Dita Parker

Monday, November 30, 2009

An Autopsy of the Woman as a Young Writer

"And what have we here?"

"Ms. Dita Parker, female in her mid-thirties."

"No way. Thirty-three tops."

"It says so right here, Randolph."

"No way. Older than her looks then."

"Older than her years, as well. Have a look at the report. Three lives long at least. Well traveled. Speaks several languages. Multidisciplinary education. Married with children. ATCK."

"Ouch. I hope she didn't suffer much."

"It means adult third culture kid, Randolph."

"Hmm, interesting."


"Nothing. I'm just saying."

"You are mumbling to yourself. Shall we concentrate on Miss Parker?"

"Does it say what she did?"

"She's a writer."

"Was, Richard."

"Was what?"

"A writer."

"Yes, thank you, Randolph."


"Yes,  t h a n k  y o u, Randolph. I do believe we established that."

"Does it say what she wrote?"

"Fiction, genre and literary. Essays. Blogged, translated... Don't say it!"

"I was only going to ask what she succumbed to."

"With her history, probably some sort of multiple personality issue. 'Superfluous curiosity about too many topics, blah blah blah... Infatuation with languages, dialects and word play sometimes inhibits crystal clarity and objective output and causes confusion of the comic slash embarassing kind.'"

"Did she get to work on it? Ever publish anything?"

"According to this, she started out with Roman...Romantica. Something about some cave in...Ohio?"


"No, Ellora. Ellora's Cave. What? Do I have something in my teeth?"

"No it's just... Let me see that."

"Why are you smiling like a...like... Like that?"

"Just thinking of the missus, that's all."

"Not now, Randolph. Concentrate."

"Oh, I am. Aw lawdy, I am."


"Yes, dear? I mean, Richard."

"What's in that cave?"

"A good time."

"As in..."

"A mighty good time."


"Who told me to shut up and concentrate?"

"Now Who is asking you to explain yourself. Out with it."

"You know. Romantica. What sort of rhymes with Romantica?"

"I have no idea."

"No ear for language and apparently no sex life either."


"Can't prove it by me, Dick."

"Let me see that."

"Oh, you want to see it, do you now? Caught your attention, did I? Not now, Richard. Concentrate."

"Is it cold in here?"


"Do you need to have a break?"

"No, I don't need a break. Do you?"

"Why would I need one?"

"I don't know. You look a little red. Around the collar."

"It's hot in here, isn't it?"

"I thought you were cold."

"Yes. No. I need a break. Ten minutes? No, twenty."



"You can't take that out. The report. Policy and all that."

"Yes. No, of course not. Have you seen my biro?"

"The who in the what now? Oh, right. Let me write that down for you. It's http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8212-alex-rising.aspx. And show it to Frances, will you. I promise she will be pleased. Several times."


"What? Just show it to her. You won't be disappointed either, I swear."

"Has Franny said something? She has said something. What did she say?"

"My lips are sealed."

"They will be bleeding in five, four, three-"

"Get outta here."

"A writer?"

"A writer."

"Is that a smile on her face? Did she die funny?"

"No. It says here she wrote happily ever after."

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