The first thing I recall losing was my haptic sense, the ability to field just one page from a stack. While this may not seem like a significant loss, think what a hindrance it might be for a writer who wants to quickly thumb through a manuscript. It hobbles my beta reads for friends.
The second that I recall was glasses-less eyesight, the dry eye, enlisted by hours in front of a computer screen, set in. Eye drops and prescription reading glasses were added to my writer-reader armaments.
And then came the cataract surgery to make amends.
Now I have one long distance eye – for driving and sight-seeing – and one short distance eye – for writing and reading and cutting onions.
Who cuts the onions, the weeping task, in your home?
I’m now in revolt against the imminent lapse of my ingrained spelling finesse… This has long been a talent, a gift, the one that allowed me to win the all-school spelling bee when I was only in second grade.
It can cause quite a stir, an innate sense of embarrassment when I re-read what I wrote yesterday – or ten minutes ago.
I’d grown used to the nominal mistake of typing ‘to’ when I intended ‘the’. Those are inconsequential to story, though essential to English sentence structure. Their use doesn’t add or detract from meaning – and, unfortunately, grammar check doesn’t catch them.
Fortunately, I have a bevy of beta readers, editors, and friends. And, I can rely on myself and Natural Reader, a program which I use to read my manuscript to me. I highly recommend it.
At least I haven’t lost my good sense to write every day. I follow my muse. I cooperate with her.
Because I can.