Reading frightened me. I trembled in front of the chalkboard as my first-grade teacher demanded I read “a” and “an” out loud to the class. *
shudder* Even after months of “learning” those small words, the comprehension just wasn’t there; the pathways in my brain weren’t connecting. Those seemingly big words were just odd shapes that I couldn’t commit to my tiny memory. I
wanted to read, desperately so, but for some unknown reason, I couldn’t grasp the written correlation to the spoken words.
After years of struggling, the powers that be at school finally forced me to attend remedial reading classes. Mortified, I cut class and ducked into the bathroom everyday, huddling there in a stall, feet drawn up, praying they’d never find me. But one day, my fourth-grade teacher (my first hero!) took pity on me. Instead of forcing me to return to those classes, he tutored me during recess using his own secrets and shortcuts to help me achieve better comprehension. But to me, it seemed he’d set his magic hand on my little head and healed the broken connections deep inside my brain.
Then smart speed-reader Katy moved to town, one of those kids who didn’t just read books, she devoured them. To my surprise, she befriended me, and that was the beginning of a summer vacation that changed my life forever, that in a sense brought me here to the publication path...
One hot, humid day, Katy’s mother took us to our small-town church turned library. I can vividly recall climbing the stoop to that whitewashed building, stepping inside the dusty, sunlit room, and the old wooden boards creaking beneath my small sandaled feet. The scent of aged wood and leather-bound books hung heavy in the air, while rickety bookshelves soared up to the beamed ceiling. It was cool and pin-drop quiet in there with a gray-headed woman seated where the church altar had once been. She wore bifocals perched on her nose, and she often frowned and pressed a gnarly finger to her lips. “Shhh…” she’d repeatedly scold then busy herself with stamping library cards.
That was the day Katy introduced me to Nancy Drew. Using the reading methods my teacher had taught me, I went home, curled up with one of those yellow, hardbound mysteries, and at last embraced the joys of reading. So went the summer. Katy and I lived at that library, hauling out stacks of Nancy Drew books, Hardy Boys, and finally, graduating to Judy Blume. Dare I say I never once accrued past-due fines?
By the age of 13, I’d moved on to Kathleen E. Woodiwiss, rest her talented soul. Then came the day in high school I got caught with
The Wolf and the Dove disguised behind the open pages of my biology book. Yeah, I got into major doo-doo, as I’d already been chastised one too many times for reading in lieu of working on class projects. The livid teacher kicked me out of her class, but the principal enrolled me in an alternate one that sometimes allowed free reading time. :D
Now and then, I wonder what that teacher—or even Katy—would think if she read my depraved version of the infamous bandit Robin Hood in
A Wanton’s Thief and
A Gypsy’s Thief (Ellora’s Cave). Or
Moonlite Mirage based on my research trip to the HBO-featured BunnyRanch bordello in Carson City, Nevada. I hope my biology teacher realizes her efforts were secretly appreciated, and that I gained a knowledge of anatomy and physiology that later came in very handy, not only in obtaining my nursing degree but in writing
erotic romances. ;)
I don’t know where I’d be today without the love of reading and writing, or without those influences in my childhood. Thanks to all my teachers, to Katy, and to the kick-ass sleuth Nancy Drew, all of whom took part in leading a vulnerable little girl from the terrifying world of incomprehension in reading, all the way to published author.
So what sort of things inspired you to read or write? Whatever they might be, remember, if you still can’t seem to get your foot in the publishing door, don’t go hide in a bathroom stall. Keep persevering, keep reading, keep writing, and kick that door down. Because I’m proof anyone can attain their goals if they persist and truly want it. :)
Oh, btw, I hope you’ll head on over to Myspace at
http://www.myspace.com/titanialadley and
befriend me…just like Katy did all those years ago.
Posts
