Well here we go I am starting a blog. An explanation of the title may be a good start. Educated people will probably disagree with it and probably with good reason because I'm sure there are 100s of things that can be wrong when you write. I see myself as a teller of stories not an English Literature Graduate. I have the utmost respect for the story tellers who write with a full knowledge of the English language (Authors) but I didnt receive a proper education due to what is now known as Dyslexia. This left me with the stigma of not been able to read or write properly. Quite a drawback for a wannabe writer you might think; and for 45 years it was. Then an American gal from the deep south entered my lonely existence and turned my world upside down. Her name was Beverly White Tate and she was a Radiology Transcriptionist. I of course did not know what that was at the time and how it was set to alter my life. In reality it meant she could type at 150 words a minute error free. As my writing was still a thing I shared with nobody for fear of being laughed at like back in school, this didn't mean a lot to me. I just knew she was very clever at what she did.
The next few years saw her move to England, Marry me and settle in Leeds. To her dismay she found that her line of work didn't exist in this country and found herself at a bit of a loose end. One night I was tapping out the first couple of pages of what I thought was a short story when she walked into the room.
"What's that" she enquired, I immediately turned off the computer so she would not see what I had written down.
"Why did you do that" was her next enquiry. I explained to her about my phobia about people seeing my work. She understood but still insisted on seeing it using the husband and wife should not have secrets ploy that always gets women what they want. To cut a long story short she liked what she read and asked if she could keep reading as I was writing. She kept encouraging me to carry on and before I knew what had happened I had wrote Atkinson's Administration. So by now Bev = Mews. Thing was I was typing using two fingers and that and prolific writing don't sit easily together. I purchased a "you talk it types sort of thing" for my computer but having a rather pronounced Yorkshire accent It could not understand me and too often the microphone thingy bounced off the wall in frustration. Then came the breakthrough Bevie said why don't you write it in longhand and let me type it up for you. It doesn't matter about the spelling or grammar mistakes I will take care of that. "There is no wrong just write" and that is the mantra I now work to. I write the stories and she makes sure you can read them. A good team I think.
