I remember the first time I held a book that was filled with words and no pictures. I must have been four. I threw it down and cried. I was so angry because I wanted the story in that book, but it was hidden from  me.

I’m not sure how my mom handled that moment. Maybe she gave me one of my picture books or sat and read aloud to me. But somehow I must have come up with the idea that I had to learn the code if I wanted to get to the story for myself. If I didn’t, I’d have to wait for someone to unlock the mysteries for me. 

Strange that I remember that one moment, but I can’t remember when I finally learned to read on my own. Maybe that part of my education just came so naturally, so gradually because people in my life read and encourage me to read with them. 

I guess wanting to know has always been a driving force for me, so there was never a question that I wouldn’t be in love with learning, which I always equated with reading. I could never imagine not being able to research a topic or find an answer I needed because I didn’t know what the words meant. And when the subjects became harder and more complicated, I treasured my reading skills even more. They were the key to my education. They gave me the freedom to understand anything, any time. And that’s what education means to me. Freedom.

When I stumbled on an article about illiteracy in the U.S. and discovered that 33% of people in L.A. county are illiterate or low-literate, it made me want to write about illiteracy. That article was the genesis of Double Negative, a story about a boy who can barely read and who manages to earn Ds in school by eavesdropping and memorizing. 

It was a challenge for me to imagine how this boy coped, but I returned to that time when I remembered being so frustrated by that first time when I wasn’t able to decode the story because it didn’t have pictures. I used that frustration to help me create Hutchinson McQueen.

Here’s a prologue that I didn’t use in the final draft of Double Negative, but it does show Hutch’s character and the mess he’s in because he keeps making the wrong choices.

I didn’t know Blaze was going to up and quit on me like that. My safe house turned out not so safe either, so there I was . . . no place to hide out from Dee Dee and in the slammer. Talk about a crappy hand. I got it. And with the principal on one side and that priest on the other, a big pit with alligators was starting to look like an easy way out.

That’s when the priest dragged in the loony teacher to trip me up with a bunch of reading garbage, so the principal and the priest didn’t seem so bad anymore. My life was going, going, gone, and I hadn’t been laid yet. I couldn’t die before that happened.

Quote of the Week: If you don’t know your options, you don’t have any.” Diana Korte, women’s heath advocate

Have you made a few wrong choices? Do you know what your options are? What would you do if you couldn’t read?

I’m taking off for a few days, so I visited blogs on Sunday and will return to visit those who don’t post until later in the week when I return. I hope I’ll have an adventure that I can write about when I come back. Enjoy your week!