I have always loved coming up with stories and ideas for good books.  I dreamed big about dragons and magic.  I had stories in my head about talking animals and fanciful forest.  Many people around me said that I was dreamy eyed but had creative spark that would take me far.  But, as a child I struggled with reading comprehension.  Dyslexia and a poor understanding of basic skills like spelling made writing a huge challenge.

The stories in my head and the characters that talked to me through them were a great escape form the real world, but I never had any intentions of putting them to paper.  I was horribly embarrassed by my spelling, and dreaded writing reports for school.  It got to the point where I was intentionally making my handwriting illegible, so that no one would notice my numerous spelling mistakes.  I am not afraid to admit that spelling (and now poor handwriting) is still something that I am struggling with, and I am still learning to catch my own mistakes.

In the forth grade I had an amazing teacher.  Her name was Mrs. Hadaway.  She was the first to see through my mistakes and into what was then a fledgling talent in writing.  I remember turning in my report on Pocahontas at the beginning of class one day.  I had worked really hard on it and although I didn't think that it was very good, I had hopes that it didn't have as many mistakes as other papers I had done.  After class that day Mrs. Hadaway asked me to talk to her.  She was holding my report.  I remember the drawing of Pocahontas I did for the cover, I had mimicked a drawing of the Indian princess that was on the cover of one of the books I was using for research.  I didn't want to look at Mrs. Hadaway so I just looked at my drawing instead.  I know that at that point in my life I had not had very many teachers but she was my favorite so far, and I hated disappointing her.  Little did I know that she was to remain my favorite teacher, even throughout my college career.

When I got to her desk she didn't ask me to sit down or anything like that, she just looked at me and said, "Angela, this is very good.  I'm impressed.  It is a little short and there are mistakes that we will need to work on, but it is so well written that I'm going to give it an A."

It's odd, but that one sentence changed my life forever.  That teacher changed my life forever.  Now, at this point, I still didn't conceder growing up to become a writer.  But I gained immeasurable confidents in myself despite my shortcomings.  Writing became easer and something that I actually looked forward to.  Now it is an indispensable part of my life, so much so that I would like to make it my career.  But this is a recent decision of mine.  I left High School with dreams of broadcast communication in my head, then entered college with art burning a hole in my soul.  After years of art projects and switching concentrations, juggling jobs, and simply getting burnt out with school in general I have returned to an old friend; writing.  I look back on everything between Mrs. Hadaway and now and see the one constant throughout it all is my family and writing.  And, I see now that secretly I have always wanted to be a writer, but never pursued it seriously because, I was afraid that due to my dyslexia, poor spelling, and extreme self-consciousness about my writhing in general, that I couldn't get published.    

I'm ready now, to live out my secret dream.  Thank you Mrs. Hadaway, I won't let you down.