Writer Maladies
© 2003, Wendy Webb

      Writers fall prey to maladies like everyone else. You know what I'm talking about. "Any disordered condition." This succinct definition falls within my abridged dictionary between "maladjusted" and "malarkey" not to be confused with "malapropos" and "Malaga," the wine not the city of its origin, although a swig just about now might be just the thing you will need if you've managed to read this far.
      Pay attention now, this gets tricky. Maladies specific to writers might best be explained right now by describing what they aren't. They aren't symptoms described, in more detail than an anatomy textbook, during the commercial break of Roseanne. You know the type. The ones where we're not really looking at Cathy Rigby's triple dismount, or moved to tears by how close mother and daughter are by the fact they can discuss intimate hygiene problems while driving a car going 75 miles an hour in rush hour traffic.
      No. These maladies are not specific to writers, and in fact are probably not specific to anyone we want to know personally. Unless, of course, you are watching Roseanne and needed something that actually struck you as funny.
      Nor are Writer Maladies a long line of orthopedic problems like PacMan wrist, Mouse Myalgia, Fax Finger or Keyboard Cramp, although these deserve at least a passing recognition in The New England Journal of Medicine, or The National Enquirer. And a support group formed of like sufferers.
      No, by Writer Maladies, I am referring to a mental state that I will call "attitude." The way I see it, attitude falls into two categories. Professional and unprofessional.
      The professional attitude, not technically a malady, is simple really. You write no matter what happens. The government denies a recession, you write. You're living off Day-Glo cereal and powdered milk, you write. Your editor commits suicide and leaves your manuscript as a goodbye note next to the empty bottle of pills and alcohol, a gun, knife, noose and a plastic bag with warning still attached that says "Not meant as an editorial toy." You still write. And you like it, because there is little else that you'd rather do. Practice makes perfect.
      Which reminds me. Do you ever wonder why health care professionals practice medicine? Wouldn't you feel better going to someone who's finally figured it out?
      Unprofessional attitudes, a definite Writer Malady, encompass a wide variety of techniques. For instance:
      The "Bigger Than Thou" attitude. This is manifested by overt moves such as buying drinks or the entire bar, sign for it on the hotel room key, and then sticking the convention with the final tab. This gesture requires one in response and very often gets it.
      The "Bigger" writer also demonstrates social courtesies in other ways. Have a sob story or joke? "Bigger" sobs louder and has heard the joke--only it's better the way he tells it. Just ask him. But he deserves the limelight. He's worked hard at it, and after all, he's bigger than you, louder than you, and can't figure out why he has to wait in the driver's license line just like the rest of us.
      The "Comparison" attitude writer will peer at your nametag, harumph, and ask what he's read of your work. Don't fall for this trick. Whatever you've written, he's written the story better and at least a decade ago. "Comparison" will count the number of people attending his panel, puff up with pride over his agent who works out of a double-wide off a south Georgia interstate but who "stays in touch with New York," and frequently uses words like "kudos," "nominee," and "bestseller." Keep in mind that what he really means is flora, Oscar, and Alexandra Ripley.
      The "Shtick" attitude writer hides behind a persona or attire befitting their perceived status in the writing world. Spock ears, green elf shoes and a knowledge of wine that doesn't include the ability to spell sommelier? That's the shtick attitude. A smoking Meerschaum carved to resemble Rod Serling, or Mr. Rogers, a button that reads "If this bods arockin', don't come aknockin'," and enough black leather and chrome studs to outfit the Hell's Angels? You got it. Shtick. Me, I prefer the traditional elbow patches. Jacket optional.
      The "Networking" attitude writer works the crowd like a Fortune 500 lobbyist. This is the writer that will corner an editor in the bathroom with a proposal for this great book that one day they might get around to writing. Too bad it was in the editor's private hotel room after a particularly lethal night of drinking.
      So you decide. The ball, as it were, is in your court. Professional attitude or not, the key word here is write. But be prepared, if you are stricken with a Writer Malady, I know some healthcare professionals that need the practice.