My flaw is a sad, pervasive disease

Art by Mel Bochner

They are in the way of everything and everyone. They make us tired, lose the storyline, and distract us from the point.  Sometimes they make us roll our eyes in disbelief. Yes, they can be real drama queens.

They remind me that my thinking is flawed, sloppy, and lazy. Or that my emotional complexity is retarded and that I’m just too repressed or status-seeking to speak candidly.

Which is all so sad because some days I can’t live without them. They’re my crutch, my easy fix, my fallback for hiding flaws.

Perhaps you too, dear reader, suffer from this disease.  Or perhaps you’ve conquered it and could help me.

It’s called Sucky Adjective Disease.

It’s a horrible, terrible, lame, deficient, unacceptable, rotten, gross, pathetic, and flawed disease. It's especially pervasive at work.

One time I crossed out all the adjectives in an essay. What remained was pathetic. I put the adjectives back and saw them for what they were: bland flourishes, like random paint strokes obscuring the people in the scene.  Oops, there I go again. I’ve got it bad, girl.

You know you have a serious case of SAD when you slip into using redundant adjectives. This is a serious sign that you’re exhausted or hate what you’re writing about. Unexpected surprises. Free gifts. Verdant green. Urgent crisis.  Overused cliches.

Many practice “Dry January,” abstaining from alcohol. I wonder if 30 days of giving something up creates a good habit. If so, should I try a SAD-free February? Not using any adjectives seems drastic. Not just horribly difficult but tragically sad.  My poor words would feel so naked and exposed.

Cold turkey is so extreme and I might suffer from withdrawal or a paralyzing writer’s block. What do you think about trying to reduce adjectives by 50%?

If the SAD fast works, might another one help me with my “ing-ing” problem, those pesty present participles. (And don’t tell me to give up alliteration. My ears need linguistic music.) My last editor liked and hated my writing. She left the adjectives but crossed out all the verbs ending in “ing.”  She said they sucked the life out of the writing.

Oh, dear readers. My writers' group prompt today about owning my flaws brought me to the depths of my wicked laziness in writing.

I take the easy way out. I suffer from Sucky Adjective Disease and “ing-ing.”

From here on in, I vow to expose more without my adjective allies.

If I disappear from writing on this blog, send me help by way of some adverbs.

SAD but buoyantly yours,

Lois