I have spent some time now working on the story I'll be writing for NaNoWriMo. Okay, I've also spent a lot of time in tears. This is the most emotional thing I've written since I wrote Hurts Like Hell, for Fan Fic. Some voices need to have their story told. I only hope that I can do it justice.
So half way through October, and making ready for the NaNoWriMo (National novel writing month project) This will be my fourth time taking part. This time I am stretching my reach, alternate history. The research has left me in tears most days... revolutions are not for the weak. I hope I can do justice to this novel. (hell I just hope I can finish!)
It started as a dream, long ago, far away. (No not like star wars.) Years ago, when I was diagnosed with dyslexia, and became part of one of the first national studies on the subject. So much of what they know now, was learned back then. I didn't think about that back then, all I thought about was; why am I different? Why can't I see, think and do what the other kids are doing? It was very confusing, and very painful.
Other people had no trouble learning to spell! They had no problem figuring out how to write a sentence, and have it read without the reader giving you the 'poor dear' glance. Like a number of other dyslexics, I hid my failure to conform in bad penmanship. Even after I started taking special classes, I hid my inability to spell. From the time I was in second grade, all through the rest of my elementary education, I took extra classes. Some after school, some on weekends and some summer classes.
Back then they labeled us, not Dyslexic at first. That term came sometime while I was part of the study. The word that was used back then was REMEDIAL. (I hate that word.) It felt like a weight on my little shoulders, keeping me down. Sometimes if felt like the educators, the very people who were supposed to be helping, were causing the most harm. They would stand there, shake there heads, and wring their hands. (She'll never amount to anything, best not ask much of her.)
My Mom came to the recuse, with ideas and incentives. And without judgement. She set me on a road that lead me to the world of books... gave me a love for literature. And more than that, she challenged me. I began writing short stories when I was nine. The first was Tim Cory. Not my best work, but it was an exercise in breaking down the walls that the establishment had closed around me.
In High School, my gal pal Char and I wrote Thunderbird's are Go stories. Karen and Pam and I wrote Star Trek tales.... and Vampire stories out of Collinsport...My girl friends over looked the spelling errors. Sometimes I came up with the ideas, and they did the writing.
The internet introduced me to new friends, and fellow writers. I joined Fan Fiction... and began to pour ideas out. Then came Nano... write a novel in a month. And Syd, (what would I do without you?) challenged me to take a story I'd done as fan fiction and give it a new face, a new place. To tell the story that came before, as it should have been told.
That story became Forged in the Maze, and the beginning of my Forged Series. Two are up on Kindle... one more is being proofed... and book four is being put together. It was a long road getting here. I didn't get here on my own, I had a lot of help. Family, friends, educators, and guides that no one ever sees. But my dream of being a writer is now a reality, and I too am Forged.
Patricia M. Bryce is a short story author, novelist and cosplayer.
She has appeared as Patricia M. Rose in the anthology, Dreams of Steam:
Gadgets, edited by Kimberly Richardson and published by Dark Oak Press.
When she's not busy writing, she's off being a playtron up at Bristol
Renaissance Faire. You can learn more at
https://www.facebook.com/PaisleyRose1 My photo on my Author's page is by TGDavison Photography