Picture this: a man commits a crime and is arrested; some time later, he goes to trial. Evidence is produced, the jury is called to give the verdict. The foreman stand up and says, “We’re terribly sorry, Your Honor, but it will take us at least two or three months to make a decision; you see, we’re all very busy people and have lots to do when we aren’t sitting around in a courtroom, and there are only 12 of us…so we’ll let everyone know our answer in a few weeks or so.”

A couple months later, the judge calls the jury back in – still no answer, but they’re “working on it”. Two more months pass, the defendant is still in limbo, and the jury still has not made a decision.

Could this happen? Probably not. It’s ridiculous.

Picture this: a couple enter a courtroom for a divorce hearing. The judge listens to both sides, negotiations are made, and the judge says: “Well, folks, I’ve heard everything and taken notes. I’ll make a decision in 6-8 weeks; meanwhile, just sit tight and stay married…or something.”

Two months later, the judge still hasn’t made a decision – and the clerk tells the couple that it might be longer, the judge is very busy and there aren’t enough judges to hear all the cases and they are all so overworked and underpaid.

Three months after that, the divorcing couple is still waiting – but now they’re told that the papers on “on the judge’s desk” and that he will be making a decision…at some point.

Silly, right?

Let’s look at Missouri Child Support Enforcement: seven years ago, I asked for a modification; cases are supposed to be automatically reviewed every three years, yet my son was nine years old and one had never been done. I applied for a review, and the state lost the paperwork; I applied again, the wheels creaked along slowly, and finally, after three years, I was granted an increase in support. Several months’ worth of delay was due to his father, who opposed the mandated increase.

Notice it took three years, which meant it was then time for another review.

Thirteen months ago, I applied for another review; five months after that, I received a letter stating that a hearing would be held another four months down the road. The reason for the hearing was that my son’s father once again refused to accept the figures on the state’s calculations of child support.

I was told the hearing officer would make a decision within 6-8 weeks; it has now been just over five months.

Sometimes, when you call, they’ll say the papers are on the shelf; or on the table; whatever those things mean – I assume it’s progress, of a sort. And you always get the standard party line: we’re so overworked and underpaid, boohoo, sob, sob. After a few month, they’ll tell you it’s being “worked on” by the hearing officer.

What, exactly, is to “work on”? There is a standard income/expense calculation, there are standards of living, there are costs of raising children, and there are, sometimes, extenuating circumstances. All but the latter are simple facts, and those are black and white: here is the amount to be paid.

Are they telling me that five months after the hearing, the officer will remember the case, let alone the details of those extenuating circumstances? What exactly has the officer been doing for five months? Hearing more cases, that he apparently can’t decide for half a year?

I have dealt with many state agencies over the years, and Child Support Enforcement is, without a doubt, the most inefficient, backward, and slowest bureaucratic mess ever to be created.

And that, my friends, is saying quite a lot; it’s no secret that the Children’s Division runs a very, very close second.

Now, I may be no expert, but there are a few things one should and should not do when attempting to write and/or blog as a career.

First, not everyone is meant to be a writer. You may have a great story to tell, but you may not be able to string together three words in a coherent fashion; you may also have begun the previous sentence with “firstly”.

“Firstly” is not a word. Period. Don’t use it.

You may, on the other hand, be able to form a sentence or two, or even an entire paragraph. Please don’t confuse these – only Herman Melville in “Moby Dick” is allowed to extend one sentence for six pages; he had a special license. Say what you mean, mean what you say, and use end punctuation marks. Fairly frequently.

But not necessarily exclamation marks – and yes, you can occasionally begin sentences with “but” or “and”, just don’t abuse the privilege. You may be excited about your topic or title, but not everyone is going to be equally wound up; especially if that topic or title is a serious one. Even if you normally speak in that manner, tone it down a bit, please, for the rest of us.

Avoid clichés. Like the plague.

And please don’t speak or “loosing weight”. One may loosen his belt, or be a loose woman, but when one is practically losing his mind while reading such drivel, one tends to think the author is a complete idiot.

Let’s discuss tense; no, not tension, but the relation of verbs to nouns and the time periods in which they take place. For example, one may have gone to the grocery store this morning, but one certainly has not went to the store; neither has one ran over the dog yesterday, but he likely had run over him, or at least someone did because that dog is now flat as a pancake. Oops, don’t forget to avoid those clichés.

Being politically correct has never been more dangerous – please, please avoid repeating “his and hers” or “he or she”, ad nauseum, throughout your writing. Even if you use “he” in one sentence and “she” in another, or divide it by paragraphs, it’s still a lot easier to read than pausing every six words to plow through more unnecessary verbiage.

Speaking of unnecessary, words like “daunting” mean “insurmountable”, or near-impossible. An article about taking a baby for a visit to Aunt Mary’s house is nowhere near “a daunting task”. Please. Neither is leaving a child with a sitter for the first time “terrifying”, unless you’ve hired Jeffrey Dahmer or some other totally unsuitable caretaker.

Of course, what do I know? I see blogs all the time, associated with major newspapers, which are quite possibly written by a grade-schooler – and I wonder how in the world these people were noticed by professional publishers and editors? Of course, seeing as how editing seems to be a lost craft, perhaps those individuals didn’t notice anything wrong.