Being Real

This Is How I Know It’s Wednesday

Miss Poison Being Real, Life, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Unhappiness, Writing , , , , , , , , , ,

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Once the heat & humidity overpowers your thoughts, the days just blend, one into the other. After a while, you find yourself occasionally double-checking the date so that you don’t make an error on something that may or may not be all that important. When it doubt, check it out.

How do I know that it’s Wednesday? Because this morning, after waking up migraine-free (fingers and toes crossed), I couldn’t sleep and decided to check out my DVR queue. The first thing I pressed was PLAY for Pretty Little Liars. That means yesterday was Tuesday, because I was in bed at 7:30 PM praying to God to end my suffering. ABC Family hasn’t aired PLL in any other time slot, so today is definitely Wednesday. I’ll be 50 when they finally let us know, without question, who ‘A’ REALLY is, and I’m oddly okay with that.

I am forcing myself to work on “the manuscript from hell”, which just keeps growing. I suspect it’s all the notes I’ve added to it. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere with it, I catch myself making faces at the screen and typing words I don’t think I’ve ever had to use to describe someone’s writing before. I’m not subtle, but I’m not paid for subtlety, nor am I paid to kiss someone’s ass. When something is good, I say so. When it’s not, I say so. It’s all in a day’s work.

Two previous clients have returned, asking for assistance with different, but short, jobs. I’m excited to work on both projects because not only are they fast, but they’re enjoyable. I love when clients return because it means that the work you’ve done for them is memorable, and it helps you expand your client base. When someone keeps coming back, is consistently pleased with your work, and pays you well, you don’t even have to think about taking those jobs, you jump on them like a panda with bamboo.

Alas, underneath the work stuff, I am filled with severe unhappiness that runs so deep, I can’t stand it. If I didn’t have to do specific things today, I’d be content to sit and read a book, or shut off every electronic device in the house and work through my shit. Unfortunately, I’m the only reliable person available, so I’m sitting here making a “to do” list for the day. Some of it I want to do, and the rest is just crap one has to do because little people rely on them. Those are the moments when I thank God I’m not a selfish, self-centered person who only thinks of herself. I can manage “me time” with “shit that’s got to get done” time and as long as I don’t think about it too much, I will be okay. One minute at a time, one step at a time.

Dosvedanya, until I write again. Be safe.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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How To Be A Client An Editor Wants To Work With

Miss Poison Authors, Being Real, Clients, Editing, Editors, Grammar, Honesty, June, Knowledge, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Reading, Stories, Stress, Things That Enrage Me, Work, Writers, Writing , , , , , , , , ,

Author’s Note: These are all true experiences. I will never name names, but I’m not going to filter my honesty either. If something I say here offends you, then you probably don’t want to be a writer. 

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Not every client I work with is a breeze, but a small percentage are truly fabulous (One I had this week was wonderful.). There has been a tiny percentage over the last 20 years that have enraged me with their constant inquiries, rude comments, whining, tantrums, or those who simply do not understand the process.

It’s 2015, so I think it’s important for writers, especially new writers seeking publication by any means, to understand that editors are human beings. We have families, we have things that go wrong in our lives, and no matter how much we may love what we do, we’re just like everyone else. We have bills to pay, we have responsibilities, children to raise, meals to prepare, animals to care for, homes to clean, clothes that have to be washed, etc. Why would you treat your editor as a lower life form and expect them to respond well to you? I wouldn’t treat a stranger the way some people treat their editors, so here are a few things I feel are crucial information for you to have.

If you’re about to work with an editor or are currently in the process, even for the smallest project, here are some surefire ways to be a good client and not make said editor contemplate a move to a Brazilian rainforest (Another good goal is not to end up on a list of clients they’ll refuse to do business with in the future.)

#1- Don’t call or e-mail within 15 minutes of sending them your manuscript to ask if they’re finished. I JUST started. I’m on page three. Why are you asking if I’ve read the entire thing that you JUST sent to me? Precisely how does one get it into their head that a non-magical entity has just inhaled 100,000 words (or more) in 15 minutes?! It is annoying to the point of something more severe. Here, let me whip out my magic wand…  Don’t do it, and if you’re thinking about doing it, lock your phone in a drawer and change all of your passwords to stifle yourself.

A good editor will update you during the process, there is no need to nag. You may find yourself so excited that you can’t help but constantly send your editor messages, but eventually, even the best editor is going to lose their patience with repetitive questions. The only time it’s acceptable to keep track of them is, if by some strike of lightning, you never hear from them again, which happens to people on occasion. However, a person that responds to you and keeps you updated is working, and you probably aren’t their only job, so be patient. Take this from a person who is being nagged every few days by a client. If strangling were legal…  

#2- Don’t say rude, insensitive, inappropriate, idiotic shit. If an editor lets you know right away that they are dealing with any kind of emergency (We’re people, life/shit happens and it’s not always good.) decide whether or not you can hold out. If they are in the middle of the work, let them finish. Continuity is important. Hiring another editor to do what they’ve been working on is a headache because that person will only start from the beginning and make changes more suitable to their style, and that’s additional time, and money, being spent.

If they just started working and you’ve barely paid them, it’s okay to move on if need be, but don’t take hostility out on them or, if you agree that you can wait, don’t send them messages every few days, or weekly, to ask about the progress. Let them work. If I have to stop what I’m doing to answer your repetitive e-mails, I might not be pleasant, polite, or anywhere near the word “professional”. I might give you one word answers. If I respond three days later, that does not mean I was ignoring you. It means I was working. Don’t make assumptions. 

#3- Realize that every freelance editor does not have a team behind them and/or a slew of assistants. I’m a one-woman show. There are days I knock out 25,000 words in the editing and/or proofreading process and there are days I am only able to get through a few pages. The dirtier the manuscript, the more face time it requires.

#4- Read your work in advance before you submit it. You might even want to read it twice. Use spell check. Hell, use a grammatical tool so I don’t stare at the page flabbergasted by your complete and utter lack of knowledge regarding the use of the English language. “Did she actually write “ancestory” instead of “ancestry”? I think I’m having a stroke. (This happened to me Thursday.) That is not a typo (look at where each letter is on your keyboard), it’s someone trying to sound out a word and failing, miserably.   

#5- You may have a few self-published titles under your belt, but that doesn’t make you a writer. Yeah, I said it. Anyone can self-publish. If you don’t have an audience to sell to and a solid story, don’t make it out to be more than it is. There are some exceptions to this rule and they are people who have properly marketed themselves as a brand. I know a few of them and their decency measures up to the quality of their writing.

#6- You cannot self-promote anything that isn’t edited, clean, and ready to go. It’s childish and unprofessional, and it’s not going to work in your favor the second a prospective agent Googles you and finds your blatant self-promotion, for a book they may or may not want to buy, in places they probably don’t want to see it. They might like your chutzpah, because you will need those skills later on, but they’re not going to want unedited excerpts on every writing web-site from here to Calcutta. Know when to hold things close and even better, know when to keep your mouth shut. Unless something is a done deal contractually, zip it. Afterwards, I’d still refrain.

#7- Write what you know. If you’re choosing a place you have never been and will never visit, you’re not going to capture the essence of the most crucial things, and a local resident or someone who has been there is going to pick up on that immediately. There may be a lot of competition to write about things in major cities, but if you’ve actually made the statement that Johns Hopkins University and their respective Hospital are in New York City when it most certainly is not (Hello, have you ever heard of Baltimore, Maryland?! Unless I’ve had a recent lobotomy, they’re both still there.), I strongly recommend NOT making New York City your setting. (Yes, this happened. I had to walk away from the crazy because insistence does not make something truth.)

#8- Speak to me, on the phone & in e-mails, the same way you want to be spoken to. If you’re incessantly rude, eventually even the nicest person is going to snap. Ultimately, treat people the way you want to be treated, in all things.

#9- You may love your editor, but he/she is not your bestie. Unless we’re genuine friends outside of work, I cannot take time to counsel you on your marriage, friendships, parents, or children. Not when you constantly ask me “Is it done yet?” It’s NOT a piece of chicken.

#10- An editor who knows his or her shit is going to push you to be better. We are going to tell you to re-write, revise, and altogether tell a better story. It’s our job to dissect what you’ve written and help you make it into a cohesive, readable body of work. Telling you it’s the most fabulous thing I’ve ever read when it is not and kissing your ass for writing it “in three months” is NOT in my job description. I can tell when something took no time at all.

#11- There is a relatively long list of words I will cut out of a manuscript the second I see them in an overly repetitive fashion. “Very”, “Awesome”, “Seriously”, “Really” “Totally”, “Umm”, “Just” “Ya” as opposed to “Yeah”, are merely a few. The deal-breaker is “Alright”. I flip my lid every time I see it and you’re out there calling yourself a writer. Don’t insult me, I’ve been writing for 28 years and I’m almost positive I have always known that “all right” is two fucking words, not a creative amalgamation for the lazy. If ever I DID make errors like that, there was always someone present to correct me.

The occasional slip-up is not the end of the world, but if you regularly use the word “Y’all”, or any variation thereof, please exit stage door left so I don’t throw something. I realize it’s a part of some people’s daily vernacular, but if you’ve written it into a book that does not take place south of the Mason-Dixon line, I’m cutting it.

#12- If you want five hundred pages edited in 1-3 days, you’re either looking to hire a machine or highly intelligent zoo animals. Let me know how that works out for you. (This is a regular request. These are the same people who think this level of editing shouldn’t cost more than $30 U.S., not Canadian. I would rather starve for a week than do that much work for so little money. That’s not even my current hourly rate!)

The very best editor for you is someone you have fostered some sort of professional, communicative relationship with, maybe even someone you know who edits and who you have come to respect, but it’s not the person you picked out of a line-up as the cheapest person for the job. Unfortunately, sometimes you get what you pay for and other times you find someone amazing. It’s the luck of the draw.

At the end of the day, I do not have all the answers. I have 95% of them, but not all of them. 😉

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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How Honest Are People About Their Mental Health? This Might Surprise You…

Miss Poison Artists, Being Real, Creativity, Emotional Pain, Facebook, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, People, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Suicide, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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Facebook needs to institute a better policy involving “friending”. Even with strict filtering, I have people sending me friend requests simply because they like something I’ve said. Why in the world would you want to be “friends” with someone who is simply the same astrological sign as you, or just happens to also be a writer/editor? I understand when people say they’re an “aspiring writer”. They want to see what they can learn from you. I am a very open person, BUT when it comes to my WIP’s, I am not about to post them anywhere for the entire world to see. I don’t want or need a critique, I don’t need someone to tell me how to be a better writer, etc. I have been doing this for 28 years this month. I know my shit. If I didn’t, I would never have continued to return to it, be it as a source of inspiration for myself or as a source of income.

Moreover, if a person openly declares themselves a “sociopath”, you probably DON’T want to accept the friend request that is sent to you an hour later simply because they “like” an intelligent and/or helpful comment that you’ve made. I keep my “inner sociopath” to myself. I do let her out on special occasions though, when a person is deserving of dealing with it. 😉

One interesting thing that caught my eye over the past couple of days was an article that other writers and aspiring writers were contributing to. I want to say that it was more a group of highly creative individuals, so there were songwriters and artists also involved in the conversation. It began with a question: “How many of us suffer from bipolar disorder or other forms of depression or anxiety?”

Nearly a hundred different people (it might have been more, this has been a rough week for me in terms of keeping in touch with others) responded with various responses that said yes and each of them explained their diagnoses. Only four or five people said they suspected they suffered from some sort of depression, but that it had never been diagnosed. About the same amount, more or less, said they did not suffer from depression.

I was very proud of everyone for openly, honestly discussing bipolar disorder, anxiety, OCD, and a plethora of other forms of “mental illness”. It hurts me to use that term AT ALL. I don’t see every single person as “mental” and I cringe when people refer to others in such a way, as opposed to educating themselves. An illness is an illness. I would never tell someone they were responsible for getting sick in the first place, but MANY do say shit like that. It baffles me. Some people even discussed varying degrees of autism. That takes incredible courage. One of my cousins is autistic, so I’m not ignorant there.

When confronted with my own mental health, I am supremely honest, but I do not advertise it. I am going through something that has made me full-blown OCD,  exacerbated my PTSD to levels I didn’t even know existed, and my anxiety is so bad, I can barely sleep most nights without waking up screaming, sometimes from pain, sometimes from my medication wearing off too quickly.

From day one, I have openly, and very honestly discussed suicide. This makes people uncomfortable because they REFUSE to face the fact that they’ve romanced the idea themselves. No one can tell me they suffer from any form of depression and have NEVER considered suicide. It might have been a fleeting thought, it might be something you NEVER act on, but it still exists. This is a trigger for a lot of people. They lash out at me and decide I am no longer worth their time, all because I was HONEST. Catch me on a dark day and I might scare you with my truth, but anyone who genuinely cares about you will give you their time and concern, they will not pretend you’re “mental” or tell you to “take a pill”. Those are two of the most insulting things to tell someone.

I once had a woman piss me off at the grocery store. I was going through a stressful time with my father’s health and, in front of her children (both of whom were under the age of 12, but not younger than 8 or 9), she told them to “Get away from her, she’s “mental”. I might THINK a person is batshit in a public place, but unless they’ve caused harm to someone or they’re about to hurt themselves, I’m not stupid enough to go there.

Truth is, they were standing in front of a huge display of fruit for nearly ten minutes and wouldn’t move out of the way. How do you not tell your young kids to move over so other people can shop too? She was talking to them like they were infants, as opposed to children that have the ability to comprehend. The comment was completely out of line and off base. I turned to look at her, contemplated knocking her teeth out, and then looked at her a second longer with her kids. I felt incredibly sorry for them. I then politely took the fruit I wanted and said “Did you learn that in your many years of therapy? You might not want to pre-judge people based upon your own issues.”, and I walked away. She was left in the dust, unable to speak, because I called her on her shit.

I don’t need that kind of false denial in my life, not from any one. You don’t have to like me or love me, but I guarantee that with an open mind, you will respect me. I would never intentionally hurt someone with my candor, and it’s okay to say “Lisa, I care about you, but this upsets me too much to discuss any further.” It’s called COMMUNICATION.

I have lost people to suicide because they had no one they felt would truly listen and hear them out or “make it stop”. I’ve stopped myself many times from acting on a thought because I believed it was irrational and felt it was wrong to leave any one of 4-5 people in my life behind to discover what I’d done, or have to receive the phone call that just plain brings you to your knees. It would devastate four of them. The last person probably wouldn’t give a shit or so much as come to my funeral. I’m not a priority now, why would I be a priority then?! (Yes, that was morbid and I apologize. Two, you’d understand why I said that if you knew who I was talking about and how they have treated me.)

Being honest about what I suffer from, including migraines and Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain is part of what keeps me alive. The other part is that I am responsible for little people that love me and would have terrible difficulties without me. And even still… I often find myself thinking “This isn’t enough to live for.” It’s not coming from a selfish place, it’s coming from a place of wanting to be better, to strengthen the relationships in my life, to bring other relationships into my life and allow them to flourish. I cannot live for one thing and one thing alone. That’s my personal take on it, but it might not be yours, and that’s okay. I’m by no means here to judge you.

I want to thank the people that have supported me this past week through a living nightmare. I am surprisingly uplifted by the emotional support, care, concern, dedication, determination, and devotion. Only ONE person said “I’m proud of you.” When you’re going through hell, you do not want to be pitied, treated like a failure, or be belittled and/or disrespected. You simply want to be treated like the person that you are. I had to be reminded that I am strong, smart, and capable in the face of others trying to crush my soul. Bad things happen to all of us at some point in life. I may have been given a higher dose, perhaps God shouldn’t trust me so much, but it is what it is, and I am making peace with it.

I refuse to allow anyone to make me feel small in order to raise their own self-esteem.

If you’re honest and upfront about any illness, I applaud you. If you’re a loyal, supportive person to those that you love, I also applaud you. Compassion & genuine kindness is severely underrated.

“Things” do not make you who you are. It’s what’s inside your heart and soul that is the true value of self. The trappings are pure nonsense. They do not define you. I wish I’d understood some of that for the past ten years, but now that I do, I am determined, now more than ever, to persevere and make important things happen.

This phoenix has been reborn. Stay the hell out of my fire.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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I’d Hoped For A Thunderstorm

Miss Poison April, Being Real, Exhaustion, Honesty, Life, Musings, Petty Garbage, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Saturday, Toxic People, Writing , , , , , , ,

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For every weather site and app that predicted thunderstorms last night into today; I am not happy with you. Deliver your predictions, lest people start believing that you “cold read” the weather to begin with and aren’t actually looking at all the colorful charts and fancy equipment you like to show us and claim is being used to “detect storms in the area”. Cat and kitten are better at predicting the weather accurately, you should all be ashamed of yourselves!

Has anyone else felt the intensity of this full moon? I’ve been ready to outright harm someone since about mid-day. Mind you, I’m very in tune with the elements, so that might have something to do with that. Moreover, some people are assholes and do not deserve the attention, and yet, people are wandering around the interwebs today causing drama and trying to place blame on others. Intelligent people with intelligent comments and opinions are not a part of the “clique of the dumb”. Everyone wants to be something that they’re not, and yet they all feel as though they’re a special part of an extremely large crowd. Ask me how many people I’ve had to block today…because the number is astounding. Simply put; I will not engage with morons. You get one chance with me and if you blow it, I’m done. Plus, I’m still trying to cope with the Polyamory group that somehow sought me out (I don’t get it, but to each their own. Obviously I’m not ignorant, I fully know what it is, etc., it’s just not my personal cup of tea.). I can barely tolerate one person at a time, you want me to add MORE people to my love life?! Clearly, the “invite” was sent to the WRONG Lisa Marino. This one is too busy today, tonight, and every day until I die. Try me in the afterlife, maybe I’ll entertain the notion then, which is precisely when I suspect I will be bored. At least Walmart was happy to send me a message about a whistling tea kettle. If only their site-to-store time wasn’t so long. They say it’s not, but I once waited nearly four months for an item I ordered that was only supposed to take two weeks. That item now sits in my laundry room, clean and unused because it is way too heavy for my bed and I suspect cat and kitten would claw it to bits.

Is it terrible that all I want to do is watch the basketball game and eat dinner? I tried taking a nap earlier and HE annoyed me in his search for a screwdriver to “fix a belt”. I’m not sure how fixing a belt equates to “Do you have any clear nail polish?”

I get asked the oddest questions.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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It’s Friday, Let’s Celebrate!

Miss Poison Being Real, Cats, Facebook, Fibromyalgia, Kittens, Musings, Pain, Petty Garbage, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Support, Thoughts, Toxic People, Work, Writer, Writers, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
We know where you live Mommy, and it is not beneath us to display our utter cuteness for you to gain food, treats, or head scratches.
We know where you live Mommy, and it is not beneath us to display our utter cuteness for you to gain food, treats, or head scratches.

I have no idea why Friday, Saturday, and Sunday have become my favorite days of the week, but lately, I just can’t handle week days. Does anyone else feel like this?

I’ve had a rough week. I’ve been in a lot of pain and have required way more sleep than any single person my age should need (Still young, still fabulous. 😛 ). I work and then I look at the time, realizing that I’ve done a lot in short bursts of time, but that now that I’ve gotten work done, it’s time to close my eyes “for a little while”. The next thing I know, the day is over. I wake up from that brief little “nap”, check the time, and my cat and kitten are wrapped around each other. Apparently some kind of love fest goes on when I’m down for the count. I almost always have to be in bed and half asleep or completely out of it before they go into “love mode”.

Passive, sweet cat. Troublesome, but incredibly loving kitten. (You can see their photos on my About page.) They’re good for each other and they’re good for me, because without them, I wouldn’t get out of bed at all. There are many mornings when they’re both pacing around me, marking my face with theirs (kitten does this), to encourage me to go downstairs and give them breakfast. If that doesn’t work, they start bringing toys into the bed. I have no idea where either of them are, but I know that if the food is not delivered in a timely fashion, they will try to curry my favor with gifts. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve both placed gifts in my bathtub as a reminder, as if I’ve ever forgotten to feed them.

I’m VERY lucky, they’re relatively well-behaved and sweet. They’ve got attitude, but mostly, they know that they are loved and safe. When I’m in a terrible amount of pain, one or both of them will get into bed as soon as I’m comfortable and either lay by my feet or by my head, and they do not move until they see me calm down and fall asleep, and even then, I still wake up with them close by. There is a sweetness to that which makes me emotional at times. My cat is a lot less openly loving than my kitten, but I have a bond with both of them and I see how they call for me and come to visit me when I’m working. Basically, I get treated like one of them. Perhaps this is why they often place toys under my butt and then try to bite me awake. Sassy’s been doing this since she was a baby, and at 19 months, it wasn’t that long ago that she was the ruler of the roost and tiny, aggressively shoving me awake and demanding food constantly. Now that there are two little beasts, I have them on a schedule. She’s no longer interested in most games (my little one wants to play, but also self-entertains), but is happy to bite my feet or grab my ankle for a nip if she’s feel froggy.

Now that Miss Sass has a constant playmate, she’s no longer ripping me to shreds and biting me. Her breed isn’t known for a lot of verbal communication, so she spent ten months aggressively hurting me several times a day until I found her the perfect little companion. It was NOT love at first sight. It took about a week or so, and they slowly became obsessed with each other. Mini is also incredibly obsessed with me, but she’s still a baby.

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What else is going on? Oh, yes! Because I’m a total hypocrite (And honest enough to admit it.), I am back on Facebook. My original account is still up in the air. Facebook and I have exchanged countless e-mails, and nothing has been worked out, so I waited a while and established a new account. I intentionally linked it to my cell phone which somehow authenticates that I am indeed a “real person” and not the countless things I was accused of in all of their e-mails back in January. If you want to pal around with me, let me know and I will send you my new hypocritical info.

Speaking of which, Facebook has changed quite a bit since I was gone. I am pretty sure someone peed in everyone’s coffee this morning because for every 30 people who liked something I said, I had one person go ballistic. To avoid future problems, I’m keeping a low profile. However, when subjects are open for discussion and you don’t know a person, I think it’s crucial not to call them “OCD” or “rude”, especially since you’re clearly not understanding the context. I was called both this morning by two absolute idiots. Mind you, gutless wonders like to hide behind their computers and spew horse shit.

My first thought was “Go fuck yourself!”, but I decided not to lower myself to their levels. Second, throwing obsessive compulsive disorder around as some sort of joke or insult is incredibly rude, and when one is not a healthcare professional, one has no right to say that to someone they do not know and have never met. That actually IS rude. Disagreeing with someone isn’t rude, we’re all entitled to do so.

I’m a supportive writer. I’m going to be honest, polite, and concise because that’s how I am. I’ve NEVER been rude on Facebook or any form of social media that I am aware of. If anyone has ever read my work and deemed me rude, then that was YOUR perception and not the facts. I’m not Ms. Sweetness & Light, I do not throw rainbows at you, nor do I shoot sugared unicorns when one deserves venom.

There is a fine line between sharing thoughts and being a bitch. I don’t bring out the bitch side unless it is warranted and I don’t do it on Facebook because I have a professional reputation to uphold. If I wouldn’t say something to your face, then I certainly wouldn’t say it behind your back or in a public forum. That’s not how I operate.

People like to throw my astrological sign into play in their “defense” quite a bit, but the truth is, I’m a pretty controlled Scorpio female. I might not always have been, but I learned a long time ago to get the negative aspects under control or they would control me. Lesson learned, and once broken of those habits, I did not return to them.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That’s a load of shit. Words can hurt, they do hurt, and people throw them out there like it’s no big deal. I’m known for my “say anything” policy, but there ARE things I absolutely won’t say because I have morals, dignity, manners, self-respect, and boundaries. Some things are so below the belt that you simply don’t go there. You can think them, but then you must let them go because that kind of negativity breeds more negativity, and it’s unhealthy.

More and more, people are offended by anything and everything, but they care little for who THEY might offend. They have no manners or coping mechanisms for difference of opinion or basic relationship skills. Junior high school drama wasn’t cute in junior high school, and I won’t tolerate it as an adult. By all means, disagree with me. That’s fine. If you don’t know the context in which I mean something, don’t assume, ask. Judge not lest ye be judged.

Overall, I’m glad to have the account for my cousins and the few real friends I have, and for specific things that I’ve discussed here many times, but outside of that, I realize that I don’t miss it and that it’s a terrible waste of time. Who knew I’d grow to love Twitter?! By the way, thank you Lillian for suggesting it, and for clearly being a friend to me when others are full of crap (Link to her blog is attached to her name.). You go away for less than two months and you actually find out who your REAL friends & family are, both on and off social media. How utterly pathetic. True colors are shining bright and a lot of people are chicken-shit yellow. C’est la vie.

Also, there is a brand new blog, started by one of my best friends, that I am going to be interviewed for. I will make sure the link goes up ASAP.

And on that note, I hope you all have a lovely weekend. If you’re an NCAA fan, I hope you’re cheering for my team tonight in the Sweet 16. 🙂 GO DUKE!

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

nobullshit     

Now Please, GO FUCK YOURSELF

Miss Poison Being Real, Facebook, Honesty, Poison In Lethal Doses, Things That Enrage Me, Unfiltered, Unnecessary Drama, Writing , , ,

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I heard back from Facebook this afternoon.

I apologize to anyone that followed the Poison In Lethal Doses page or that had me as a friend via the site (you still have me as a friend, and you should know how to find me via phone if we’re really close, or e-mail.).

I want everyone here to know that even after confirming my identity, they have made this claim:

- Your account must list your authentic name and birthday. (It IS authentic, as in FUCKING REAL. I think I know when I was born, it's on all my legal documents! Are we going to crack down on all the hate mongers and question their authenticity? How many people have bullied children into SUICIDE? You're seriously worried about ME being REAL? I am astounded. Is Facebook run by modern-day Nazi's?)
- Personal accounts must represent individual people only. It's a violation of 
Facebook policy to use a profile to represent anything other than yourself (ex: 
celebrities, pets, ideas, objects). (Who the FUCK was I "representing" other than myself?! If you can't tell me the truth about what I supposedly did, you're lying. I don't interact enough on there to have violated anything.)
- Using your account to repeatedly contact strangers for business or dating 
purposes is not allowed. (Yeah, because on top of everything else in my life, I am a hooker and JUST on Facebook. Seriously?!)

Further proof of Facebook's cancerous tumor resides with a writer's group I joined. I was not the only writer/editor in the group and pretty much every editor was looking for work. One in particular said "Will work to pay my rent." I know the problem resides here because as soon as I created a new account to apologize to anyone that might need to know my whereabouts, with the intention of deleting the piece of shit later on today, and joined the group, I was locked out of the new account almost immediately. You don't need to be a brain surgeon to be able to put two and two together.  

If you are a member of this group, be forewarned. I was one of the first 100 members and it has now grown to nearly 3000 people. Someone in that circle has issues, and everyone ought to be very cautious.

Thank you to Facebook for proving what I have always said about it. I apologize to the few people I actually supported wholeheartedly via the site. I will continue to follow you as I am able.

As for Facebook, GO FUCK YOURSELF. And please be advised that I will let anyone and everyone know what a bunch of !@#$suckers you truly are. 

Perhaps I will start a Poison In Lethal Doses Pinterest page instead. As far as I know, they seem to appreciate my honesty and whimsy.  

Love to you all, HONESTLY. 

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

The Truth Is…

Miss Poison Being Real, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , ,

Fibromyalgia+Warrior

I am sick of it all. I am exhausted beyond measure. I feel emotionally shredded.

I’m tired of people trying to emulate me. I realize they lack vision, manners, and basic common sense. No matter what people say, we’re not all “born with it”.

Fibromyalgia pain is gutting me. There are too many days I cannot walk, and many more where I cannot function. And yet, I keep working my tail off.

I believe in empowering others, especially women.

I believe in loyalty, love, friendship, and being able to combine the three. I believe in being a devoted friend, no matter what. I don’t believe in keeping score. Life isn’t a hockey game and friends shouldn’t try to rack up points with one another.

I believe in being a good sister, but there are days even I have my limits.

I believe in being a good cousin, but again, I have my limits.

I believe in being a good niece.

I believe in being a good partner, but I don’t believe in being with someone because I am afraid of being alone. I’m not. I would rather be alone than be in a bad relationship. Hell, I’d rather read a book than be in a bad relationship!

I will always stand my ground. I will not waver in who and what I am. I am confident in the person I have become. I am not without my faults, but I’m well-aware of what they are. No one is perfect.

I believe in talking someone down off a ledge. Unfortunately, I can’t talk myself down off of mine.

I have faith, intelligence, strength, talent, and skills. And yet, where Fibromyalgia dwells, pain often tries to rob me of it all.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Freelance Doesn’t Mean Free

Miss Poison Being Real, Clients, Creativity, Editing, Exhaustion, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Things That Enrage Me, Unbelievable Crap, Work, Writers, Writing , , , , , ,

Some days, I am utterly appalled by the audacity of others. There is a fine line between offering to help someone as a form of empowering another woman, and then dealing with the opposite side of the coin where someone wants you to do a job, but then wants you to lower your rate.

When I work with someone for the first time on a novel length project, or something larger (like a trilogy), I respectfully ask for 30-50% up front as a down payment. This protects me if the person eventually backs out. If they do, I’ve at least gotten something for my hard work. When a person jumps on my schedule and then tells me the down payment is “too high” (By my standards, it was actually too low.), but already admitted she was going to pay a hell of a lot more to another editor who could not take her until the end of next month, it grates on my hard-working nerves. I don’t like being screwed with.

Just like everyone else, I have bills to pay. They come every month, like clockwork, and none of them are willing to negotiate with me. Sometimes, you don’t eat because someone wants to wait two weeks to pay you. It sucks.

I’ve discussed my philosophy before about hiring an editor and it still stands solid: COME TO PLAY. Expect to pay. Yes, you can “shop around” for someone less expensive, but inevitably, you do get what you pay for.

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve done thousands of dollars worth of work for little to no money. It’s terribly insulting to someone with 20 years of experience, but a job is a job. I will take a proofreading job if it will pay a bill or put food on the table. I will beta read for someone if that means I’m being paid. It’s not fun, but it is what it is.

I truly wish every aspiring writer knew how to use spell check, understood that commas are crucial, and didn’t have a negative attitude towards having to pay someone for WORK. Lets face facts, no one goes to work for free. You may love your job (I know a handful of people that do.), but ultimately you love your paycheck as well. Even a shitty paycheck can pay the rent/mortgage, pay for food, keep the lights on, etc. As a woman that has to do it all herself, I find myself less and less amused by the greed of others.

Alas, I’m simply venting. I have a migraine and because I’ve had terrible struggles with sleep of late, I know it will be a long time before my head hits the pillow. On the plus side, I have several hours all to myself tomorrow afternoon into the early evening. I am FINALLY going to change my hair color after saying I would do so for the past month. That might seem silly, but a company did send me a product to use and write reviews, and that’s one of the fun things about having a beauty blog on the side. I really think going back to that for a while and allowing myself to be creative would be beneficial to my health. I’m sure no one wants to read my bitching. God, please grant me the Serenity not to murder all of these idiots.

Here’s hoping tomorrow is a superior day for us all. 🙂

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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