Stress

How To Be A Client An Editor Wants To Work With

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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These Days

Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing , , , , , , , ,

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When you suffer from any form of chronic illness, and I can only speak from experience with Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain, there are days when you cannot fathom getting out of bed, leave alone getting out of the house. The pain is just that great in its magnitude that functioning is taken out of the equation. You reach a point where you merely exist.

When I push myself, I make everything worse. It often takes me 5-6 hours just to get my mind right in order to get ready and leave. I have to factor in so many things in these decisions. My big motivator isn’t about myself though, it’s usually about making sure the girls have all that they need. If they don’t, I have no choice but to get shit done, even if it means not being able to walk at all for several days.

I woke up in a dark head space. Despite going to bed early last night, I accidentally left the air on instead of the heat. That’s how crazy the weather has been. By the time I reached the “everything hurts and I can’t move because everything is stiff” stage, it was 62 degrees inside. In this house, that’s like 45 degrees with a bitter wind chill. So, the heat went on and I went back to sleep for a few hours. When I officially woke up, it was “too hot” at 66 degrees, which just goes to show you that Fibro is no joke. There are days I am wrapped in a blanket when everyone else is in shorts and tank tops. There are also days when I’ve got two layers on and people are saying “You’re not hot?” When I’m really cold, I’m even wearing socks inside. I never know which way my internal temperature will slide or what the external will make me feel. There are days when 70 degrees makes me want to pass out and die, but if there’s a cooler breeze within the temperature, I’m okay. These days, even my hair hurts, and that’s never a good sign.

I am slowly pulling myself together today to hit two stores. If I don’t go, no one eats, including me. The last thing I want to do today is go anywhere, but for now, it’s just about calming the pain and stress levels down a few notches and hoping that a cool shower will wake me up enough later on so that I can run these two errands and come home.

I won’t lie: My first option was to have everything delivered or ready to pick up, thus minimizing my actual need to force myself out. Alas, two different stores were “out of stock”, so I have no choice but to go there myself and figure out what their deal is. Unless you’re having some kind of epic sale, there’s no way you’re completely “out of stock”, not unless you want to screw with me or there’s something wrong with your on-line system. It’s all very frustrating. It’s even more pathetic that I thought “Wow, that’ll be a breeze. I can just go in, pick up the order, and come straight home. I don’t even NEED to wear make-up!” Of course now, pride determines that I do not leave the house without looking like a human-being. Think Corpse Bride, with a lot of curves.

I admit, I have become moody due to the limitations from pain. If I don’t cook dinner by a certain time each night, which is the right time to allow me to be in bed in a timely fashion, then it’s simply not happening. And if I don’t eat a balanced diet, I will be deathly ill. One of my best friends joked that I’m damn near a vegetarian these days, which isn’t true, but can seem that way at times from the outside looking in. I don’t share in the vegetarian or vegan belief systems, so it’s really not possible for me to be either. It’s not about achieving some kind of goal or physical look, it’s merely about eating to live and getting proper amounts of rest. I hurt too damn much to get into semantics with people.

As the sun begins its rise above all the clouds, I keep wondering exactly when the “perfect” time is to get the hell out of here. Truth is, by the time I clean my bathtub (which I do several times a week because it annoys me), get ready, put up a load of laundry, and leave the house, it might very well be 4:00 PM. Trust me, the clothes are already in the dryer by the time I’m leaving, if not already dry, so there’s also that time in the “getting ready” process. Waste not.

It would be SO NICE to have someone to rely on in times like these. Someone dependable to say “I’ve got this, you go rest.” Not everyone is blessed with people in their lives who are willing to physically assist with errands and chores that have to get done. It’s not that I don’t want to do these things for myself, this isn’t about laziness, it’s about illness. I promised myself I’d learn how to ask for help this year, and accept the help that comes my way, but so far, I’ve hit a lot of brick walls and it’s disturbing to me. I loathe people who say one thing and do another, in all aspects of life. Don’t open your mouth unless you can follow through.

I’m sitting here with my tiny list, but all it does is stress me out. Normally I love grocery shopping and taking care of others, but in this moment, I’d really like someone to take care of me. I physically feel too broken to do it myself.

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

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Blank, Empty, Devoid

Miss Poison April, Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Growth, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Support, Survival, The Future, Toxic People, Writing , , , , , , , , ,

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There have certainly been times in my life where I’ve been devoid of all emotion, except maybe anger. Sometimes rage fuels me to be stronger, better, smarter, faster. I worry sometimes that therapy weakened me, taking my strengths as a woman and turning me into a neutered puppy. But lately, due to serious concerns about my health, I am starting to feel devoid of so much. Not just emotion, but everything. I’m a pretty fearless woman, but when I’m sick every single day from stress and I don’t act on my thoughts because I know they will only result in broken bones, it distracts me from the goal at hand.

I haven’t said anything at all because this is not a personal place, though I think some would disagree and say that my writing is VERY personal. I don’t perceive it as being anything more than me being me, and allowing others to take it or leave it. But I digress; I am about to embark on a huge change in my life. It is going to take every ounce of internal, physical, and emotional strength I have left. It will not be easy. In fact, I expect it to be yet another bloody battle. I really wanted to get away from sword-sharpening and focus on my goals for the next few years, but all of that has been stripped from me, albeit temporarily. Now, all I am able to do is take things one day at a time.

Part of having Fibromyalgia to this extent means accepting help that is offered with a genuine heart. I’m finally seeing a few genuine hearts, as opposed to the kind that do something in the moment and then throw it back in your face at the most inopportune time. I’m shedding the toxic, negative people in my life and embracing the supportive, positive, loving people. I cannot deal with the bullshit or drama that comes with that constant negativity, period.

I will be slightly less present on here at times as I pack up my current life, weeding it down to the bare necessities, in preparation for the next phase. I will take time to mourn what I thought would be best for me, and embrace that which is new. Sometimes doors DO close, but dwelling on that is unhealthy. I have to believe that there is a different purpose for me, even if now, it simply feels like an immense inconvenience.

I know not everyone here is religious or spiritual, but if you’re the praying type, please keep me on the positive side of your prayers. I am sick, praying daily that I do not get worse, and that the change I am about to make is, overall, healthy and smart.

Nothing in life is perfect. Nothing in life is truly permanent, not even death. There will always be good things happening to bad people and bad things that happen to really good people. It’s twisted, it is senseless, but it’s unfortunately a part of life. All I can do is take each day as it comes and give it my best. If “my best” means staying in bed and asking for help, then so be it. I’m not here to compete with anyone and I’m certainly not walking around believing I am better than anyone else. I’m human. Take it or leave it, and if you leave, I really don’t care if the door breaks your tailbone on the way out.

I will check any messages sent to me and respond as soon as I can, but for now, I have no real answers. Each day brings different stressors and honestly, all I want is a problem solver. Alas, life does not work like that.

I pray that as this week comes to a close, I am able to solve the most pressing issues quickly. Wish me good luck. XO.

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

itsgoingtobeokay

What To Say?

Miss Poison Honesty, Inspiration, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , , ,

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What to say? Oh, what to say? This is a challenging week, and it’s only Wednesday. My blood pressure has been through the roof from stress since last week. Medication gets taken as needed, and then I get sleepy. Under normal circumstances, my blood pressure is always normal, unless you piss me off. Needless to say, I’ve been irked, to say the least.

I don’t have much to say, but it makes me feel bad to not post. All I can say is that I am dealing with some unpleasant things in my personal life, and desperately trying to help someone. I will be writing about that soon.

The highlights of my day, thus far: A) Kitten throwing a ball into her water dish and, instead of waiting for me to take it out and change her water, she simply waited for about a minute, and then proceeded to pick it up with her fangs and run off with it. Gross, yes, but cute. Cats do the silliest things. I cannot believe how much she has grown since I brought her littleness home.

Second highlight: My Rabbi called. No, this is not me “going religious on you”. I spent damn near my entire life feeling persecuted by all aspects of my faith. From houses of worship to my extended family; I was not considered “Jewish enough”. How is that even possible? I can trace my ancestry back to 85 B.C. On both sides of my family, we have never been anything else religiously. On my father’s side of the family, we are descended from Aaron, who, if you’ve followed the Old Testament, was the brother of Moses. Technically, because it is patriarchal, it passes down to my brother and not to me. My Mom’s side is a story for another day. So, my Rabbi called and we had a good conversation. I cannot explain how comforting it is to be accepted and treated with respect by a ‘Man of God’. Whenever he says “I will pray for you.”, magical things happen. I am positive he has a direct line. I was just talking about him yesterday and my phone rings this afternoon. Just seeing his name on the caller ID put me at peace.

Aside from that, I am dealing with the 20 degree drop in temperature that was so sudden, I hurt from head to toe. It’s a cold, grey day and all I want to see is some real rain and maybe even a good, old-fashioned thunderstorm. Let’s mix it up a bit. I also want a pint of ice cream and a good cry, but hey, we can’t have everything we ask for.

Ultimately, like so many others, I am just trying to get through my day/week/month. We all have our struggles and things that are tough to handle. We all have something that makes us happy or smile, even if it’s not something major, it’s still valuable to us. I sometimes find it difficult to laugh and smile through the pain, or find humor in things when I’m terribly upset, but eventually, I do find things that numb or help me heal. I simply want to get over this hurdle and begin the healing process. But this time, I am not going to allow anyone to talk me into emotionally neutering myself. Not only is it unhealthy, but it’s not who I am.

Oh, and a happy belated birthday to one of my favorite men on the planet. You crack me up, T.

Also, a VERY happy belated birthday to my Aunt, who will be reading this eventually. XOXO.

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

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Tell Me The Truth; Was I Run Over By A Truck?!

Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing , , , , , , , , , ,

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Sleep issues, for now, seem to be on their way to looking up. I was in bed so early last night, I’m certain every 80+ year old Grandmother was still awake when my head hit the pillow. When sleeping is difficult, it’s good to go to bed the second you can no longer keep your eyes open. Mission accomplished. It was after 4:00 a.m. when I realized that I never bothered to turn the clocks ahead an hour, but in the grand scheme of things; no harm, no foul.

Somehow the downside of a full night’s rest is that I woke up feeling like a Mack Truck had run over me, backed up, and proceeded to go at it a second time. Everything from my neck down to about mid-thigh feels broken, bruised, damaged, and whatever words are worse than “sore” and “achy”. By Fibro flare standards, this is pretty standard. It was twenty degrees colder yesterday, and yet today, while the temperature is slightly under a balmy 50 degrees, my body is working against me. Even my hair hurts…that’s not okay.

Weekends are never as long as they should be. For at least a year, I’d like one continuous weekend. There are weekends where you get a lot of writing/editing done (read: work) , and others where you get to enjoy things that you might not normally get to do (Minds out of the gutter.).

I’m extremely displeased with where this weekend went, but considering how much I have on my mind and on my plate, figuratively speaking, I just have to do better this week in terms of properly managing time.

In the meantime, I’ve got a ton of work and research ahead of me this week. I look forward to none of it. I’m having a hard time being passionate about what I do because the daily pain is just too much. Normally I am speedy and efficient. Right now, I am slow and I find fault with every other word. No matter how much positivity I can manage, at the beginning and end of each day I am still in excruciating pain and it’s hard not to take issue with that.

Here’s hoping everyone’s week is bright, and full of potential. I’ll be okay with significant progress, love, support, and a lot less pain.

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

Am I Wearing A Sign?

Miss Poison Clients, Honesty, Life, Musings, People, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Professional, Snow, Stress, Work , , , , , , ,

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I am thisclose (that is not a typo) to killing one of my clients. If you feel like someone is professionally giving you the runaround, it’s probably because they are. Though I suspect, some people are truly stupider than one can give them credit for.

There aren’t enough “LOLs” in the world to mask the utter stupidity I am dealing with. Making a HUGE mistake and then sending me a message about your mistake isn’t cute, unless we’re friends. It’s even less cute when that mistake personally affects me.

And then, I get the manuscript. Nearly 70,000 words that, after two pages, made me want to hang myself. I swear to God, I need to eat, calm the hell down, and look at it in a day or two because there is NO WAY I am going to be professional in this moment. I wish I had a bottle of wine on hand to smack over my own head…after drinking it, of course. I’m not much of a drinker, but man, my clients are going to turn me into a full-blown alcoholic. Should you ever see me wandering the streets aimlessly, kindly shoot me and put me out of my misery.

Oh, and the snow was no big deal. It looks like it totalled out around 5 inches or so, if that. Sadly, my poor Aunt got saddled with 2 1/2 feet of snow. I hope she doesn’t have to see a single snowflake until next winter. Praying for an early Spring, which is saying a lot with my allergies.

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Freelance Doesn’t Mean Free

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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