I think one’s relationship with one’s vulnerability is a very delicate and precious relationship. Most people try to hide, disguise that vulnerability, and in doing that, you, I think, diminish a great source of power.
I come from a family of Russian immigrant Jews who were all big storytellers, who would get together, and one would try to top the others’ stories, and stories would get bigger and bigger. And the lying aspect, the exaggeration, would get large.
I didn’t learn how to read until I was at the end of fifth grade and 11 years old and held back.
With my fiction, I focused on chapters and overall conceptions, while in poetry, I crawled along in the trenches of each sentence, examining every word for a sign of a deeper significance.
Art’s power of persuasion resides in the small personal details of one’s own story, and if it weren’t for my struggle with dyslexia, I doubt I’d ever have become a writer or known how to teach others to write.
Repeating third grade at a new school, after having been asked to leave my old one for hitting kids who made fun of my perceived stupidity, I was placed in the ‘dummy class.’
I don’t think I’ve worked with anyone where I haven’t seen some progress. Now sometimes you can’t take someone where they want to go, not all the way, and sometimes you stop, and they do it or don’t do it on their own thereafter.
Most people try to avoid cliches. It’s my ambition in life to try to get ’em right!
Suddenly, I was reading these comics. I was looking at those bubbles, those dialogue bubbles, and suddenly there were words… recognizable words.
What I read, I read thoroughly and retain almost all of it.