Pieces Of Me
Speaker Of Powerful Words
“Speaker Of Powerful Words” was recently added to my professional bio. It makes me laugh because I don’t always realize how much power I put into the words I use. If you heard how I say things in my everyday life, you’d quickly learn it’s not any different from how I apply my voice to the written word.
One of the things I like about myself the most is that I don’t have dual-personalities. The way I write is the same way I speak in every format possible. Be it e-mail, letters, text messages, phone calls; I remain the same. It’s one of the things my closest friends have pointed out to me, and it’s one of the things they most love and respect about me.
Not everyone can handle unadulterated honesty or unfiltered realness. I, occasionally, struggle with the things people say to me when they are said with malice, disrespect, or a severe lack of clarity. 95% of the time, I wouldn’t say something with malicious intent to someone I care about. The tiny back-end percentage would be higher, but you haven’t met my extended family. I’d believe I was adopted if I didn’t know with absolute certainty that I wasn’t. I used to dream of being rescued by my “real parents” for many years, but now I know that the only person who can rescue me is…me.
Words do have incredible power. It’s important to use your words wisely, even if, on occasion, it turns you into a hypocrite. No one is perfect and there are often moments in life where we don’t always practice what we preach, or follow the path we’ve personally suggested.
People often come to me with problems. They require advice and they need a trusted ear. I almost always find that they’re struggling between logic and intuition. As someone who lives an intuitive based life, I struggle with their issues because no matter what I say, they desperately want to see the good in the behavior of others, even when they’re being hurt and disrespected, or worse. I don’t care what other people may think: Good does not reside in the heart and soul of every single person in this world. Hell, jails are full of rapists, murderers, and all sorts of living proof, but it clearly bears repeating. Not everyone is good, not everyone has good intentions, and not everyone is 100% genuine. It’s sad, but it’s a fact.
In life, I take everything and everyone on a case-by-case basis. I can be a really nice person (No, I’m not kidding. Get to know me.), but if I’m shown the ugliest side of someone, the niceness goes away in 0.1 seconds. If you throw the “bitch card’ at me, you’re showing me an ugly side that isn’t something I respect. If you break it out once and I never see it again, I move on, the relationship continues in whatever form it resides in, but I will NEVER forget that I saw it. There’s a reason Scorpio is attached to my on-line profile, it’s not just my astrological sign; I can and will see through your bullshit. I have the power to sting, and I’m incredibly self-aware. I cannot unhear or unsee red flags, whatever they may be. I attribute that to being intuitive and living my life based on sensory perception.
I don’t understand people who will spit on you and tell you it’s raining. I don’t understand passive-aggressive people who turn the tiniest comment into the issue of the century. Far too many people struggle with difference of opinion. It’s their way or the highway. Unfortunately, they don’t understand that life is full of grey area. I’m a person of extremes, but I spend a lot of time in the grey, so I understand it maybe too well. I am baffled by people who refuse to expand their own minds and learn. How else do you grow? The stagnant life is pitiful indeed.
Whenever I see “Speaker Of Powerful Words” on my bio, I feel as though it comes with immense responsibility. People talk a lot about athletes being role models for our children, but WE should be role models for our children and our children’s children. We should be the teachers who inspire them with words and actions to be better people. There is an exceptionally long list of ways to go about that.
I believe it’s important not to treat children like babies and talk to them like they’re morons. By all means, allow them to have their childhood, but do not be afraid to tackle the tough stuff. Uninformed children, or children that spend their entire lives being lied to by their parents, become insecure and completely unsure of themselves with age. They lack much-needed self-confidence. I have seen this carry over into adulthood, so please, avoid the bullshit and be real.
No one ever spoke “baby talk” to me, so when I started speaking, I spoke in full sentences. That was one of the ways I knew that adults took me seriously. I wasn’t encouraged to be the “next President of the United States” (who the hell would want that job?! No one sane!), but all of my talents were fostered.
My athletic ability was not ignored. I spent a huge chunk of my life as a gymnast, starting at age 4. Later on when my voice teacher called my mother and told her that I could sing, really sing, and that she wanted to tutor me privately, I got voice lessons. To this day, I still sing.
When my writing ability became my voice, it was not ignored. I was enrolled in a performing arts school at the time because of my singing, but every English, History, and Science teacher was completely blown away by me. I have incredibly fond memories of them and how encouraging they were of me. They all wanted me to move on and shine.
When I moved on to major in journalism and creative writing, that’s when I came upon my first real critic. When a professor tells you you’re “ruining the class” because of what you write and tells you he will continue to fail you until you drop the class, you can either keep going or you can laugh. I did both. He’d belittle me three times a week and I’d go home laughing because I was being published for thinking outside the box. In a room full of roughly 30 of the best writers in that part of New York City at the time, he singled me out constantly. Nothing I wrote was ever “good enough”. It only made me better. It gave me incredible vision for the future.
The years have come and gone and I have yet to meet someone who agrees with him. And if I did…I’d laugh.
I may not be everyone’s cup of coffee or tea, and that is perfectly acceptable to me, but at the end of each day, I am a speaker of powerful words. I salute you for reading my work and clicking LIKE.
Enjoy the updated bio and by all means, feel free to follow me on Twitter. Anyone that would also like to connect with me on Facebook can message me.
Thank you to #ChiropracticDaily for featuring my second article on migraines. It is most appreciated.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Plagued
I’ve been plagued by pain in so many ways over the last week and a half, that I really haven’t been able to finish anything I’ve started to write. Work, at the moment, is that thing I should be doing, but can’t because sitting here for 5-12 hours editing is excruciatingly painful. I won’t lie; I feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it. I shouldn’t, but I do.
I have been extraordinarily exhausted. If I’m up longer than 12 hours, I will start to fall asleep wherever I am. By 6:20 last night, I seriously thought about getting into my bed without my favorite blanket. I went downstairs to pull it out of the dryer, basking in its warmth. There’s something incredibly cozy about a blanket fresh from the dryer, especially when you have chills and need to go to bed. Once again, I was in bed before the sun went into set mode. Sometimes it’s just a 3-5 hour nap, and other times, like last night, it was a total “lights out” moment. I rarely sleep straight through the night. I woke up once sometime after one to yell about something (it might have been my wicked next door neighbor’s new dog, which must have come home with them from their vacation because they’ve never had a dog since moving in. The dog, naturally, is as annoying as they are. It barks at its own shadow, and everything else it can see. I don’t want to hear your dog at 1:00 a.m. or 5:00 a.m. Train the beast! I’d be able to tune it out if their backyard wasn’t right on top of my bedroom window.) and after that I didn’t wake up until kitten walked on my head. As supreme “can opener”, this makes me a favorite between cat and kitten. Especially since kitten is always hungry, unless she’s sleeping.
I haven’t had much to say this week. I have ideas and other things swirling inside my head, all of which will come to fruition at some point, but mostly I am tired, stressed, and in so much pain, it’s hard to see straight.
You have absolutely no idea how much time you spend sitting until sitting becomes the single most painful thing you can do. My back and I are at odds. Every single thing is painful. Walking, standing, bending down to pick something up off the floor, even being in bed is uncomfortable. I lucked out yesterday and was finally able to do the laundry I hadn’t been able to do over the weekend. I didn’t want to make my back any worse after Saturday morning. It’s bruised, sore, and achy, but I think with continued rest, it will be all right. If it’s not, you can all send me weird things while I’m in the hospital (No cheese, Lucy! LOL.).
I hope everyone is having a happy, productive week. Me? I’m glad it’s almost over.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Falling Apart
I apologize for not writing yesterday. I fully intended to do so, I’ve had a few things partially fleshed out, but by 8:00 a.m., I was not in a position to do anything. I couldn’t even bend down!
Something in my lower back popped yesterday morning while I was scrolling through messages on my cell phone. For most people, that wouldn’t mean an awful lot. It might mean popping a few OTC pain meds and resting for a few days, no real damage done, but for someone with lower lumbar spinal issues, this meant shooting pain in more directions than I could fathom at the time. As the day progressed, it became pain in my entire body. I have no idea the what/why/how of any of it, just that I am having immense difficulty struggling through so much pain because there’s no end in sight.
As of this moment, the pain has settled into my head as a migraine with maddening sinus pain and pressure. It’s past the point of my normal pain threshold, so if you hear screaming in the distance, it’s me.
All written posts will be suspended until I figure out what the hell this is and how long it’s going to affect me. I’m no good to anyone if I cannot see past the pain and cannot sit long enough to type anything worth reading.
I hope everyone has a good Sunday. Life is short, make it count.
Some People, They Can’t Just Move On…
“Some people, they can’t just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me… I don’t know. I didn’t want to fix it, to forget. It wasn’t something that was broken. It’s just…something that happened. And like that hole, I’m just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time. ” ―Sarah Dessen
*In Memory Of My Grandfather…Великою людиною дійсно ніколи не може бути втрачено або забуто- A great man can never truly be lost or forgotten.*
The Low Bid
If you’re any kind of freelancer, you know, all too well, what the “low bid” means. In today’s market, it is something I find utterly distasteful. You cannot put a price on creativity, but apparently many people are going around claiming they cannot afford it. Okay, then don’t ask for it for free, and don’t disrespect those of us who work our asses off doing what you are incapable of.
A few years ago, I had a long-term client leave me for $100 less PER YEAR so she could go to another editor. It was a big contract. Instead of talking to me, she waited until the final month of the contract and while we were in negotiations to renew, she told me she had found someone willing to charge $100 a year less than her current contract, which was paid out in monthly installments. It wasn’t $100 a month less, it was $100 total. That’s less than $10 a month in “savings”.
If she had told me ahead of time that there was an issue, I would have dropped the yearly price in order to keep the job, but overall, it wasn’t worth the argument once she’d drawn the line in the sand. If you have no loyalty to me, I will have absolutely none to you in kind. My NDA’s with this client have expired, but I have never publicly or professionally told anyone what she did, and I’ve never called her out, despite the fact that I find it deplorable. If you’ve been a client for more than a month, I tend to be pretty loyal and helpful, but this was the epitome of insulting and disrespectful. It also showed me the level of this person’s character. “I wish you well, but you’re on my shit list.”
We are all working with budgets these days, and that is a result of daily life, the job and housing market, and the economy. It is not uncommon to see people with calculators at the grocery store, myself included, or a bag full of coupons. It doesn’t phase me at all for someone to ask me to work within their budget, but when you try to cheapen my, or someone else’s hard work, that’s when it pisses me off.
I have people who come to me with jobs, thinking that a penny is worth 1000-5000 words of editing. In most cases, that is several pages worth of work, and it could very well be more than an hour of my time. So, not only is the answer no, it’s HELL NO. Yes, they can hire someone in a different country to do it, someone whose first language isn’t English, but I am a firm believer that you get what you pay for, in all things. Unless an article of clothing is actually on sale, I suspect that the lower price means it will need to be replaced in 3-12 months. I liken it to buying a bra at Walmart. It might be $10, or less, and who doesn’t want to save money? But it won’t last as long as the $80 bra I got on sale for $25 that is well made, and is something I wear often, something that I’ve had in perfect condition for 6 years. That’s a simple fact. You DO get what you pay for.
Low bidding an editor who spends months on your work or a graphic designer who you’re asking to make miracles happen is disgustingly disrespectful to me. You want sixteen different things done, but you expect it done for pennies.
I have a graphic designer I refer work to because she has the experience, work ethic, and talent. I don’t care if it’s a brand logo, a t-shirt design, or a book cover. If you lowball her, I am going to hunt you down. If you’re going to disrespect her, I am going to find you and make your life extremely unpleasant. If you’re selling a product, I am going to personally make sure no one I know buys the product. With a book, I say “live and let live”, but I will never forget the rudeness or the disrespect. I have a LONG memory and if you’ve made my shit list, walk very carefully through life. I am not afraid to speak up or speak out.
I am open to working with people who get it, who realize that fairness and decency go a long way. But today, and from here on out, I am unwilling to work with ignorant assholes who will go behind my back, or the back of those they are referred to, and expect us to demean ourselves for a buck.
I am not a whore for my line of work. What you choose to make out of that is your issue, not mine.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
When I First Started Writing…
When I first started writing, the advice that has stayed with me for 28 years is this: Write what you think, write what you feel, and write what you know. It doesn’t matter if someone doesn’t like it.
There may have been some profanity thrown into the mix, but that was the gist of it. I’ve been writing ever since.
I was a quiet, shy, observant child. Painfully so. Writing became this exemplary form of communication for me. It is through writing that I discovered my voice, the strength in that voice, and it allowed me to become incredibly comfortable speaking in public. I used to avoid eye contact and concentrate on the words I’d written, but now I make a point of making eye contact with people as I speak and memorizing several lines in advance to avoid looking down at what I’ve prepared. I’ve found that this alternative form of being even more direct than usual actually makes people uncomfortable. They look away, but they don’t stop listening.
To this day, I am still quiet and observant. I’m not the type of person that pushes herself upon anyone in terms of friendship, or even conversation. I don’t walk up to strangers and have conversations with them for no reason. I tend to keep to myself and my circle of friends, a circle that I am drawing tighter each day.
In my core group of friends, I am the only writer. I’m also the one who communicates differently than everyone else, probably because I do write and putting my thoughts down, in any form, is generally how I keep from killing others, but it’s also how I fight for the things that are most important to me.
Of late I’ve been reading a lot of different statements about writing from people on different levels of the spectrum, and I either find myself inspired or irritated.
I’ve said it before, but it bears saying again: Proverbial puking words onto a page does not make you a writer. Cohesiveness in storytelling might not even make you a writer. Sad, but true. We are all different. The people who drive me insane are the ones who have, quite literally, been writing for 15 minutes and expect fame and fortune.
Getting published traditionally and being successful to the point where you can quit your day job is a longshot. You might very well have a greater shot at winning Powerball or Mega Millions. A writer I love talks about that a lot, but apparently no one is listening to him. However, I’ve read all of his books since about 2003, so I don’t perceive my work as “perfect”, “fantastic”, or “superior” because I see greatness in so many people’s work. It might be someone on the New York Times Best Sellers’ List, but it might also be a little-known blogger or an Indie author. So many people have great stories to tell, and many more do not.
Several years ago I was in Barnes & Noble with my Aunt. They were remodeling that particular store and the genre I write in had been moved around. There were probably several thousand books, all one genre, all potential “competition”. I could have had an outright panic attack looking closely at them, but I didn’t. I decided that there was room left on the shelf for me. I did have a moment of serious doubt, but it quickly passed. The fact that people have told me they love my characters and would buy my books, based solely on reading a few chapters, is special to me.
This platform is where I come to be myself. There can be a plethora of emotion here, and I do not judge myself, or others, for any of it. In my professional work as an editor, I am supremely honest and direct, just as I am in every other aspect of my life. And when I’m dealing with my fiction material, it’s not that different. It’s still my voice, harsh honesty, and intensely strong characters that you will either like, love, or love-to-hate. I like, respect, and appreciate the honesty within the fiction because that’s what helps breathe life into it.
In the future, I hope to be able to share it all with you. For now, I’ll be here… Writing what I think, feel, and know. I don’t care if it’s liked or not.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Days
The days are filled with terror. Problems piled up so high.
Panic sets in, as soon as the birds start chirping.
Sleepless nights, filled with anguish.
Nothing solved from day-to-day, constantly being turned away.
No one has answers and no one seems to care, absolving themselves of any and all responsibility.
Reliability is rare, it cannot be depended on.
Seemingly, everything is rare, and nothing can truly be trusted.
Pain is a constant, from head to toe.
But there’s no one there to listen, because they’ve all made it clear they don’t care.
The sound is overwhelming, discovering the noise is all within my mind.
These days don’t get better, and I just drift away…
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Unpreachable
(Author’s Note: Happy Canada Day!)
I don’t like being preached to. I’m sure most of us don’t. By “preach”, I mean someone on their high horse with an agenda who is an absolute know-it-all and doesn’t know when to stop.
Initially I let it slide because it wasn’t a daily diet, but now… It’s gotten so bad that I’ve nearly said “Enough!” and “Shut the fuck up!” multiple times within a few days, as if I’m a cast member on The Real Housewives of insert whichever city you watch. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.
I know someone who talks to me like I am an uneducated moron (she’s one of many, but I’ll stay on topic) with the I.Q. of a donkey. I liken it to when I’m blonde and people talk to me slowly, as if I won’t catch half of what they’re saying. This changes the second I go back to being a brunette, but I digress… She has been a part of something for about eight years compared to my involvement for, oh, my ENTIRE LIFE. Call me insane, but I feel that gives me the advantage in terms of knowledge, but you know how know-it-alls are. If it’s not coming from them, it’s as if it’s never been said before. The fact that there’s mileage between us is the only reason I haven’t choked her to death. I’ve actually said “This has to stop.” repeatedly, but she doesn’t seem to be able to comprehend what I am saying.
I do not believe in getting into arguments via social media. If I have something to say, I will say it. I don’t need to hide behind my computer, tablet, or phone. I’m direct to the point of being terrifying, and I really don’t care if that bothers someone. I don’t care if you’re a friend, family member, or a fucking stranger, I am NOT going to engage with an asshole. Factoring in that this particular subject has been brought up repeatedly via phone calls, e-mail, text message, and now Facebook, I’ve HAD IT. I tried listening. I tried being kind. Hell, I repeatedly tried changing the subject. But no… The insanity is ever-present.

I’m not two. Even at two, I still made a lot of my own decisions. No one has ever told me what to think, how to believe, who to trust, how to view the world, etc. So please explain to me why anyone that knows me for even 20 minutes feels the need to do so?! I haven’t had a lobotomy. I am aware of what goes on in this world, but it is not my life’s work to “convince” people and bring them over to my way of thinking. I’m not a recruiter. Telling people they should think for themselves and then telling them what to think is called hypocrisy and I am many things, but a hypocrite isn’t one of them. I suspect she gets this nasty little habit from her mother. (She’s not going to read this and yes, we are related.)
We are all entitled to think the way we want to think and have our own personal beliefs. Even if you’re a moron or a douchebag, your thoughts are something no one can steal from you. I wish they would, but I stand by my word. However, I’m not going to be told I should “feel guilty” for “not doing more” to help with what she has decided is her life’s work when I know for a fact that it is not mine. I don’t need to come over to anyone else’s way of thinking if my beliefs do not coincide. Unlike the person in question, I know my limitations. I know when to say no, I know when to say enough, and I know when to say STOP.
I’ve decided that the healthiest thing to do is put some serious space between this person and I. If I allow the nuttiness to continue, the next words out of my mouth will be “Shut.The.Fuck.Up! Learn something else to talk about.” Harsh? Not if you knew this person. There is only so much I can listen to on a loop and the same topic every single day isn’t exactly a Billboard Top 100. So, I am going to ignore all e-mails, phone calls, and text messages until she buys a clue, or a vowel.
How do you deal with preachy nut jobs? Please let me know in the comments.













