As a child, I discovered that I have a condition that makes reading very difficult. Words were outlined in vibrating neon lights, and the lines would flow across the page like hairy caterpillars. It wasn’t until I was almost 10 that I could read at a functional level. The difficulties that I found on the page at first were paralyzing. Once I decided that I was tired of fighting the constant war between my eyes and the shimmering squiggly lines on the paper, reading became a puzzle I was determined to solve. I would read and read, sometimes just one page over and over again. I found a love for words through this battle, and soon I began writing my own. I enrolled in every writing class I could and started reading books before bed, sometimes for hours. I think there is some poetic justice in my story. The young boy who couldn’t read fell in love with words.