Born to Be Write…

Sometimes…read that 24/7…I get a little goofy in my thought process…I’m not sure exactly where this came from…but…I think it was from a comment I read…I was a born writer…and I thought…not me…I was born illiterate…and the rest…they say…is definitely a spoof…
Born to Be Write…
Unlike some…I wasn’t born a writer…it went something like this…
My God…she’s illiterate…I can almost feel my mother’s disappointment as she heard those words shortly after my birth…she can’t read a word…she can’t even make her letters…stupid baby
And…things didn’t change anytime soon…
Frustrating months followed…despite the best efforts of all concerned…my reading skills did not begin to develop until I was probably four years old…even then…it was just a few words…here and there…I could write my name…but…that was about it…
Although…I know it was difficult…the decision was made…shortly after my sixth birthday…I would be placed in an institution for the functionally illiterate…AKA…first grade
For the next twelve years…I endured test upon test…and received appropriate interventions based on the results…exercises in spelling and grammar…were given to build up my vocabulary and make sense of my thoughts…
I made progress…and was soon to be released…but…I still had the occasional misplaced modifier…and dangling participle…I wasn’t ready to go it alone…my parents found another institution…college
The tests were more difficult…the interventions more strenuous…after checking in and out of several institutions…looking for the one best suited to my needs…I finally settled in…and treatment began in earnest…
They gave me the best…teachers and textbooks…but…despite their interventions…I still suffer from the heartbreak of grammar faux pas…from time to time…
And…yet…I write…daily…
Jane
Note…I am currently undergoing comma therapy with a professional editor…and rely heavily on massive dosages of grammar and spell check…just to make it through the page

Her Voice Was Changing…

Everything I…or anyone else for that matter…write has a voice…I hear it very distinctly as I read the page…I know the voice I like to write in…it has a soothing melody…a bit like rolling ocean waves…a friend of mine who sees life in colors…sees turquoise and lavender when reading those pages…
I like that image…I like that someone can see my voice as a color…and it’s very cool…that my favorite voice takes on my favorite colors…
To write in that voice…I have to be in a certain mood…a certain place in my life…confident…sure…true…and then it just flows…and I love it…I love writing…I love living…
I haven’t been there lately…I’ve been out of sorts…and my writing has reflected it…even though I tried…I tried really hard…to give it the same voice…it came out with a twang…a bit nasally…like singing with a cold…
Why am I out of sorts…nothing dramatic…it’s just as easy for me to get out of sorts when things are going well…than when they aren’t…sometimes it’s actually easier…I’m not always sure how to handle the good times…strangely…they can be frightening…
I found myself engaging in other people’s drama…seeking it out…at least that’s what Bertha said…explaining that I wasn’t comfortable with my life at the moment…I was seeking distraction…instead of letting my life evolve as it was meant to…
So…I’ve struggled with my writing…trying from my place of frustration…to get my voice to sound like I wanted it to…
Bertha…gently…and when I say gently…I mean she hit me over the head with a skillet…explained that rather than trying to force my voice…it would be so much easier to do the things that I know will help me back to the place where the turquoise and lavender voice flows…
Nothing gives me hope like Granny’s Buttercups!
Time in the contemplation chair…this time sitting in the sunshine in Granny’s rocker…visiting Granny’s buttercups…picking a few…digging a few…I feel my voice changing…softening…thank you Granny…

Jane