I’ve loved the sounds of words since I was a child, and I have nostalgic memories of looking at and reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I discovered that I enjoyed writing when I was in sixth grade, but the problem at the time was that I hated reading. The irony (now) is that I’m an English teacher! I feel for my students who hate reading because I understand that hatred; the difference between me then and me now is that I know my interests, and I have more persistence when I’m made to read something that makes me want to hit my head against a wall.
I’ve been a bit of an oddball my entire life. I remember when I was a child I would sit in front of the sliding glass door and watch the dust in the air: in the sunlight I could see the dust, and in the shade, it seemed to disappear. Then I would think to myself, “I wish I was dust so I could disappear.” I wasn’t morbidly wishing to be dead; I was just contemplating powers of invisibility while watching dust and then envying that dust–seriously how many kids contemplate dust?! When I was in college, I enjoyed comparing myself to Marilyn from The Munsters because on the outside I look quite “normal,” but I’ve always felt a strong connection to others who don’t seem to fit in. I can always tell if people are starting to see what I’m like when they start calling me “unique,” “different,” or any other comparable I’m-not-trying-to-be-a-jerk-while-calling-you-weird descriptors. There’s been an advantage to all this, I have a colorful imagination!
I hope you enjoy this blog! It’s just me trying to get my ideas out of my head in ways that make sense, communicate, and entertain you.