“Dream and give yourself permission to envision a you that you choose to be.” -Joy Page
Year: 2014
Love And Friendship
“Love and friendship. They are what make us who we are, and what can change us, if we let them.” -Emily Giffin
Thoughts Through Other Eyes
I am tired in a soul-deep, bone-deep way that I can’t quite explain. I know it is borne out of doing too much, too fast, without proper rest. Sometimes I forget that I have limitations due to Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain and I simply want my normal life back. In turn, I suffer for every move I make in ignoring said limitations. Simply put, it BLOWS.
I hurt from the very top of my spine, which, by the way, is where my tattoos begin (Yes, right underneath my hair down a portion of my spine. Believe me when I say, they did not hurt. The entire experience was very positive. It felt more like being scraped repeatedly as opposed to actual pain, and who better to know the difference than someone who experiences pain 24/7? I sat for close to two hours. I have heavily inked male friends who told me their own ink in the exact same spot hurt like hell and had to be done in 2-3 sessions. They have less on their spine than I do.), all the way to the center of both feet. I’ve done a LOT this week. Now, all I want to do is get this mind-numbing headache and unbelievable stomach pain to stop so I can SLEEP. I’d also like someone to feed and water my girls, so I don’t have to get out of bed unless I really want/need to. What are the chances of the latter happening? Slim to none, and unfortunately Slim is very easily distracted.
I survived Thanksgiving, and did every single thing I set out to do in terms of cooking and baking. YAY! Of course now, I am happy to sit in front of my laptop or the TV for the next week, only moving when absolutely necessary.
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An interesting job presented itself recently. I would get to use my little-used Russian in editing a pretty large manuscript. It sounds great, and yet, I need a few days to sleep on it. Yes, someone else could get the job instead, and that can happen no matter what, but it made me take a good look at my list of spoken and learned languages. I’m actually a lot smarter than I let on, but I’ve always had to be.
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When you’re a writer, people judge you based on the work you present to them. I think this is true more so now than ever before, but at times, it doesn’t seem to matter at all if you’re presenting absolute crap, which is insulting to me.
You can walk into a business meeting looking like Stephen King, so long as the material is brilliant, no one will care. They might whisper about you amongst themselves later on, but they’re truly looking at the manuscript above all else. As a woman, it’s different. You have to be presentable enough that when you’re photographed for the inside and/or back cover, you don’t completely disgrace your entire gender. I cannot tell you how many times someone has told me how pretty a writer is when all I could think was “But is her work any good?” Not in a catty or bitchy way, but in a genuine “Unless we’re talking about Angelina Jolie, I don’t care what she looks like” way. I want what I read to be of a specific level of quality. I want it to capture and intrigue me. I don’t care what the author looks like. However, I have noticed that a great many people do.
The flip side of this particular coin is that more and more authors now attend San Diego Comic Con and New York Comic Con, along with similar types of events all over the world. There is a lot more social media interaction with readers and as much face-to-face interaction as you (and your publisher) see fit. Being comfortable in your intelligence and knowledge isn’t always easy when you’re, technically, competing for the attention of those very same readers because Jennifer Lawrence or Eva Green are also in the building promoting a highly anticipated film. Truth be told, I’d rather sit and listen to Eva Green too, but that’s just me. I’m slightly fascinated by her and have been for a good 8 years or so.
I don’t know a lot of writers that are absolute extroverts. I know a lot of very shy, quiet, introverted writers who can be extroverts for short periods of time, in the right company. While not exactly shy, I am definitely on the quieter side most of the time. If you happen to be discussing something interesting or something I am knowledgeable about, I MIGHT chime in, I might not. However, of late, I’ve noticed I’m getting some odd attention in public settings.
For the most part, but really only face-to-face, women talk to me purely about superficial things. Hair, skin, the nail polish I have on, my tattoos (Because I completely forget that they’re there and that they’re visible. I apply sunscreen to them, that’s the extent of my awareness most days,), make-up, perfume, etc. Men, on the other hand, ask different questions and approach you differently. I try very hard to be focused in my day-to-day life, but there are many days where I truly don’t want to have any type of debate while on line at the bank or discuss the price of gas, oil, milk, eggs, etc. I do not have “Has all the answers” on a t-shirt or my forehead, and yet, this happens to me constantly.
I like for my work to speak for itself, but I absolutely make an effort at putting my best face forward. I’d prefer for someone to judge me based on my work and who I am as a person, but I know that’s not how life works. Women are harshly critiqued on their appearance. It’s not something I’ve ever liked and I like it even less now. However, I realize we are all guilty of it to some extent.
By all means, be disappointed in something that doesn’t screw with someone’s self-worth and self-confidence, but don’t attack others for what is, in all honesty, a quirk of nature. If you’ve ever said something to someone that sent them running to a plastic surgeon to “fix the problem”, maybe you should take a closer look at yourself because raining your issues onto others is one of the most unattractive things one can do.
Just not lest ye be judged. Be true to yourself and don’t worry about anything or anyone else.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Suppose Time…
Overreaching
I decided a few weeks ago to forgo all the “traditional” Thanksgiving Day fare. I did not relish the idea of dealing with a turkey when a good half of it would end up in the garbage or making stuffing because I made it last year and there is simply NEVER enough stuffing one can have. I’m a carb fiend, take my word on this. FYI for all pet owners: Do not give your dogs or cats dark meat, it’s too rich for them.
Alas, I came up with a different idea. It’s a great idea. However, after a very long day of shopping in two different stores for everything I needed yesterday, I woke up this morning (way too early) and had a moment of utter panic.
What possessed me to think that chopping 7 pounds of vegetables would be “no big deal”? I’m more concerned with my Fibromyalgia, because it is flaring up BIG TIME today from my neck to my ankles, than I am about my skills with a knife (I already sliced myself last night on a mixer blade.). I will have no choice, but to take breaks in between each veggie (there are 4 in total, but there is, obviously, a LOT of it.). My only “plus” is that having had a migraine yesterday afternoon, which required medicine with caffeine to abort it out of my system, I was left wide awake into the wee hours of the morning. It was around 10:30 or so last night when I decided I was “awake, therefore I should bake”. It took more time to mix up the batter than it did to bake the two cakes I made. I thought they were awful, until I tasted the 100% cooled product this morning. It’s a little like dying and going to heaven, depending on what you like cake wise. I’m only feeling certain flavors these days. But hey, that’s one additional thing out of the way. All I have to do is frost the cake, though I do have to say that certain frostings are so disgusting, and filled with chemicals that terrify me, that I wish I’d taken a spare 30 seconds to read one can before agreeing to it. However, it’s not going into MY body, so it’s not on me. At least the normal one has ingredients in it that I can pronounce, as opposed to “Let me just Google this…” That is the quickest way to ruin dessert.
I think Aleve should be forced to change their advertising slogan from “It’s your life, pain shouldn’t get in the way. 2 pills will provide up to 12 hours of relief.” (Less than ten years ago, they claimed that 2-3 pills was 24 hours of pain relief compared to 8 Tylenol. Who the hell are they kidding? Neither of them work.) to “2 pills MIGHT give you an hour or so of peace.” There’s absolutely no drastic difference if I use the brand name or a generic version, there’s no such thing as true “relief”. I’m willing to do a LOT right now for true pain relief, but I have my limits. I already feel like someone beat me to death and no one has found my body yet, so if you don’t hear from me for a while, I must have posted from the spirit realm.
Dinner won’t be “early” tonight, hell, it might not even be served in a timely fashion, but I’ll do my best to get it all done. I have an assistant, we’ll see how long he lasts before I throw him out of the kitchen. As long as there’s no bloodshed (from my chopping knife), it’s all good.
No matter how you spend this holiday or where you are spending it, especially for our troops overseas who are away from their families, take a moment to appreciate the good things in your life and all the unhappy, bad shit that lead you to this place. Take stock of all that is important to you. Sometimes we find that the list is huge and other times we find that the list is smaller. My list is in the acknowledgements of Book One. I cannot say it’s short.
Don’t just be thankful today, be thankful every day.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.







