Tag: dyslexia

Writing

Do what terrifies you

Alexandra Diane
Bloganuary writing prompt
What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
View all responses

I’ve taken bold steps like skydiving, leaving my old life behind to live in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, and transitioning my career from something I’ve done since I was fifteen years old – to teaching teenagers. However, I find nothing as terrifying as sharing my writing with the world. If skydiving takes a wrong turn, I’m dead. If living in a foreign country doesn’t work for me (which it really, really, really, didn’t) I could just return home. And my students will eventually graduate, leaving whatever memories of me to just that, memories. But when I bare my heart and soul into my work, I am leaving myself exposed to criticism from the world. I am allowing strangers a chance to read my work and comment on what I’ve shared. 

Growing up, I would write short stories and scripts. I didn’t know how to write in proper screenplay format, but that didn’t stop me. I would warn whoever read my work that I was still learning, and they were my friends. They didn’t know any better. But something happened when I reached college. I still wrote as an escape, especially from math class, but I stopped sharing my work with nearly everyone. I went from sharing my work with anyone who had an email address to just a very select group of people. I became terrified of two things: 

  1. People not liking my writing and telling me it was trash.
  2. I didn’t want anyone to know I had severe dyslexia. 

I was an awful speller and had atrocious grammar. Part of me feels that the public school system failed me. However, after working in the system, I know it did, but it wasn’t the teachers’ fault. So much red tape ties their hands that it is nearly impossible for them to actually teach. But that is a story for a different day. I didn’t become secure with my writing until I graduated from college. Even then, I had to break out of the technical academic writing and return to the creative style I love most. 

My biggest breakthrough was working with my writing life partner that I’ve tortured for nearly the last decade. We would spend hours going over my work in google docs. Watching him live, edit my writing, and explain what I’ve done wrong was better than any degree I could have achieved. He helped me understand the points that I missed in school. I’m sure they were taught at some point, but my young brain didn’t absorb the information. Another thing he did was tell me when my work was trash. But he didn’t just say, “Alex, this is shit.” He would say, “Alex, this is shit because….” and we would work on expanding and correcting the issues. Our edit sessions have whittled because of time as we have grown older. Kids have gotten in the way of my hobbies. He, apparently, has something called a life. However, he has not been released from his blood oath of helping me finish my work 🙂 

Time, care, and attention is what pushed me through my darkest moments as a writer. I’ve learned time and time again that the masses may not enjoy my work. However, I learned to appreciate those who like my work. Maybe one day I’ll be a famous author. Maybe I won’t. But I won’t let my fears trap me again. 

Writing

Out with the old and in with the new

Alexandra Diane

There are days when I would like to clear my writing history and start over new, but the little voice inside my head says DON’T! I’ve spent the majority of my life filling journals with stories and passing them along, warts and all, to my friends to read. I had no shame in letting people I trusted read my darkest thoughts even though they were complete fiction. But never did I really have the guts to pass it along to a stranger.

I had the hardest time in school letting teachers read my work. Ninety percent of the time, I was embarrassed that my dyslexia would show, and they would think I wasn’t smart enough to be in their class. There are days when I feel like that with my site. I wonder who would want to read the ramblings of a crazy person trying to write a novel with as much detail as you would find on your TV screen. Sometimes I get nervous that my stories are lost in translation, and the readers cannot follow. I want them to be an active audience, not a passive one that will forget the story the moment they put it down.

I want people to read my stories and tell me they were terrified. One of my mother’s co-workers told her that she would never reread my writing, and it wasn’t because she saw a typo or a misplaced comma, but it was because it gave her nightmares. When I heard that, I literally (and I do mean literally) jumped for joy. That was the best compliment I have been given. The second best was a co-worker who read my work said I was fucked up. Usually, that could be considered a bit harsh, but he was expecting princesses and bunny rabbits without the blood, guts, and gore. They really gave me a push to keep writing and to keep sharing.

I love writing dark and twisted stories that will haunt the reader long after they’ve put down their tablet. But the only way this is going to happen is if I keep up my old stories, no matter how much I might cringe. They might not be the best quality, but everyone starts somewhere. Eventually, I won’t feel like they are scars but stepping stones.