled gibberish came spill out, I was reminded I wasn’t like the other kids. Waaa poor me, right? Nope, screw that self-pity noise, save it for some one with a real problem. See my brain is different than what they call normal, but really who’s isn’t? Normal, never met it.
My biggest fear as a 21 year old father was I wouldn’t be able to read to my kids, so I would stumble my way through Where The Wild Things Are and follow it up with a talking story. I made up entire universes each night. Intricate word sand castles that would live in their minds and then the tide would roll in and leave no trace.
Scream forward. Internet takes over the world. In forums for Ducati riders I am blaster for misspelling. In a Classic Mini Cooper chat-room I am told to get a spell checker or stop posting. Ahhhh, I invent LysdexicWriter. A screen name that tell others “I can’t spell, so what?” The good folks of netdome lay off.
Pleas don’t misinterpret this to mean I don’t believe in perfect spelling in my novels, or anyone elses, I do. And I am willing to drive copy editors mad, and toss my long suffering first reader, Erika under the word bus, to make sure my writing is spelled right or is that rite I’m damn sure it isn’t write. Spell checkers don’t speak no homophone.
What is this ramble leading to? You are reading it this moment. To keep life interesting I have started to blog, forcing myself to write without a safety net. If after reading it for a while you discover yourself losing the ability to spell correctly don’t blame me. I warned your asses.
I wasn’t always dyslexic, oh no, as child my mother was told I just wasn’t as bright as the other 1st graders. She didn’t know I heard. Though I didn’t really need to. See I knew it every time I got up to read in front of the class and mumbled gibberish came spill out, I was reminded I wasn’t like the other kids. Waaa poor me, right? Nope, screw that self-pity noise, save it for some one with a real problem. See my brain is different than what they call normal, but really who’s isn’t? Normal, never met it.
My biggest fear as a 21 year old father was I wouldn’t be able to read to my kids, so I would stumble my way through Where The Wild Things Are and follow it up with a talking story. I made up entire universes each night. Intricate word sand castles that would live in their minds and then the tide would roll in and leave no trace.
Scream forward. Internet takes over the world. In forums for Ducati riders I am blaster for misspelling. In a Classic Mini Cooper chat-room I am told to get a spell checker or stop posting. Ahhhh, I invent LysdexicWriter. A screen name that tell others “I can’t spell, so what?” The good folks of netdome lay off.
Pleas don’t misinterpret this to mean I don’t believe in perfect spelling in my novels, or anyone elses, I do. And I am willing to drive copy editors mad, and toss my long suffering first reader, Erika under the word bus, to make sure my writing is spelled right or is that rite I’m damn sure it isn’t write. Spell checkers don’t speak no homophone.
What is this ramble leading to? You are reading it this moment. To keep life interesting I have started to blog, forcing myself to write without a safety net. If after reading it for a while you discover yourself losing the ability to spell correctly don’t blame me. I warned your asses.
