“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” -Linda Grayson
I openly admit that I make no promises about the sharing of chocolate. 😉 Most people won’t touch the chocolate I like any way, which is a good thing.
Pieces Of Me
How To Be A Client An Editor Wants To Work With
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.
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.
Do Everything…
“Do everything with your whole heart, or not at all. Don’t put up with lies or with people who lie to you. Don’t risk hurting people just for the fun of it. And lastly, your best foot shouldn’t be put forward; it should be with you at all times— right there beside the other one.” ―C. JoyBell C.
Soothing The Beast
Thank you to those that inquired about my health on Tuesday. I genuinely appreciate that. I was 100% better yesterday. Apart from a little achiness, it was surreal to physically feel nothing. These are very rare days indeed, but all I felt able to handle on an emotional level was some paperwork and phone calls, and submitting a proposal for another developmental editing job, something short to keep my brain active. There was something about an impending thunderstorm that was calming to me in some way.
The storm itself was lackluster, to say the least. A few rumbles of non-threatening thunder and a small amount of rain. Pssh! They call that a storm worthy of alarms going off on my phone?! I reached a point where I muted everything on the phone and spent hours listening to it buzz occasionally. I don’t know about all of you, but when the rain is overhead, it’s a safe bet I already know it’s there and I don’t require an alert that can seemingly pierce its way three houses down. Technology.
Today is a brand new day with a whole other set of issues. The pain came roaring back. I thought I was sleeping, but kitten was here, multiple times, to inform me that my presence was requested in the kitchen. She learned how to open the kitchen cabinets about two weeks ago, but apparently in her learning efforts, cans was not on the list. I fed her and walked over to cat, because she’s been acting strangely and I will not open a can of food for her until she’s standing in front of me to truly let me know she wants it. She walks away a lot and it has become wasteful, and tiresome. No, the little espresso bean was content to sit in front of the patio door and watch the birds and bunnies, she wasn’t interested in food or attention. She’ll come looking for me when she needs one or the other. This is the problem with having a picky animal that only wants to eat when she decides it’s time. Precisely who is in charge around here??
I have scoured the forecast and decided that tomorrow afternoon is better to run errands, it’s going to be too hot to think today. Granted, errands on a Friday aren’t the best idea in the world, that’s when almost everyone else has the same plan, but it’s the only idea I’ve got. Once the temperature drops tomorrow, it won’t be 90 degrees, it’ll be in the low 70’s and that’s something I can handle for a few hours.
The fact that Monday takes us into June is quite disturbing to me. This year is going by a lot quicker than expected… I supposed they always do, to some extent, but it’s still weird. I’m sure I’ll feel that way a year from now too.
Okay. I am off in search of breakfast and then I am committing myself to an hour or so with the manuscript from hell. I want it DONE, GONE, DELIVERED. If I look at it any longer, I am certain insanity will set in. Wish me good luck with the final 200 pages (I swear, it keeps growing!). The fact that 30 pages of notes, if not more, have been added, should tell you exactly what I’m working with here. Note to self: Raise your prices. Enough with this fairness bullshit!
Talk to you all soon. 🙂
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
If You Have A Sledgehammer
I woke up this morning in sheer agony. Have you ever experienced pain where you are almost certain there are knives in your back? Picture it for a second. Yeah, it’s not pretty and the concept that one can feel such pain without actually having gaping wounds is astounding to me. No one should have to experience this kind of pain, though I do have a short list of people who’d make the cut if God ever wanted to grant me such power. 😉
Sadly, the pain in my back/spine almost pales in comparison to the gut-wrenching stomach pain I am currently experiencing. I have no idea what’s causing it, which is always scary. The reason I’m not rushing to the emergency room right this very second is simple: I am 99% certain it will pass. I’m on a homeopathic remedy for some of the pain I am experiencing (I prefer things that work as opposed to things that mask the suffering.) and even though most people do not experience any stomach related symptoms from taking it, a few people have reported stomach pain or other stomach related issues as a side effect, so there is always the off-chance that it can happen. In turn, I need to wait it out.
Of course, it’s never that simple.
As I have been doing the “wait it out” period, I smacked my head into the edge of my door trying to snag a toy for kitten. I idiotically threw it over the door during our game of fetch and cat was blocking her path to predatory enjoyment. I wanted to retrieve it without disturbing cat, who was snoozing, but the second I smacked my head they both went flying down the stairs. No concern for me at all, they’re all about self-preservation in the suburbs. LOL. I’m pretty sure they’ll check on me later. You know, when food is involved.
Despite the three-day weekend, today still feels eerily like a Monday to me in its groggy irritability. There’s no amount of caffeine that can conquer that. These days, even with partially decent sleep and a slightly higher than normal caffeine ratio in my bloodstream, I am still ready to fall on the floor every night by 10:00 PM, if not earlier. Sometimes I manage to squeeze an extra hour or so out of myself, but I honestly cannot keep my eyes open once I reach that sleepy state where I’m actually slurring my words (No, alcohol is not involved.). Given any opportunity to close my eyes for 30 minutes, it is almost certain that I will fall asleep wherever I happen to be. The next time I am stuck on-line for 40 minutes at Walmart, I am going to ask for a pillow.
I hope that everyone had a wonderful weekend, wherever you may be, and that none of my readers are dealing with the aftermath of tornadoes or flooding.
I’m off to sit in the dark and be nauseous. Wish me luck.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Talent Is Helpful…
I think talent is the most crucial thing to have as a writer, along with the ability to follow through.
Total Recall
Sometimes when you remember the worst days that have occurred throughout your life, the simple notion of recollection can make you deathly ill. Everyone is different in this respect. Some people have no reaction at all, and others mourn for years, feeling as though their lives are immersed in various forms of tragedy. The fact that I have total recall of events like this makes it harder for me to heal and “move on”, though I am a firm believer that we should all go through the different stages of grief in our own time and at our own pace. No one should ever tell you that something happened “so long ago” and to “get over it”. If they do, you have my full permission to beat them with the weapon of your choice and tell them to “get over it”. (Disclaimer: I am not promoting violence.)
Sixteen years ago, a friend of mine lost his life. He should have lived. I’m thinking of his kids today and it makes me nauseous knowing how their father was snatched from them so early in their lives. Alas, setting my emotions aside on this particular subject is difficult. I could go on and on about it for a year, but it would only end up being repetitious. So for now, I have to move on to another subject, but it’s hard to forget. 😦
I spend no time at all worrying about whether or not people like me. Likeability is highly overrated, and it reminds me of all the people-pleasing children in kindergarten who, oftentimes, become people-pleasing adults. That this is taught by parents and continues to happen makes me sick to my stomach. Who are people helping here, other than psychiatrists and therapists? I was raised with a very simple concept: Not everyone is going to like you and it is almost guaranteed that you won’t like everyone either, so just be yourself. Thank you Mom! 🙂 She didn’t just give me good genes, she gave me an exceptional mind and didn’t foster negativity.
Why am I talking about this? Because it disturbs me how society seeks constant approval. Do you like this? Am I pretty? Should I get Botox? Should I get breast implants? Do you like these shoes? What do you think of the car I just bought (And by all means, let me tell you exactly how much it cost, too.)? SERIOUSLY?! When did we stop asking ourselves what WE want and like? Why do we give a shit what the “color of the year” is? If you can explain any of this nonsense, you’ve already thought about it way too hard. It’s a statement, it doesn’t require a response.
All of the things that matter most in life: Health, happiness, family… It’s damn near thrown on the side of the road like unwanted garbage. There are people who would kill to have their health in tact. There are people who are desperately seeking even just small aspects of happiness. And family? Well, everyone’s interpretation is different. As long as there is love, care, support, honesty, laughter, not to mention safety, then that is a huge part of what makes a family. As a product of an abusive home and someone whose mother ultimately put her foot down and said “No more.” and left, I only wish she’d done it sooner. I often wonder if things would be different now if she had, but I try not to look in the rearview mirror too often because it’s unhealthy to be so distracted when there’s so much in front of you.
Memorial Day Weekend is the unofficial start of summer here in the United States, but it’s also about remembering why we have the freedoms that we do and honoring those who have fought for this country. I am not a fan of summer (and it’s way too cold at the moment to even think about the intensity of summer heat and humidity), but I have family members and friends who have served in different branches of the armed forces, and I salute them all.
No matter where you reside in this world, take stock of the things that are most important this weekend and take the time to enjoy something and smile.
Have a happy & safe weekend.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Unsung Gods
I’m not sure how I feel about this one. ‘Gods’ is overly egotistical, and many writers don’t write fiction, so in being fair to everyone… We create.
Bad Blood
“Band aids don’t fix bullet holes. You say sorry just for show…” That is the ultimate “fuck you”. LOVE IT!
Memories
There are so many things in life that can be chalked up into two different categories: Good memories and bad memories. There are also “middle of the road” memories, but I’ll leave that for another day.
I woke up way too early this morning. It was still dark outside. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I was so annoyed, bothered, and agitated. I was trying very hard not to be viciously bitchy, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. The one thing I didn’t do was sit around and ponder it, I got up and went off in search of something to do.
It probably took me four or five hours to realize that today is May 20th, the anniversary of my Uncle’s death. It astounds me that it’s been several years and didn’t just happen yesterday, which is precisely how it feels. I was completely numb then, in absolute disbelief, and I’m numb today.
I miss him.
A framed photo of him is on top of the armoire in the corner of my bedroom. I glanced up at it a little while ago, because his presence can be felt. He was the kind of person that could walk into any room and command it with absolute certainty. He had an incredibly magnetic personality and much like me, you either loved him or you didn’t. He didn’t waste time trying to win you over if you were clearly on the other side, nor did he have to. He was one of the finest human-beings to walk this planet. He always treated me like a prized daughter. Always.
A lot of women are often accused of seeking out “father figures” in their marriage choices, especially if they come from an abusive background with a father or if they never had a male role model to look to as they grew up. I am not one of those women. I do look at men closely to see how they might behave in the future with children of their own, but I do not see them as a “fatherly role model” for myself. Nor should I. It’s one of the healthier aspects of who I am in a relationship. I know myself and I know what I’m looking for. There are plenty of good men that aren’t good fathers, and plenty of good fathers who aren’t good partners or good men.
Despite the mixed emotions I have about my father and the relationship I had with him, the relationship with my Uncle is not one I ever question. Was I loved? Yes. Was I treated with respect? Absolutely. In fact, there were probably times I was treated better than his own children because we had a very deep bond. Not only can I visually pass for one of his daughters, but it’s precisely what people think when they look at me. The two people in this world I most closely resemble are my mother and my Uncle, and both of them are gone.
I have amazing memories of my Uncle. Yes, he was slightly off the wall and uniquely himself, but goodness radiated from his soul. This is, after all, the man who snuck into one of my graduation ceremonies and stood in the back so as not to interfere with the ceremony. But as I got on stage to receive my diploma, his unmistakable presence was a huge part of why I was smiling in my photos. He always showed his love and support in immense ways.
I thank him, today and always, for all that he taught me. He believed in my ability to achieve my goals, to reach new heights, and to chart new territory. As I go through a new phase in my life, I am reminded of his smiling eyes and how proud of me he always was, no matter what. He didn’t always need words, his eyes said everything for him.
I was incredibly blessed to have you in my life and I am in awe of the lives you were able to touch in your 58 years. I also breathe a sigh of relief knowing that you did not suffer.
I love you Uncle R. Thank you…for everything.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 