As a child, I always excelled at math and science, normally top of my class. It always came naturally to me, and I genuinely enjoyed it. But, reading and writing I was horrible at it. I always assumed I was just dumb and was always told to try harder and be more like so and so. But no matter how hard I tried those letters would not stay in line, those words I just read would not make sense. And when you do not understand that is not normal for everyone else, you do not know how to explain the problem. It wasn’t until 5th grade that I was diagnosed with dyslexia.

Even though I couldn’t read well, I was a storyteller and would make up fanciful stories to tell my friends and family. Riding on Dragons, finding treasures with pirates, fighting lions with turtles dressed like ninjas, I would make up stories about anything and everything. I loved to create fantasy worlds and had the desire to share them with others.

Growing up with dyslexia, or any learning disability is not easy, as I am sure some of you know. Most of elementary school, and well, most of school in general, I was told I was stupid, and I would never achieve anything in life. Before being diagnosed, my teachers treated me as if I was lazy, or trying to make things difficult. It made me not even want to try.

But for the love for stories, and maybe partly to escape the world that was confusing and hard, I kept creating and living in these fantasy worlds, sharing them with all who listened. It was where life seemed safe and correct, where things could be better than they were in real life.

After 5th grade I was so excited as I finally knew that I wasn’t just stupid, I just learned differently. In 6th grade, I was placed in a class for “kids like me” and I was so happy to know there were others who had troubles like I do. But these kids were not dyslexic, they did not have a class for those kids. I was placed in the class for the “other kids,” kids with anger management issues, attention disorders, or any issues deemed not suitable for a regular class, and within the first couple weeks of class, a student threw a desk at the teacher. This was the first of many issues in that class.

I retreated into my shell, this environment was worse than struggling in normal classes and intensified my fear of trying. I know I was not the only student in these classes that had this issue, but they would not put us back in regular classes. My reading and writing plummeted even more while in middle school, and I barely passed into high school. While reading and writing were bad, I continued to excel at my other studies, and it made it look like I just didn’t want to try, and maybe in part I did not, it was hard, those classes were not conducive to learning, and other changes in my life caused further shutdowns.

During this time, my parents went through a nasty divorce and, as it does for all children, upended my world even more. But there was a light, in high school I was put in a class to help improve my state testing scores for reading and writing, in the other subjects I was already getting high marks. This teacher was trained in how to help students with dyslexia and other learning disabilities. This teacher understood my struggles, helped me a lot with reading, and showed me that reading could be fun. A teacher, whose name I wish I remembered, so I could thank them properly now!

The first books I truly read myself and for myself were The Death Gate Cycle series by Margaret Wise and Tracy Hickman, two names I will never forget (and I forget names a lot 😞) and always be thankful for. I still have the first book, Dragon Wing, or the pieces that are left of it after taking me several months of reading to finally finish it, on my bookshelf. And no, I did not only read it on the toilet. I had that book in my hands constantly, I just had to constantly keep rereading sections because things would jumble up and get confusing. But I never stopped, the story came alive to me, and I loved it.

After I finished that first book I was hooked, and rarely was without a book in hand. I could not tell you how long it took for the next book, but eventually, it got easier and easier to read. It was not that the words stopped getting jumbled, but I started to understand what was happening and learned to work around it. This made reading easier and more accessible for me, so I kept on reading.

At some point in high school, I tried creating my own story. It was not good. It was just bad. I might be brave enough to post it someday, assuming I still have it. This story was written for others. Friends who learned what I was trying to do would ask to be in it and so I would change the story for them, and try to cater for them, it was not for myself.

Needless to say, the story fell apart. It was poorly written, the plot was non-existent, and the grammar and spelling were terrible, spellcheck was not a thing in Word back then, yes, I am old. I was devastated, I thought I would finally be able to put a story to “paper” and share it, but this was not something I wanted to share, this was not something I could call acceptable at all. There was a story there, but I let it get twisted by a drive to appease others and my complete lack of skill or understanding of writing.

Years later, grown and many more books under my belt I started a new story. One for me that I wanted to write, one that I let build and flow from me. I have learned a lot of things, I have made a lot of mistakes, but I will be true to the stories. And while I have learned to deal with my dyslexia in reading, I discovered that it affects me in a whole new way when writing. I am still learning to handle it but Read Aloud and spelling/grammar checkers have helped a lot.

So, we come to this website you have found yourself at. I took on the project of Struble Books for several reasons. One is that I wanted to increase my knowledge and understanding of website building and managing (I still have a lot to learn there). Another, I wanted a place where I could share my worlds with others, in a way that I wanted to do it. I know there are sites for sharing your stories and they are wonderful, but I wanted something different. I wanted something, me, and so I figured what could be more ME than creating a site myself? This has of course come with downfalls, like I spend more time building/breaking/fixing my site than I do writing sometimes, but in the end, I get to make something unique and personal for my worlds.
  
I hope to show everyone that it does not matter what you are told, if you believe it and work hard at it you can achieve it! My imagination never quit, I learned to read, I learned to write, I learned to build a website, and now I can share what I love doing with others, creating worlds and stories.

I truly hope you enjoy what I am creating, and I hope it inspires you to reach for that dream that others told you was stupid, impossible, or out of reach for you.