Language has always been a fascination of mine. I would keep lists of names that I found important, fantasizing about their origins. I created codes and ciphers, tried to invent new languages. Oh! And my love affair with English!
I taught myself how to read and write long before my little feet ever crossed the threshold of a classroom. My handwriting has long since suffered, but my intellect is all the better for it. Books became my best friends. When school proved lacking in nice people, I turned to those trusty old books.
Larry McMurtry, R.L. Stine, Stephen King, Anne Frank…my influences spanned the genres. I read fervently anything I could get my young eyes on. Road signs, mail, The Playboy Book of Science Fiction–it did not matter what it was.
On a subway train in Washington DC, I overheard a group of students discussing their linguistics assignments. The professors of their university had asked them each to go out and find a person who spoke their chosen language of study.
One guy spoke up, “Yah, well you guys have it easy.” He listed the languages his companions were studying and then stated rather vehemently, “But how in the HELL am I supposed to find someone in Washington DC who speaks Sanskrit?”
At thirteen, I had no idea what the hell Sanskrit was, but I wanted to learn it! I wanted to learn EVERYTHING. For now, though, I’ve decided to put my trust in the study of English…perhaps in time I’ll learn other languages. Or perhaps in time Luna will…who knows…