Confession: I’m a dyslexic.
I know, the irony is probably killing you right now, and you are probably thinking about shunning me due to my ambitions of being a writer. Well, I won’t stop you.
But for those who have stayed, I thank you. It really is a stupid handicap; the words I read, or things I see appear to be scattered all over the place and I do not see them how they are. This has been my vulnerability for all my life. It really sucks, because it prevented me from the aspirations that I wanted to fulfill: being a fighter pilot in the Air Force and being a cop. Hell, I even had trouble with my music courses in college trying to read music. But thank the maker, I had my grandfather’s jazz ear.
So now I aspire to be an author. I have written a full length 114,000 word novel, as well as a 10,000 word short story that I just submitted for publishing last week. I can only hope that they accept it, but the wait goes on. In the meantime, I have joined a really cool creative writing group, and continue my career recording audio books.
I still struggle with dyslexia. At times it makes me feel like an idiot; turning my own mind against itself, making it hard to convince people of what you saw or read about. My father had dyslexia and was able to overcome it. He is now a retired aerospace engineer who worked on such projects as the Apollo missions, F-117 stealth fighter, the tomahawk missile, and even the F-22 Raptor. I’m pretty proud of my papa and his résumé.
You might not know this, but there are a lot of dyslexics in entertainment and history: Robin Williams, Jay Leno, Terry Goodkind, Steven Spielberg, and hell, Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein!
I think I am in good company, so I will journey on!