Clare Coulson. Photo / John-Paul Pochin

Clare Coulson. Photo / John-Paul Pochin

I am a writer. I am a linguist. I am dyslexic. The first two go hand in hand, but the third may seem paradoxical. I do not think so.

To be a writer one must be creative, incisive and observant, have an inquiring mind. A compelling story hinges on pace and plot, vivid images and insight. Perfect spelling can come later.

I am a "compensated dyslexic", which means my natural cognitive strengths have compensated for the cluster of cognitive weaknesses that characterise dyslexia.

People who meet me can hardly believe I am dyslexic. Such is the lack of understanding that they think dyslexics merely jumble their letters and are poor readers. As far as they know, I am a very good speller and I love reading, therefore I couldn't possibly be dyslexic.

Yet my dyslexia is real and is something I have struggled with throughout my life, from the frustration of learning my times tables and how to spell, to the despair of lengthy university booklists that would take me years to read, and the lifeless French and Spanish grammar exercises that held little meaning, because I think in pictures and I feel words.

It is difficult to explain. The Dyslexia Foundation of New Zealand and the Cookie Munchers Charitable Trust, which helps dyslexic children to discover their gifts, say dyslexics think in a rich tapestry of images, rather than in words.

Ron Davis, author of The Gift of Dyslexia, explains that dyslexics are visual, multi-dimensional thinkers, using all the senses to think and learn, which is much quicker than verbal thinking.

Because of this we are excellent at hands-on or experiential learning but we sometimes find it hard to understand letters, numbers, symbols and written words, which cannot be experienced by all the senses.

This means that it can be difficult to put ideas across, going through a translation process to put them into words. I often find myself wishing I could simply beam the image of an idea directly to the recipient, especially when I experience a snowstorm of these rich and involved images as my thoughts fly thick and fast.

The World Health Organisation defines dyslexia as "an unexplained difference between adequate spoken language and severe reading and spelling difficulties despite normal intelligence and opportunities for schooling".

It is a biological hiccup, if you will, which means that around 5 to 7 per cent of otherwise normally functioning and intelligent people have reading and writing difficulties, ranging from mild to severe.