I’m dyslexic. As you may not be surprised to hear, learning to read wasn’t easily accomplished by me.

I’m an author. I have self-published MAYNELY A MYSTERY — a cozy mystery set on Mayne Island.

How did I do that? How did I evolve from a reluctant reader to an author in love with words?

Well, let’s see…

My parents were ardent readers. My dad always had at least four books beside his bed — a bookmark in each. My parents read to each other at the supper table — they read to me. They shared books such as Good Morning, Miss Dove.

In elementary school, I had a devoted remedial teacher who focused on my gift of imagination to encourage me to learn.

In junior high school, I had an engaging English teacher who further developed my passion for story by offering books such as The Crucible by Arthur Miller, Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy Ethan Forme by Edith Wharton, and Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.

She introduced me to John Steinbeck and I fell in love. I spent more and more time with him. I joined him as he and his French poodle Charley travelled the United States. He shared his stories and I wanted to share mine.

I wrote throughout my awkward teens — endless stories.

Writing became like breathing. Such a part of who I was that I couldn’t recall a time when I was without a pen.

I moved from Steinbeck’s books to others — many, many others. I forgot his voice.

Lately, however, I pulled East of Eden from my bookshelf. I rediscovered his voice and the debt I owe him.

Join me on my journey, visit:  www.oknitting.com