James E. Robinson is a professional songwriter, musician, author, counselor, and speaker. His songs have been recorded by major artists in country, Christian, and rock music and he has recorded three CD's of his own. He and his wife are co-founders of ProdigalSong Ministries [www.ProdigalSong.com], combining music, speaking, and education workshop presentations, they travel and perform in churches, treatment centers, schools, and correctional facilities throughout the country.

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, or AAD.

Dear Dr.,

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.

But breaking 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?

Sincerely,

Steven S. Synoname

Dear Steven,

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 Disease).

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 listening.

When not writing this column, Jim can be found compulsively overworking at www.ProdigalSong.com and www.jameserobinson.com.