Writing, spelling and . . . me!

I adore writing, it is my passion and always has been. I was that girl in class who wasn’t paying attention because I was busily writing a story – finding it much more interesting than long division or chemical formulas.

I would watch TV shows and think I could do better, sending off scripts and ideas to the BBC before I was even into double figures. I became a youth reporter for the Parish Magazine when I was about 12, going off to council meetings with my notepad and pen to report on proposed changes to the local playground.

Then, I became that moody teenager pouring out all my angst into dark and surreal poetry. Writing was my life - school was an inconvenience that got in the way. I had written a full-length screenplay by the time I was 16 and sent it off to Granada Productions. I got my first real taste of rejection and learnt that sadly, it is the dark and upsetting flipside of an otherwise very bright and shiny coin.

I don’t remember a time when there wasn’t a script or novel in progress. Once out in the ‘real’ world of work, I wrote highly persuasive emails, pamphlets, work contracts. There have been so many times in my life when I’ve written myself out of trouble. How many times has a well-worded email dissipated the anger of an unhappy client or cleared up a misunderstanding? At university I didn’t always understand the question or know the facts, but I could write such a well-constructed essay I got a high grade. They even made me a study skills advisor helping others to write better essays. I’m not clever, but I can write like I am. The power of well-chosen words must never be underestimated.

My only frustration is that my spelling is awful, always has been. My grammar, word choice and vocabulary are strong but putting letters in the right order to form words has always been a struggle. Double letters are a mystery – this is unfortunate for a writer (or is it writter?)

Is that a P or a number 9? Is that a D or a B? I know there’s an I and an E in there somewhere but goodness knows where or which way around.

Before the days of word processing my pages would be full of correction fluid and crossings out, my brain working so fast and my pen struggling to keep up. My creative flow being interrupted when I tried to work out double letters or whether that should be an S instead of a C. My work constantly restricted by the dilemma of whether to use the best word possible, or one I could spell. Most of the time I had no idea whether I’d spelt words correctly or not, without the wiggly red line underneath it was impossible to tell. I’d give teachers handwritten stories riddled with errors and get low grades, but if I had the option to read it out in class – everyone would be transfixed and immersed into the wonderful world of my imagination. I’d get an A.

I was one of the last children in my class at primary school who could spell her name. I made sure I always sat next to Charlotte Davies so I could copy her. If she was ever off sick, I was in trouble. My lovely drawing would go up on the wall without a name, or with everyone looking at it trying to work out who ‘Carlot’ was.

I first got a typewriter when I was about 9. An old-fashioned manual one. I loved it, banged away on those keys for hours, but got through bottles and bottles of correction fluid. Nearly wore out the backspace key.

It wasn’t until I got my first computer – aged about 14, that the absolute joy of writing and being able to express myself truly opened up. It corrected my spelling and highlighted the words I had spelt wrong. For the first time my writing could keep up with my brain, meaning that I didn’t forget sentences halfway through. I could edit things without having to use correction fluid or rub things out. I could use any word I liked regardless of whether I could spell it. It was a revelation. My writing was finally free, and I’ve been tapping away ever since. One published novel, a short story collection, blogs, a published essay, other novels in various stages of coming to life – my love of writing is unstoppable, and with it my enduring love of the word processor.

Am I dyslexic? It was a different world when I was growing up in the 80s. There was less awareness. I was never tested as a child and it is expensive to take the test as an adult – results often inaccurate because of years of learning to compensate. The curious thing is that I’ve never had a problem with reading, so I don’t really fit the pattern. All I know is that writing is my passion, and the word processor is what truly set it free.