When words are't doing as they should

Every time I open a word document I click on page layout and change the colour to a light blue. If I’m dealing with more than one document with different information then I change the page to a creamy colour or green. Purple’s and pinks don’t work for me, but then each brain is different. Here are a couple of examples of how I sometimes see words when they’re on plain white paper. 

It’s difficult to show it accurately because of the shifting nature of letters with dyslexia but these are the best examples I’ve seen. The bottom one is especially accurate for me; I can only see one or two words clearly at a time.

When I was in university I was officially diagnosed with Dyslexia, though to be honest the diagnoses did little to help me besides letting the teachers know why my grammar and spelling was so appalling or why I had no chance in hell of finishing all of the set texts, especially if they contained new information. Most of what has helped me with my dyslexia I found through trial and error.

When I worked in a library I created a alphabet bracelet so I didn’t spend forever trying to untangle the order of letters in my brain, turning what used to be a laborious stressful task into child’s play.  Little things like this have helped me along the path of life in a world that doesn’t accept that some people just don’t have a short term memory or have the capability of keeping a beat.  My room is covered in post-its and my phone  is full of notes reminding me of all the things I am bound to forget.

I don’t see my Dyslexia as a hindrance as such, I’ve always enjoyed reading though a lot slower than I wanted to. I remember opening  Pride and Prejudice aged thirteen after my friend had recommended it to me and being completely at a loss as to what was happening. I couldn’t enjoy reading it because every word I read made me feel as though I was failing. As I child I remember telling my friends I’d read books that I’d truly only read the back cover of because I was embarrassed at how long it would have taken me to read them. Back then a thick novel was a daunting prospect and when I got tired the words would simply refuse to stay still on the page. I’d painstakingly force meaning out of one word after the other hating how much I still had to read.

Thankfully now I have gotten over my pride and with my fancy new blue glasses, which speed up my reading by 100%, I now have the pleasure of saying I’ve completed Pride and Prejudice,  Emma and am working my way through Bronte’s Jane Eyre. I won’t say they’re easy to read my brain still takes a long time to process the meaning of some of the sentences but I now enjoy living with a novel for weeks or sometimes months and on the very rare occasion years, dipping in and out when I want to.  I still feel triumphant when I’ve finished a particularly difficult novel but enjoy the journey almost more than the end result. My old favourite Cornelia Funke wrote in Ink Heart:

Some books should be tasted, some devoured, but only a few should be chewed anddigested thoroughly.  

I re-read this quote several times. It took me a little while to know what it meant. I have devoured books such as the Twilight and tasted many others, but the ones that will stay with me forever I have chewed slowly and carefully taking meaning from each word and storing it in a special place in my heart.   

To find out more about tinted lenses and visual stress follow this link: http://www.bdadyslexia.org.uk/about-dyslexia/further-information/eyes-and-dyslexia.html

My First Book

Looking through my old things today I came across this book:

I remember making this; I think it was in year 2 so I couldn’t have been older than six or seven. I remember writing the story and drawing the pictures, I even remember putting the makeshift barcode on the back. It’s surprising how little my writing style has changed in around fifteen years. In Adventure under ice a brother and a sister fall into the ice and encounter all sorts of creatures there made of ice. The boy is sceptical but the girl embraces the world willingly. It ends a little disappointingly when the two run away from a witch and find a hidden door that leads them back to the safety of the woods.

Now my stories often involve a portal to a different world with a girl who is happy to believe in the magic she finds there. There are cruel creatures and fearful chases.  

Putting it simply I write fairy tales.

Good always triumphs over evil, though nowadays there are a few deaths along the way to victory but the basic premise hasn’t changed.

As well as reading for pleasure I’m going to look at writing for pleasure. I enjoy writing fairy tales and have no intention of changing that focus because writing about goblins and magical trees makes me happy.

When I was at university I took a creative writing course. I think I may have received a few good hints there but I can honestly say that it completely knocked my confidence in writing. I was in a room full of people who thought fairy tales beneath them and were far more interested in writing about politics, psychopaths and suicide. I often found myself apologising for my work or trying to add gritty realism were it just didn’t fit. I wish I could go back to that class with the confidence I’ve got now. I’d ignore their sneers and show my work proudly. 

 I’ll leave you with a quote from Niel Gaiman that I wish I’d read years ago:

The main rule of writing is that if you do it with enough assurance and confidence, you’re allowed to do whatever you like. (That may be a rule for life as well as for writing. But it’s definitely true for writing.) So write your story as it needs to be written. Write it ­honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.