What we take for granted

I find it slight ironic that I am writing about what I take for granted within a literary world.

Anyway, one of the most obvious things is apparent as a sit at my desk. Directly in front of me is about a dozen books, and a couple hundred more lie on either side of me. While I am working I will often randomly stop and gra a book from the shelf to either read a little and relax or to look something up. This overabundance of, not just information, but also tales and worlds not our own is probably the one thing I most take for granted within our culture. The ability to have the lore of not only the Greeks but also the Norse and the Finnish and a thousand others within grasp is beyond comprehension to a non-literate society.

Of Myth and Memory

Memory is an interesting thing. If I put my mind to it I can memorize almost anything, though it may take me a long time. Sometimes I am able to create some mnemonic to help, but usually I just mash all the information into a single blob and draw from it as I need to. I friend I have, on the other hand, is capable of hearing a story once and reciting it back in near identical form, though she usually improves it. There seems to be some genetic predeposition to being a bard.

Pre-writing Memories

On my pre-writing memories (PWM): I honestly cannot come up with any PFM, nor can I think of the word I used to annoy my parents with (the second part of the query). I have always been a voracious reader and have written much. The earliest memory I can place with distinction involving writing or lack there of is of me, in Kindergarten, going over my letters. There is a second memory that I now think of. During preschool (this may have been the same time I was in kindergarten, though I am not sure) I went through the classroom and wrote the names of many things down. The next day, upon returning, I could not read anything I had written, whether for lack of reading skills or poor handwriting, I do not know.
The only memories prior to that time are vague images of myself, mostly results of photographs of me as a child. Absolutely no thoughts accompany those images beyond any tags describing the image, all of which were added at some later time in my mind.

Apology

I apologize to all those who read my other blogs and are annoyed at my constant addition of new blogs, but this one is for class.