Greetings, dear readers! This
month’s column continues our six-part series called “The Six As of
Addiction.” Today’s entry addresses an e-mail received from someone
suffering from the condition known as Aberrant Alliteration Disorder,
Hope you can
help. I’m a thirty-six-year-old man, happily
married to the most marvelous maiden named Marge. While my workday week
revolves around textiles (I’m a weaver at Wilson’s Worldwide Rug
Weavers), I often wonder if I will ever wind up as a writer. Listen,
all my life I’ve lived with a longing to leave my lurid life of
luxurious linens and loop rugs and finally take the literary leap.
into the business brings back some bad
memories. In the first grade I finally found the fortitude to put my
feelings into fonts, so to speak. But right when my teacher, Ms
Rhetton, beyond all reason read my writing to the rest of the room, I
really turned red, and realized right then how rotten rejection felt.
Ever since that eventful day, I’ve expected everything I write to
eventually evoke evil exclamations (probably induced by envy, but even
so extending my erstwhile angst).
So, Dr., what
am I to do? Should I defer my dream, or dare
I dive into this daunting task of daily delving into the deeps of my
artistic destiny? Am I in denial?
It seems likely to me that you
are indeed in denial . . . but not in
the way you might think! Someone who writes with such poetic beauty has
no business making rugs. You, sir, are a weaver of words! In fact, I’d
go so far as to say that you and I are (if you’ll forgive the pun) cut
from the same cloth. Perhaps, like my own, your pursuit of being a
writer was preordained; as a child I always preferred prose and poetry
to playing in the park, and even now that I’m a parent I still consider
Peter Piper’s pickled peppers the nearly perfect poem. Do not
stop writing, my brother! Clearly, you have “the gift.”
I encourage you, however, to
consider the possibility that you might be suffering from Aberrant
Alliteration Disorder. Certainly, it’s silly to stick stuff in every
sentence with the same sounds, simply to superciliously impress society
with our scribe-ness. Most of us who have struggled with this disorder
have found help in support groups such as AAAA (Advanced Alliteration
Addicts Anonymous). And good news for those who love us, as well:
LOTWLDS (Loved Ones of Those Who Loath Dr. Seuss) is a worldwide group
that has helped many learn to cope with not only AAD, but also with
related conditions such as RD (Rhyming Disorder) and PPD (Purple Prose
Above all, Steven, keep writing.
Dare to dream. And don’t let the wounds of your childhood keep you from
fulfilling your creative destiny. Close your eyes . . . remember . . .
and follow . . . your fellow authors are calling: “Red rover, red
rover, send Steven right over!”
I’m Dr. Jim . . . and I’m
When not writing this column,
Jim can be found compulsively overworking at
www.ProdigalSong.com and www.jameserobinson.com.