My oldest friends call me Brons, short for Bronson.  The nickname came about because of a unique bicycle my father bought for me as a boy.  After learning to ride, Nevin "Tater" Sellers, a popular older boy in town, said my new wheels looked like the Harley Davidson owned by the fictional character Jim Bronson.  God bless Tater! He started calling me Bronson, and it caught on right away.  Almost everyone had a nickname in McAlisterville, and Tater's nicknaming influence saved me from the previous nickname I hated; “Nellie” had been bestowed upon me by my brother.  My family has always referred to me as “Nelson,” the name my father gave me at birth.

Jim Bronson was a disillusioned writer/reporter turned drifter in the short-lived television series, "Then Came Bronson."  While the TV show only lasted one season, my nickname stuck forever. It made me feel cool as a boy, and trust me, a kid previously known as Nellie can use all the "cool" he can get. Thanks, Tater!

I'm a big fan of the law, modern medicine, education, and pushing the boundaries of science. Admittedly, I'm not the attorney my father dreamed I'd become, nor am I a doctor, teacher, or scientist. Beyond that, I offer to you that I am a man devoid of any formal schooling.

So what business do I have attempting to demystify and rebrand one of the great secrets of the mind, this thing called dyslexia?

Since this is my second book on the subject, you may be asking yourself: why would a man admit to having no education and yet in the next breath attempt to hold himself out as a writer.

Well, I’m a writer simply because I want to write about those relatable moments of surviving childhood and coming of age in a small town.  I get a kick out of the perceived notion that the words dyslexia and author can’t exist in the same sentence.  Contrary to that popular belief, with the proper accommodations, people with dyslexia are imaginative writers!  However, the big news here is that I'm in the minority of individuals who will tell you that dyslexia is the best thing that has ever happened to me. That statement deserves further explanation, and is therefore worthy of ink.

Sure, if you read my first book, you know my schooling was a disaster I wouldn't wish on any kid.

Through the years, however, I not only came to recognize the gifts of dyslexia, I learned the very simple secret that unlocks those gifts.

I've been preparing for over fifty years; this is my moment.  I've stoked the fires in my heart. My voice is strong with confidence!

My mission in life is to keep kids out of the jaws of alligators (alligators = ignorance).

I'm finally ready to make my argument: "Dyslexia: It Doesn't Have To Be So Hard."