Saturday Morning Humor

2014-12-06 Miss Poison Authors, Books, Editing, Editors, Honesty, Humor, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Reading, Writing Authors, Books, Editing, Editors, Fifty Shades Of Grey, Grammar, Humor, Marketability, Publishing, Writers, Writing

I have been lucky (and not so lucky) to read a LOT of books long before they were ever published. The other day I was asked how crucial the editing process is. I said “As an editor, making sure your work is properly edited and not riddled with mistakes and errors is of the utmost importance. I cringe whenever I see something poorly edited.” I expected no response whatsoever, because really, why would I?

Then I noticed that what I said DID raise a comment, and it went a little something like this “Then how do you explain Fifty Shades Of Grey being published?!” I had the hardest time not laughing. I go from speaking from experience to being blamed for work I didn’t even edit! I’m pretty damn sure I was not credited as EL James’ editor, and if I was, I want a retraction, STAT.

I did respond to the ludicrous comment, only because editors aren’t publishers. We can push something and market it to death to a literary agent, but even that really isn’t our job. Marketability is not what I get paid, or in this case blamed, to do. However, as an editor, I do believe in letting the author know precisely how marketable their work is and which direction to take it in.

I’ve told people exactly which agents to submit queries to. A lot of people are first-time writers, have never been published, and even though they have a finished product, they have absolutely no idea what to do with it after the first edit. I advise, but unless I’m on contract, I do not do more than an extremely thorough edit with notes. In most cases, I am the first edit or the last before submission. Some books, while incredibly brilliant, never see the light of day. That is why more and more people are self-publishing and/or going through smaller publishing houses. It’s not an easy process, yet people seem to believe that it is because way too many idiots are on the New York Times Best Sellers List. Only 60% of them have true talent (Hell, I read their books!), and sometimes the numbers are higher or lower, depending on the month. Hand me a book, I will find the errors in the editing and grammar. And yes, it always makes me cringe.

As the consumer, and this goes for me as well, if you don’t like something, don’t fucking read it. Save your receipts, return whatever it is you disliked, and get something new or get a store credit. But don’t blame the editors of the world for what other people write!

Is The Pen Mightier Than The Sword?

2014-12-06 Miss Poison Being Real, December, Finding Your Truth, Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stories, Words, Writing, Your Calling Being Yourself, Following Your Own Path, Honesty, Life, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Is The Pen Mightier Than The Sword?

I was exceptionally lucky to be gifted with my writing voice relatively young. Being vocal with the written word is something that runs in my family, but for years, I kept things bottled up and didn’t have a lot to say. Being told “Write what you know, think, and feel.” is some of the best advice I’ve ever been given.

Having amassed 27 years of writing experience does something to a person. It makes you reflect back on the very early stages of who you were as a writer. I was so far from refined, it wasn’t even funny, but no one ever is. You can be writing for 50 years and there is still something to be learned each day. Writing is the gift that keeps on giving.

Sourcing inspiration can come from things you witness, experience, and simply living each day. We all have different stories to tell, yet it is based on a single common denominator; living.

I do like to stick to what I know. Facts and opinions are my bread and butter, and to some extent, they will always be at the core of everything I do. Fiction allows me to breathe new life into something that always plays itself out inside my head, much like a big budget film. I find myself enchanted and intrigued by all of the characters, all of whom are inspired by actual people in my life or people no longer in my life. With books, characters are often more relatable than a glammed up actress with false lashes on or the male lead sporting very obvious eyeliner (unless it’s Johnny Depp, in which case we sort of expect it.), but on paper, things flow differently. There are things that can be conveyed with the written word that can never be conveyed any other way.

Memories are often beautifully conveyed with words. As is common for me during this time of year, I look back on family members that have passed away and I can recall their mannerisms, voice, and the stories they used to tell.

My Great-Uncle Charlie was a solid storyteller. He would talk about his travels, his experience in the military, and he was so exceptionally bright that even in his 80’s, the stories could very easily take you back in history. For several years I would spend damn near every Saturday afternoon with him, and he always had stories to tell. At the end of his life, he paid me the most beautiful of compliments. It was like being seen by someone for the very first time, only now, he had a different type of clarity. I will never forget how precious that moment was or how it made me feel.

He was present the day I was offered a position at Morgan Stanley to be a stockbroker. I asked his thoughts on the decision, something I very rarely do, because I thought the idea was slightly ludicrous. He told me I had to choose to do what would ultimately make me happy, not what someone else thought I should do with my life. After much deliberation, I decided not to take the job. I believed in listening to his advice. I made my decision after he had passed away, and by doing so I was able to continue on a path that isn’t for everyone, but is very clearly my own.

Writing was my first true creative outlet. It was always my thoughts and voice, but it was, even from the start, way ahead of its time. Perhaps that is telling.

I have often been accused, even on this platform, of being “too this” or “too that”. The truth is, on my “regular” blog, I am way too tame. I see it each day, and it annoys me. I no longer post my work there, because I feel like it has been tainted in some way and even though I have worked on it for two years, I feel like stepping back from it and only posting things there that I deem appropriate is okay. So if you’re reading this, know that I’m not “too anything” here. I am myself. I won’t ever let anyone diminish that strength again, or attempt to take who I am from me with negative words. I need no one’s approval or acceptance, just my own. .

Is the pen mightier than the sword? Sometimes. What I have learned is that my pen IS my sword, and vice versa. It is my weapon of choice, of skill, of convenience, or complete and utter ease. My father used to say I could sell ice to Eskimos during the worst Winter ever, all with what I had to say. Maybe that is true, but having the skill to properly utilize words is one of the most precious gifts a person can have. It’s not a gift everyone is granted with. Sometimes it’s luck, sometimes it’s talent, but often times, it’s a blend of the two.

If my “sword” is too much for you, please, by all means, walk away. But for those of you who stay; You’re in for a fun ride!

Editing Is…

Image 2014-12-04 Miss Poison Editing, Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Killing, Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Editing, Images/Photos/Quotes, Killing, Life, Story, Writing

And now you all know why I edit my own work. I refuse to be butchered.

Has Anyone Else Noticed?

2014-12-03 Miss Poison Being Real, December, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Being Real, December, Family, Honesty, Idiots, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

This time of year either brings out the good in people, or it brings out the bad. Unfortunately, I am dealing with assumptions, presumptions, accusations, and have decided that not speaking to certain people is really the healthiest decision for all involved. I have a temper and I know how to use it, so really, it’s healthier for me. Wisdom helps you make decisions such as these.

I’m pretty laid back and easy-going, but when you say certain things to me, it’s like asking the sleeping dragon not to shoot fire. The nicest person in the world (not me) can be provoked, but provoking me is courting disaster. Seek and ye shall find.

A “joke” to some people that is simply not funny doesn’t radiate as humor, be it verbally or in print. I worry about people sometimes, especially those who laugh at their own jokes when they’re truly not the least bit funny. If the only person laughing is you, it’s not humor. Granted, I am guilty of laughing at the things I come up with, however I have legitimate proof that I’m funny, and this person does not.

*Warning, here’s where I get a bit graphic.*

What is it about December that somehow provides most people with A) A rather large stick up their ass or B) A life-size bug up their ass? I’m contemplating calling in a proctologist for all of them because I’d like said sticks removed and then sent off to a lab to be inspected for termites. What is WRONG with so many people? And God, WHY do I have to be related to some of them?!

All of a sudden, people who haven’t spoken to me in six months, or longer, are demanding phone calls because apparently an e-mail is “way too time-consuming”. Are you kidding me?! A phone call is too time-consuming if I can’t stand to listen to you! I really don’t have all damn day, nor do I think that talking to me should be considered a “multi-tasking chore”. God as my witness, I would NEVER say that to someone. I’m not going to call you from the bathroom while I scrub the tub or steam clean my floors. I’m not going to call you while I change a litter box. For one, you don’t want to hear me cursing when I do those things and two, it’s rude. When I’m talking to someone, they have my undivided attention. Yes, I might be transferring my laundry from the washer to the dryer, I might be cooking or chopping vegetables, but I’m not vacuuming and expecting them to hear me clearly. Again, that’s rude. And there are so many instances when I will tell a friend “I’m cooking, is it all right if I call you back later when I’m done? I don’t want you not to have my full attention.” It’s common courtesy, and it also keeps the knife out of my hand if a person says something shocking while telling me something and my hand slips. No one wants to explain a knife injury at Urgent Care or the ER. Especially since certain knife related wounds MUST be reported to the police. That’s all I need, a report about how I got klutzy with a fancy knife. No thanks!

One of my BIGGEST pet peeves is people who call me while they’re driving. I don’t care if you’re on a Bluetooth for two hours or that you have “nothing else to do when you’re driving”, it is still DANGEROUS. How many people have lost their lives because they were on the phone while driving? I don’t want to be responsible for that, it makes me nervous. If it makes me nervous, respect that I don’t want to talk to you while you’re hurling down the road at 65+ miles an hour and call me when you have the time to do so. If you’re telling me “Oh, I’m just SO busy…”, then don’t call me at all. Don’t send me e-mails or Facebook messages either. However, do not presume to tell me what I should be doing or how I should be doing it. No one is SO important that I have to drop everything I have planned on any given day to spend 7 hours on the phone with them listening to things I have no solid interest in listening to. A friend in need? YES, no question, I will drop everything, but I will not drop everything for nonsensical crap.

I have varying interests. I am not limited in what I find interesting and/or intriguing. I only have a one-track mind about certain things, but after that, I can concentrate on many different things at once and a conversation should be something you’re not vacant about. The second I’m out of a conversation, any intelligent person can tell, and I don’t like being a space cadet. Unfortunately, certain types of people bring it out of us.

Anyone telling me that they’re “confused” by my response or reaction to their childishness or stupidity is simply adding fuel to the fire. I am clear. I am concise. I do not mince words. Of late, I have felt like I needed to bang my head against a wall dealing with certain types of people and quite frankly, I have enough migraines and I don’t need the additional headaches that would surely cause.

Unlike a lot of people in this world, I know with certainty that the world doesn’t revolve around me. In fact, I’m sure I am just a dot in this world. I am not self-involved or self-important. I know my worth and value, yes, but I don’t have my head shoved up my own ass. I can respect someone else’s perspective, but I do not have to agree with it. I think some people are amazing at their jobs, but have absolutely no social skill set whatsoever outside of work. The same can be said in reverse for many people too, but generally I know people with amazing work ethic who are passionate about what they do, as opposed to those who look down upon anyone for not being in the same line of work as them. One person’s “dream job” is, quite understandably, many other people’s worst nightmares. If I had to answer to a “boss” and be held accountable for absolute nonsense I would not last 12 hours. Maybe I’m under-estimating myself, but the difference is that I know who I am and I accept who I am. I know that if put in a situation where my integrity and work ethic are questioned, I will go off on you in a New York Minute. I have always worked for myself. The only person I’ve ever answered to was me. And believe me, I am plenty self-critical, but I’ve never treated anyone I work with the way I treat myself.

People are preaching about kindness, gratitude, and giving right now. However, very few people are practicing what they preach. All I can do is be myself and if someone doesn’t like that, too damn bad.

Inevitably, not everyone will like or love you. What IS important is remaining true to yourself, no matter what venom is spewed in your direction. Silence IS golden, but sometimes shooting back with something deadlier is also an option. No, it’s not always kind, but I don’t skip through the tulips, nor do I look for unicorns farting rainbows either.

Always Write With Passion…

Image 2014-12-02 Miss Poison Images/Photos/Quotes, Inspiration, Pieces Of Me, Writing Cherlina Works, Dreams, Hopes, Passion, Thoughts, Write, Writing

Goodbye November

2014-11-30 Miss Poison December, Honesty, Life, Loss, Love, November, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing December, Evolve, Goodbye, Growth, Honesty, Life, Loss, November, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Goodbye November

Some months are good to you, and others are a bitch. Sometimes a month is riddled with bad news, negativity, hostility, and unhappiness. When a month is ugly, you need to say goodbye, and leave it behind you. It’s senseless to constantly look behind you to the bad when the future is going to be fresher and brighter. It does not mean it will be easy, but can it be better? Yes.

And so, I say “Goodbye November”. I took this month with a grain of salt, a shovel full of sand, and a sprinkle of sugar (real sugar, not the fake crap!). It’s time to look forward.

December is, by proxy, an emotionally difficult month for me. It is the anniversary of too much death, it is the month of birthdays of people I have loved and lost, and the holiday season is a poor reminder of all those things.

I’m a bit of a hermit during the Winter months. I write, I read, I listen to music, I watch movies, I do my best to stay out of the cold, and I try not to think too hard about all of the horrible shit that has happened in my life. I try to look, and focus on, the positive. It’s not always easy to do. You live, you learn, you grow, you evolve (Sound familiar Lillian? LOL.). But most importantly: You make an effort.

I can say, without fail, that I have grown and evolved SO MUCH in the past seven years. I look in the mirror and see someone who is definitely smarter, sharper, sassier, and completely unapologetic in the fact that she’s going to be herself. Right about this time seven years ago, I was writing a eulogy to be given at my father’s impending funeral. I spent two months writing it, knowing that the end was near. I wrote something heartfelt and beautiful, and about a year later I had someone insult it, saying that I accepted crumbs when I deserved more. What she didn’t understand is that I have class, and tact. Whatever goes on behind closed doors doesn’t always need to be aired to the world at large. I chose to write something and speak in a way that would not shame anyone. My feelings may have evolved since then, but I still stand behind the choice because I know it was the right thing to do.

Not everyone is going to understand or respect your journey. They don’t have to, and they don’t need to. After all, it’s not theirs to comprehend.

Be you, no matter how difficult it is at times. Don’t apologize, unless you’ve truly done something wrong.

Goodbye November…I won’t miss anything about you. I am cutting ties. It’s time to go “Back To December”.

Thoughts Through Other Eyes

2014-11-282014-11-29 Miss Poison Authors, Honesty, Judgment, Men, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Thoughts, Unfiltered, Women, Writers, Writing Authors, Being Real, Best Face Forward, Honesty, Judgment, Languages, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Unfiltered, Work, Writers, Writing

I am tired in a soul-deep, bone-deep way that I can’t quite explain. I know it is borne out of doing too much, too fast, without proper rest. Sometimes I forget that I have limitations due to Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain and I simply want my normal life back. In turn, I suffer for every move I make in ignoring said limitations. Simply put, it BLOWS.

I hurt from the very top of my spine, which, by the way, is where my tattoos begin (Yes, right underneath my hair down a portion of my spine. Believe me when I say, they did not hurt. The entire experience was very positive. It felt more like being scraped repeatedly as opposed to actual pain, and who better to know the difference than someone who experiences pain 24/7? I sat for close to two hours. I have heavily inked male friends who told me their own ink in the exact same spot hurt like hell and had to be done in 2-3 sessions. They have less on their spine than I do.), all the way to the center of both feet. I’ve done a LOT this week. Now, all I want to do is get this mind-numbing headache and unbelievable stomach pain to stop so I can SLEEP. I’d also like someone to feed and water my girls, so I don’t have to get out of bed unless I really want/need to. What are the chances of the latter happening? Slim to none, and unfortunately Slim is very easily distracted.

I survived Thanksgiving, and did every single thing I set out to do in terms of cooking and baking. YAY! Of course now, I am happy to sit in front of my laptop or the TV for the next week, only moving when absolutely necessary.

An interesting job presented itself recently. I would get to use my little-used Russian in editing a pretty large manuscript. It sounds great, and yet, I need a few days to sleep on it. Yes, someone else could get the job instead, and that can happen no matter what, but it made me take a good look at my list of spoken and learned languages. I’m actually a lot smarter than I let on, but I’ve always had to be.

When you’re a writer, people judge you based on the work you present to them. I think this is true more so now than ever before, but at times, it doesn’t seem to matter at all if you’re presenting absolute crap, which is insulting to me.

You can walk into a business meeting looking like Stephen King, so long as the material is brilliant, no one will care. They might whisper about you amongst themselves later on, but they’re truly looking at the manuscript above all else. As a woman, it’s different. You have to be presentable enough that when you’re photographed for the inside and/or back cover, you don’t completely disgrace your entire gender. I cannot tell you how many times someone has told me how pretty a writer is when all I could think was “But is her work any good?” Not in a catty or bitchy way, but in a genuine “Unless we’re talking about Angelina Jolie, I don’t care what she looks like” way. I want what I read to be of a specific level of quality. I want it to capture and intrigue me. I don’t care what the author looks like. However, I have noticed that a great many people do.

The flip side of this particular coin is that more and more authors now attend San Diego Comic Con and New York Comic Con, along with similar types of events all over the world. There is a lot more social media interaction with readers and as much face-to-face interaction as you (and your publisher) see fit. Being comfortable in your intelligence and knowledge isn’t always easy when you’re, technically, competing for the attention of those very same readers because Jennifer Lawrence or Eva Green are also in the building promoting a highly anticipated film. Truth be told, I’d rather sit and listen to Eva Green too, but that’s just me. I’m slightly fascinated by her and have been for a good 8 years or so.

I don’t know a lot of writers that are absolute extroverts. I know a lot of very shy, quiet, introverted writers who can be extroverts for short periods of time, in the right company. While not exactly shy, I am definitely on the quieter side most of the time. If you happen to be discussing something interesting or something I am knowledgeable about, I MIGHT chime in, I might not. However, of late, I’ve noticed I’m getting some odd attention in public settings.

For the most part, but really only face-to-face, women talk to me purely about superficial things. Hair, skin, the nail polish I have on, my tattoos (Because I completely forget that they’re there and that they’re visible. I apply sunscreen to them, that’s the extent of my awareness most days,), make-up, perfume, etc. Men, on the other hand, ask different questions and approach you differently. I try very hard to be focused in my day-to-day life, but there are many days where I truly don’t want to have any type of debate while on line at the bank or discuss the price of gas, oil, milk, eggs, etc. I do not have “Has all the answers” on a t-shirt or my forehead, and yet, this happens to me constantly.

I like for my work to speak for itself, but I absolutely make an effort at putting my best face forward. I’d prefer for someone to judge me based on my work and who I am as a person, but I know that’s not how life works. Women are harshly critiqued on their appearance. It’s not something I’ve ever liked and I like it even less now. However, I realize we are all guilty of it to some extent.

By all means, be disappointed in something that doesn’t screw with someone’s self-worth and self-confidence, but don’t attack others for what is, in all honesty, a quirk of nature. If you’ve ever said something to someone that sent them running to a plastic surgeon to “fix the problem”, maybe you should take a closer look at yourself because raining your issues onto others is one of the most unattractive things one can do.

Just not lest ye be judged. Be true to yourself and don’t worry about anything or anyone else.

You Could Be Writing The Book…

Image 2014-11-282014-11-27 Miss Poison Artists, Books, Images/Photos/Quotes, Life, Writing Artists, Books, Brandon Sanderson, Images/Photos/Quotes, Stories, Writing

Overreaching

2014-11-272014-11-27 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Musings, Pain, Pet Owners, Pets, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thanksgiving, Writing Cooking, Family, Fibromyalgia, Food, Friendships, Gratitude, Pain, Pets, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, Thanksgiving, Writing

I decided a few weeks ago to forgo all the “traditional” Thanksgiving Day fare. I did not relish the idea of dealing with a turkey when a good half of it would end up in the garbage or making stuffing because I made it last year and there is simply NEVER enough stuffing one can have. I’m a carb fiend, take my word on this. FYI for all pet owners: Do not give your dogs or cats dark meat, it’s too rich for them.

Alas, I came up with a different idea. It’s a great idea. However, after a very long day of shopping in two different stores for everything I needed yesterday, I woke up this morning (way too early) and had a moment of utter panic.

What possessed me to think that chopping 7 pounds of vegetables would be “no big deal”? I’m more concerned with my Fibromyalgia, because it is flaring up BIG TIME today from my neck to my ankles, than I am about my skills with a knife (I already sliced myself last night on a mixer blade.). I will have no choice, but to take breaks in between each veggie (there are 4 in total, but there is, obviously, a LOT of it.). My only “plus” is that having had a migraine yesterday afternoon, which required medicine with caffeine to abort it out of my system, I was left wide awake into the wee hours of the morning. It was around 10:30 or so last night when I decided I was “awake, therefore I should bake”. It took more time to mix up the batter than it did to bake the two cakes I made. I thought they were awful, until I tasted the 100% cooled product this morning. It’s a little like dying and going to heaven, depending on what you like cake wise. I’m only feeling certain flavors these days. But hey, that’s one additional thing out of the way. All I have to do is frost the cake, though I do have to say that certain frostings are so disgusting, and filled with chemicals that terrify me, that I wish I’d taken a spare 30 seconds to read one can before agreeing to it. However, it’s not going into MY body, so it’s not on me. At least the normal one has ingredients in it that I can pronounce, as opposed to “Let me just Google this…” That is the quickest way to ruin dessert.

I think Aleve should be forced to change their advertising slogan from “It’s your life, pain shouldn’t get in the way. 2 pills will provide up to 12 hours of relief.” (Less than ten years ago, they claimed that 2-3 pills was 24 hours of pain relief compared to 8 Tylenol. Who the hell are they kidding? Neither of them work.) to “2 pills MIGHT give you an hour or so of peace.” There’s absolutely no drastic difference if I use the brand name or a generic version, there’s no such thing as true “relief”. I’m willing to do a LOT right now for true pain relief, but I have my limits. I already feel like someone beat me to death and no one has found my body yet, so if you don’t hear from me for a while, I must have posted from the spirit realm.

Dinner won’t be “early” tonight, hell, it might not even be served in a timely fashion, but I’ll do my best to get it all done. I have an assistant, we’ll see how long he lasts before I throw him out of the kitchen. As long as there’s no bloodshed (from my chopping knife), it’s all good.

No matter how you spend this holiday or where you are spending it, especially for our troops overseas who are away from their families, take a moment to appreciate the good things in your life and all the unhappy, bad shit that lead you to this place. Take stock of all that is important to you. Sometimes we find that the list is huge and other times we find that the list is smaller. My list is in the acknowledgements of Book One. I cannot say it’s short.

Don’t just be thankful today, be thankful every day.

Unbelievable!

2014-11-262014-11-26 Miss Poison Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Unbelievable Crap, Work, Writing Annoyance, Editing, Idiots, Unprofessionalism, Work, Writing

Writers can be an incredibly quirky bunch, but occasionally you come across someone SO incredibly ass-backward and unprofessional that you find the entire situation utterly unbelievable. You almost expect hidden cameras to be shown to you at any given moment.

Long story short: A potential client contacted me over a manuscript he’d like to have edited. Eventually the listing closes, and even after saying he wanted to hire me, I hear nothing. I continued to follow-up. In the meantime I take another job, because I am not about to wait for this guy to get his act together. A few days ago he leaves me a new message, asking me to call him. I do, and I leave him a voice mail message. I specifically detailed in the message that he could call me back when he was ready to do so, and I followed it up with another written message. No response. No return phone call. I am not about to call him every hour on the hour until he calls me back. One message is enough. The e-mail message was more than I’d do for most people who have yet to sign on yet.

I come home tonight after a long day and he has re-listed the job. I had suggested that he re-list it, but I also told him I would still take the job and adhere to what we had previously agreed upon as far as what I would do and the original price I’d quoted him. Instead of listening to me, I had to submit an entirely new proposal, but this time I made sure to state that we’d already agreed upon this job and he had never gotten back to me. Why would you even bother asking someone to call you if you’re now accepting offers from other people for the very same job that, several weeks ago, was “mine”? This truly makes no sense and it annoys the crap out of me.

Unless I hear from him within the next few days, I am washing my hands of the situation entirely. I’d rather deal with someone professional than someone who can’t get their shit together.

Little things like this TRULY annoy me. I saw the job re-listed and my jaw nearly hit my laptop keys. I could not believe the stupidity and immaturity of it all. Mind you, he had the option of inviting me into the job, so clearly he can’t even follow simple instructions, which I detailed specifically in my last message to him. I cannot imagine what that manuscript looks like and now, I could not care less. He’d have to pay me triple to touch it.