Spoon, and the lesson of carpe diem

After high school I went to San Diego State and majored in Comparative Literature. It seemed like the right thing to do considering my love of prose and poetry. I liked to write, pure and simple. Once school started I had all the writing classes I could ever hope for, and I felt good about my choice. However, as time went along, I realized that although I loved the learning process, the writing challenges, and the creative outlets, my only employment option would be that of a teacher. My aspirations were more towards becoming an author of murder mysteries and ghost stories, or becoming a traveling photo journalist for National Geographic - perhaps both.

I toyed with the idea of dropping out of college and becoming a travel agent, just so I could get the travel opportunities needed to start freelancing in travel journalism. I also explored the idea of broadcast journalism. All these ideas of what I could do for a career had nothing to do with what my degree could offer. I had to change my focus of studies, and pretty much start over. I just didn't know where to focus.

Then a job opportunity came along that had nothing to do with school, and I did end up dropping out in my 3rd year. Telling my Creative Writing professor I was dropping out mid-way through that semester brought out a sad emotional response from her. She confessed I had been the most promising student she had come through in a long while. As we spoke, we both began to tear up. I had never seen that coming, and it broke my heart. It made me question all the decisions I was making, but at that point I had already accepted the job, and had officially withdrawn from the university. Speaking with her that day was just a last formality.

The love of writing never left me though. I continued to write poetry, short fiction, children's stories, and I even branched out into song writing. I also always had the intention of writing that novel, but life has a way of forcing new priorities upon you. The singers, songwriters, novelists, journalists, and artists often have to put their "hobbies" aside for "real" jobs. I got married, had bills to pay, and then a child to raise - so those took center stage.

A decade later, just when I thought I would get time again to start writing that novel, I had my second child. This time a new twist was added to my plate... I suffered a stroke during labor.

As soon as I left the hospital and came home, I presented with what I now know to be Anomic Aphasia. I had trouble putting together full sentences. I stuttered a lot as I searched to find the right words, especially nouns, and I would often say a phrase that was not correct. For example, I remember wanting my older son to "shut the front door". In my mind that is what I said, but what came out, while struggling and stuttering, was "shut the suitcase".  It was horribly frustrating to speak with people.  I wanted to remember things the way I used to, speak the way I used to, and feel comfortable. But I always felt broken. This problem displayed itself in my writing as well.  So I stopped.

That was 21 years ago. In 2021 I published two books in what became The Douglas Town Chronicles. The third was published in the summer of 2022.

It has gotten better over time, but the struggles never fully went away. My verbal communication skills have recovered about 95%. I will still get flummoxed if I am overstimulated, stressed out, or drinking, because I just can't get out what I need to say. 

With writing, I suffer from slight dyslexia (aka transposing), I can't remember how to spell a lot of words I used to know so well (could be just lack of practice), and most notably, I will often times type something different than what I am thinking (often leaving out connective words altogether). I have to go back to re-read and re-read through what I've written before I send off a message, or post something, but even then, it isn't until the next day (with fresh eyes) that I go back and realize my errors. It could be as simple as using the wrong form of a word that sounds the same phonetically, or just the wrong word entirely (as an example: here vs hear; the vs they; where vs were).

So, it's a bit discouraging, now that I am finally back to a point in my life where I can pursue that murder mystery or ghost story, that I find it such a struggle. I took for granted a skill that was so effortless to me at one point - always assuming there would be time later, but life is chaos, and we should never assume. Carpe diem, people. CARPE DIEM!

For instance, I had been chosen at my high school graduation to speak, even though I was not the Valedictorian of our class. I had been chosen because I wrote a good speech, and I was capable of delivering it eloquently. 

Now I struggle with the word to describe that silver thingy you use for cereal... you know, it has like a scoop at one end of a handle... you can use it for soup. Dang, it's right there on the edge of my... my what? What's the rest of that phrase? Edge? No, that's not right. TIP! Tip of my tongue! 

AH HA! Spoon.