My English teachers in secondary school were shit.

The only ones I remember were Mrs. M because she confiscated something from me that she eventually lost, and Mrs. K who didn’t like me and caused some chaos in my life when I was a little older. That is all I remember about my English/English Lit education from secondary school.

I’m a writer now who writes in English. What does that mean?

When I decided to write, I discovered that there was so much learning I had to do, so much catching up. Things like diagramming a sentence, or removing words that make a sentence sticky, achieving the proper balance of adverbs and passive voice in my writing. Sorting through the deluge of information that I didn’t know anything about felt like trial by fire.

There is still so much to learn, and I’ve been told that the best way to learn something is to teach it to someone else. If they get it, then I know I’ve understood it well.

Learning together

I find out something new every day, and I’m very excited to share my journey with you all. Stay tuned. I hear it’s a long road of multiple hours to the sweet spot!