The Moment Of Writing…

Quote 2015-05-26 Miss Poison Quotes, Writing Escape, Larry Levis, Quotes, Writing

“The moment of writing is not an escape…it is only an insistence, through the imagination, upon human ecstasy, and a reminder that such ecstasy remains as much a birthright in this world as misery remains a condition of it.” ―Larry Levis

Talent Is Helpful…

Image 2015-05-252015-05-25 Miss Poison Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Pieces Of Me, Writing Follow Through, Guts, Images/Photos/Quotes, Jessamyn West, Talent, Writing

I think talent is the most crucial thing to have as a writer, along with the ability to follow through.

We Should Write As We Dream…

Quote 2015-05-25 Miss Poison Quotes, Writing Dream, Hélène Cixous, Human Emotions, Quotes, Violence, Write

“We should write as we dream; we should even try and write, we should all do it for ourselves, it’s very healthy, because it’s the only place where we never lie. At night we don’t lie. Now if we think that our whole lives are built on lying-they are strange buildings-we should try and write as our dreams teach us; shamelessly, fearlessly, and by facing what is inside very human being-sheer violence, disgust, terror, shit, invention, poetry. In our dreams we are criminals; we kill, and we kill with a lot of enjoyment. But we are also the happiest people on earth; we make love as we never make love in life.” ―Hélène Cixous

Total Recall

2015-05-232015-05-23 Miss Poison Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stages Of Grief, Writing Loss, Memorial Day, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Recollection, Stages of Grief, Writing

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.

Unpublished Writing

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I’ve Never Had Less To Say

2015-05-21 Miss Poison Writing Silence, Writing

I find myself needing to be deadly silent today. There is a certain level of inner peace in that. Some people want to have elongated phone conversations with me and I’m just not feeling it.

I’m physically tired, having overdone it yesterday. And yet, I think I only woke up twice in the middle of the night. I slept really well. When I woke up, I was shocked at the fact that I’d gotten uninterrupted sleep. It’s quite the rarity. Everybody always wants something from me. 😦

Today it is quiet and grey, and I can appreciate that, if only for the silence it brings. I am honestly way too tired for more.

The Answer

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Memories

2015-05-202015-08-08 Miss Poison Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Family, Grief, In Memory, Loss, Love, Memories, My Uncle, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Sorrow, Writing

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.

The Writing Process

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I Wrote Today…Be Thrilled

2015-05-19 Miss Poison E-books, Editing, Editors, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Plagiarism, Poison In Lethal Doses, Things That Enrage Me, Work, Writer, Writers, Writing Beware, Books, Editing, Fibromyalgia Pain, Honesty, Identity Theft, Pieces Of Me, Plagiarism, Poison In Lethal Doses, Self-Publishing, Theft, Writers, Writing

I am in excruciating pain. From the top of my spine to the top of my thighs, I cannot stand the torturous pain that only seems to get worse with every passing minute. After a point, you really have to ask yourself an important question: Do I take ANOTHER pill or do I pray this will stop at some point? It’s been quite some time since I’ve wanted a morphine drip, but right now, it sounds good.

While this pain attacks my being relentlessly, cutting off my early (for me) bed time by waking me up, I actually sat here for over an hour pouring over what shall forever be dubbed as “the manuscript from hell”. At this point, I can honestly say I am forcing myself to work and get it done. I am NOT enjoying myself in any way, shape, or form. I keep thinking about all the Biotin I will have to take to replace the hair this manuscript is costing me. God help me if my work ever tortures another individual so much! 😦

On a more serious note, a fellow writer had her first book hacked by someone claiming to be an editor in India. After three months of “editing”, he hacked into her Amazon account, tried to pass the book off as done, and then stole her credit card information and, to my understanding, maxed out her card. He damaged her files to the point where she has just lost a year of hard work, work she cherished beyond measure. So now, she’s lost a book she was proud of AND she has to file all kinds of reports to avoid identity theft, and get her credit card charged back and replaced. This is nightmarish, and I don’t want it to happen to anyone ever again.

I want everyone that is a writer to be VERY careful when hiring an editor. I highly recommend sticking to your country of origin and asking for a contract and non-disclosure agreement. That is my standard method of dealing with all of my clients and while some of them may drive me insane at times, I have never, not once in 20 years, released their names or discussed what their work was about. It’s okay to say your job is driving you nuts, but as an editor it’s crucial to my reputation to protect my clients’ work.

At the end of each day, I don’t OWN their manuscripts. I can ask to receive credit as the editor for those that self-publish, but three months after a job has been completed, I release my hold on any and all files. I keep them for that short time period on the off-chance they will need me to fix something or need a backup copy, but after that, I delete the work. I have no rights to it whatsoever, and each contract states that.

If you’re writing a book, back up your files to something external. A thumb drive, a microSD card, an external hard drive, etc., and put a hard copy on a CD or DVD, and put it in a safe place. If you can put it in a safe, I highly recommend that as an option. Don’t EVER allow someone to access your work remotely. Do not give passwords out! Shield everything you put your name on and protect it with your life. There are seriously evil people in this world that are, without question, predators to some extent. Do not allow yourself to become a victim of anyone professing to be something that are, quite clearly, not.

There are plenty of legitimate freelancers and there are even more that are simply liars. Aim high when searching for someone legitimate to assist you with something so important. If you have any questions, I am happy to assist where I can.