We interrupt our regular blog to bring you this important public service announcement:
Hello. My name is Pari Noskin Taichert. You may know me as a novelist, an award nominee, a convention chair, a features writer, a public relations pro. Some of you have met me in my capacity as a wife, a mother, a cellist, a dog owner . . . but that’s not why I’m here today.
I’m speaking to you on behalf of the CWDC.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Centers for Writer Disease Control (CWDC), ours is a small organization – perpetually ill-funded (but that’s mostly okay) – but dedicated to the health and welfare of our nation’s literature-creating trust. This is no small task. Each year, hundreds of thousands of writers – maybe millions (who’s to say?) – suffer the ravages of
* MOD (Marketing Overwhelment Disorder)
* WBS (Writers’ Block Syndrome)
* EM (EllipsiMania)
* TMD2 (Too Many Details Disorder)
* SSER (Strident Self-Editing Reflex)
* its corollary: NE2R (Non-Existent Editing Reflux)
and other debilitating diseases.
But that’s not why I’m here today.
It has come to our attention (well, my attention since CWDC is really, really small, so small in fact that sometimes it totally disappears and then someone else has to come in with intravenous lattes to revive its director . . .
. . . but that’s not why I’m here today . . .)
Let’s start over. Okay?
It has come to our attention that a new disease is on the rise:
ADWD: Attention Deficit Writing Disorder
(Excuse me? Is that drink for me? Why . . . thank you.)
Symptoms include an inability to focus on . . .
(What? No! I didn’t ask for a soy chai. I wanted a latte.)
. . . on any writing project for more than a . . .
(Get that needle away from me!)
. . . a few minutes at a time.
Writers with this disease are often . . .
(Ow! Really?! Was that necessary?)
. . . spotted with their laptops trying to grab a couple of minutes’ writing in . . .
(Oh, man, I don’t feel so good.)
. . . moving vehicles (which they’re often driving) or at cafes while ostensibly talking with friends.
In other words, not only are they completely unable to focus on projects in their own homes, they also try to work in inappropriate . . .
(Is it hot in here? My tongue feels funny, kinda furry.)
. . . places.
Combined with other conditions, this dangerous disease can result in disjointed plotting, abandoned stories, nonsensical segues. If you supectt ssomeonnnne you know hass thissss dissssorderrrr, plleeeazzz calllllll thisss nummmbbb . . .
The preceding was a public service announcement from CWDC. To donate to the Center, please send money directly to Pari Noskin Taichert. Go ahead. Just wire it right on over. Really. Credit Cards. Checks. Money transfers. She’s set up for PayPal too.
It’s for the Center, after all.
Thanks for this wonderfully witty, biting and cleansing post! Now I now why I follow this site so faithfully. The writers are genuine, oh so genuine. Truly care about each other, unpublished writers, readers and what goes on in the world around them. And I know what I'm talking about, I've followed a few other sites. There, had to get that out of my system. Cheers to Muderati community!
You need me to send you money, or a cake with a file in it?
You know you can get out of a straightjacket if you dislocate your own shoulder, right?
Hee! That was pretty funny.
That was awesome. And interrupting yourself really got the point across.
Check, check, check, and …check. Epidemic indeed.
Pari, does it count as writing if I'm responding to a Murderati blog? Writing research if I'm reading about the craft and writer angst here? What key do I press to get the intravenous latte? I'll send heaps of cash to help this worthy cause from my F.U.N.D.S.-Fully Unpublished, No Dough Sorry! Love the infusion of humour, thanks! 😀
Thank you so much. I am so proud to have started this blog and to see what it has grown into. J.T. is a huge part of its success — as is all our 'Rati past and present.
I'm also glad you enjoyed the piece and the humor.
I'll take that cake anytime. As to dislocating my shoulder . . . I wonder if I could do it in a desperate enough situation. I'd like to think that I could.
Thanks . . . coming from someone with a great sense of humor.
Actually, JD, that didn't come out right. I meant that *you* have a great sense of humor!
I'm glad you enjoyed it. And the interrupting part was the most fun to write.
I suspect you might come up with a few more ideas for writers' diseases.
My answers: #1. Yes. #2. Not so much. #3. I still haven't found it.
You're welcome. Thanks for the fun response!
Made me giggle – I fear I am suffering from ADWD. Badly. Like I'm getting the shakes right now just thinking about it.
And Murderati is all you, sugar. All you.
Finally, someone is speaking about ADWD! Thank you, Pari, for being so
Crap. I'm out of Diet Dr. Pepper.
ADWD. Break the silence.
I drove 25 miles on the wrong freeway yesterday because I was thinking about a plot point.
I'm amused. I think of you was incredibly immune to AHWD. As a matter of fact, I've often wondered if you'd received some kind of special vaccination or something and WHERE I could get it!
Heh heh heh, Spencer. Good one. I can recognize a fellow sufferer.
And speaking of which . . .
I spit out my coffee (thanks for nothing, it's all over my keyboard now) when I read your comment. I've missed turnoffs for the same reason. This one sounds like you didn't even realize you were doing it for 25 miles? Wow.
HAHAHAHAHA… I am probably the worst sufferer. That's why I have to employ outside influences to get me to focus. Like Freedom…
And apologies if anyone is having trouble posting comments today – Squarespace seems to be acting up.
Pari – thank you for speaking out on the heartbreak of ADWD. For those of us who suffer and await a cure, I applaud your bravery for bringing it out into the open. Oh! Email just dinged. Lunch is waiting.
Might I specify my donation for the writus interruptus fund? Heh.
Thank God it's not contagious.
I started reading something – what the hell was it?
Thank you for the laughter. this is a great blog with such really neat writers…and posters.
I still stick with you being incredibly focused.
And I'm glad Squarespace is having problems. I thought people just freaked with the weird post.
You're welcome. The more we talk about this, the less stigma there will be.
Ha! Writus interruptus . . . a truly devastating illness from which many of us suffer.
I doubt you've suffered from any of these afflictions. And the literary world is much the richer for your good health.
Let us know when you figure it out.
Thank you. Please tell all your friends about Murderati. That would be such a gift for us . . . to have more people reading our work and sharing in the conversation.
Pari, you're priceless. Thanks for this laugh today!
I've actually had my kids ask me while I was driving them someplace, "Mom, where are you going?" Heh. "Scenic route" fooled them for a while. Then they started "reminding" me when it was time to turn or take an exit. Smart alecks.
This affliction is why, on the weekends, lunch is often called supper by the time I remember it.
And yeah, I'll get right on that whole funding thing. Right after I… something… right after that other thing I was…
Yeah, I bet you can relate. Sometimes I catch my children staring at me, expectantly, and wonder why they're waiting for something. Eventually they give up and about four minutes after that I realize I'd been in the middle of saying something to them and had stopped mid-sentence with an idea.
I guess I'll just add another dollar to the therapy jar.
Thank you for making me laugh! I have the biggest smile on my face right now!!!!!
Shades of Toni! That was great Pari. Funny (furry?) as hell!
Man, that makes me smile. I love it when I can make people laugh! Thank you for telling me.
Thank you, too. I'm very glad you enjoyed it.
LOL! I totally suffer from this! I'm just glad I have a diagnosis and can get on with my…
what the he-…
. . . but isn't suffering from it . . . um, well, fun?