I stopped myself from telling a client to go fuck themselves today. THAT is progress, people. I think that alone is deserving of some kind of medal of honor, and a good dose of dark chocolate. Alas, the carefully made, antioxidant rich, dark hot chocolate I made did not seem to quell my urge to go back and say what I think and feel. Someone needs to park her ass at Godiva until this urge to yell at idiots passes.

Patience Is A V…

Patience Is A Virtue, BUT…

“Patience is a virtue, but there comes a moment when you must stop being patient and take the day by the throat and shake it. If it fights back; fine. I’d rather end up bloody at the end of the day, then unhurt with no progress made, no knowledge gained. I’d rather have a no, then nothing. I’d forgotten that about myself.” ―Laurell K. Hamilton

The Blogiversary

The Blogiversary

*Oxford English Dictionary, Merriam Webster, here’s a new word for you!*

Yesterday I quietly celebrated the day I had some kind of mental breakdown and created this blog. I’m kidding about the mental breakdown, but I honestly have NO idea what possessed me.

I know the list on my publishing mandate was getting to me, I’ve talked about this many times over the course of this year. Never give a Scorpio woman a lists of Dos, and really, don’t EVER tell HER what to do. She’ll be incredibly liable to tell you what to do, with a slew of choice words mixed into her phraseology.

I’m a writer, I write what I want, when I want, and I say exactly what I’m thinking. I’ve had people refuse to edit my work because they didn’t feel qualified to touch it. GOOD, you’re NOT. Thanks ever so much for clearing that up!

I remember signing up for this blog, publishing my first post, and then saying “Now what?!” I continued to post, really not expecting anything. Quickly, I started acquiring likes, followers, and in this past year I have made friends that I hope I will have for a very long time, if not a lifetime.

I named my blog, “…..And The Moon Sees All” because it is a very personal, private kind of statement for me. It also helps that it is unique. I only recently discovered how unique the name actually is when it was the first site to appear on a Google search. You can Google my name and you will find everyone else named Lisa Marino. Literally, everyone, but me. However, when you type in the name of this blog, you just get me. I have to say, I like that a lot.

Unique blog name aside, I generally don’t start a lot of sentences with “And”, mainly because I’m a Word Nazi. That’s why the blog looks like it’s the end of a sentence. It is, to some extent. A typo, a misspelled or missed word, and you will see me physically and, on occasion, visibly cringe, as if a snake just went up the back of my shirt. When I see it on someone else’s blog, I want to fix it. It drives me insane. I am definitely obsessive compulsive in this sense, and I always have been. When I find a mistake in something I wrote ten years ago, it drives me up the wall. It could be something as simple as a missing word or a missing comma, but it will drive me to fix it immediately. Hey, I never claimed to be normal, don’t expect it.

A year (and a day) into this blog has me thinking about how it all began for me as a writer, and why. I think about all the spelling tests I aced without fail. I think of the absolute BEST English teacher I ever had, Mrs. Hughes, who not only thought I was a top student, possibly the top student of all the English classes she taught, but also the fact that she believed in my ability to carry the written word further. I remember showing her midrange stages of my writing accomplishments and being able to nail scores of recommendation letters when I graduated because word got out, and everyone was so blown away by just the midrange stage of what I could do. They had yet to see me truly shine, but they all knew I would.

I had professors fail me when I was a journalism major because apparently my creative writing was “too honest.” I cannot imagine saying that to someone, but I can imagine recommending them for a different class to help push them in the right direction. I didn’t choose that particular class, it was a prerequisite. I had one professor make it sound like I was going to destroy his entire writing class, simply because I would not adhere to HIS style of how the written word should be. Hey, it’s your style buddy, not mine. I honestly don’t think anyone else in that class WAS writing, but I’m not dwelling on it because he also told me that I had no talent and would NEVER write. He was oh so wrong.

When I decided that I was no longer going to focus on journalism, it was mainly due to some health setbacks. I knew I would continue to accomplish other things, as I always have, and I knew I would continue to write, but I didn’t have a clear view of the path. I did, however, have faith that whatever I was meant to do, I’d be put on the right path and do the work. I have never asked for the work to be done for me.

Health wise, Fibromyalgia is a demon you never quite conquer. It is parasitic in its nature to take hold and feed off of your life force. It makes me angry, knowing how much it has slowed me down and exactly how much it has stripped me of. I battle it every single day. There will forever be good and bad days. I no longer self-abuse (I said abuse, not self-harm. Self-abuse, for me, is more mental than anything else.) when I cannot do something. I no longer berate myself when I cannot get out of bed. I no longer force myself to do things that will leave me laying in bed for weeks at a time in pain. I’ve had to let go and realize that I may physically be limited a lot of the time, but my voice and the core of who I am have remained the same. If anything, I’ve probably just gained a fresher perspective.

What has changed for me since this blog went live? I’ve changed, in some wonderful ways. Instead of writing without an awful lot of feedback, I get feedback on an almost daily basis, and quickly. When I write something great, people leave me comments or send me e-mails, and as a writer, I feel supported. No one is sitting in judgement of me here. I thank all of you for that, because I’m not judging any of you either.

Yes, I’ve come across a handful of people who shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near humans, computers, social media, animals, humans, and did I mention humans? They should have their hands removed and their mouths sutured shut, and they should be locked away from civilization because they’re making anyone with a truly serious mental illness look 1 million percent sane. Spewing hatred is incredibly unattractive, I don’t allow that here, and I don’t allow that in any aspect of my life. Spewing hatred toward women and a religious group differing from your own is fucking disgusting. I’ve had a few comments come my way that were incredibly uncalled for and completely unprovoked. However, I’ve had support from various people in many instances and the uncivilized have been cast out. I have had exactly ONE person take offense to something I said, and my hand to God, I was not anywhere in the vicinity of offensive. I was downright nice and friendly, which for me is HUGE. I answered a question with detailed, informative honesty. I was insulted and berated for it, simply because this person disagreed with me. If you don’t have anything nice to say to a person, don’t say anything at all. A simple “Thank you for reading my blog/post.” is sufficient. Don’t ask a person to elaborate on something you yourself are not knowledgeable about and then act like they’ve committed some kind of crime by answering you. If I want to offend you, believe me, I possess all the necessary tools to do so. I can go from zero to bitch in less than half a second, but I choose not to be a vicious tart here. I choose to keep this space as positive as humanly possible, and supportive. I’m not competing with anyone here for niceness, or “best blog”, or ANYTHING. I compete with myself as a writer, but there will always be better writers than I, of writers who simply have a different perspective, and that is 100% what life is all about.

We all have our personal space on the blogosphere, and if you come into mine, be respectful. If I leave a comment on your blog, you can bet it’s not going to be a hate-filled, mean rant. I will either agree, disagree, laugh with you, cry with you, or relate to you. I might even have some advice, if that’s what you happen to be seeking. I have a lot on my “life plate”, and I don’t suffer fools, assholes, or the ignorant.

To the friends I’ve made here, who make my days so much brighter with comments, e-mails, private messages, phone calls, and texts: THANK YOU. You’re all seeing me exactly as I am and that makes me feel so good inside. There is a great sense of community here and for that, I am supremely grateful.

Taking into account that this particular gesture still leaves me speechless, I have to say, it’s been a good year here. I look forward to many more.

Thank you for all being here and supporting me as an artist. Yes, even writers are artists. 🙂

Enjoying The Journey

To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the inner music the words make.” -Truman Capote

I find myself especially inspired to write and create at the moment. I’ve made a lot of progress over the last few weeks. I made a lot of changes to my original “first draft”. I’m probably on my 20th version of the story which introduces readers to the world in which I have created, and it is not only supremely better, but it is now titled and moving more and more towards completion. This pleases me because it has helped advance the progress on books 2, 3, and 4 as well. All of which have received titles I am intent on keeping, and as the story progresses, I find myself more and more fascinated with the work I am doing. There are so many days when it hardly seems like I’m the writer. Whenever you read your own work a week or so after it’s written and you’‘re totally mesmerized by the story and where it is going, it means you’ve got talent. You have the ability to forget that you’re reading something you have created. When you can surprise yourself like that, you’ve got a gift. Don’t waste it.

I don’t know if all fiction writers do extensive research or not. I’ve had so many tell me “Oh, I just made that up.”, and it always annoys me, especially if it’s another language, a city or country they have never been to, or has anything to do with the paranormal or actual spells that a practicing witch might perform. I’m a perfectionist, and because I have always written facts and hardcore opinion, it goes against me to “make it up”.  I am naturally drawn to the more spiritual and less religious aspects of certain things, but because I do speak more than one language, I am constantly trying to make sure that the dialogue is perfect.

Other than a few remaining family members, I don’t know anyone else that speaks Yiddish. It’s almost a dead language, which is why I continue to use it daily, that way what I know won’t die with me. Just the occasional word has actually started rubbing off on my friends, which is both amusing and charming. I have my brother who also speaks it, as well as my last remaining Great-Aunt, and my Aunt. I am sure other family members still use it as well, but I have about as much use for them as I would a baby’s dirty diaper.  It’s a long story, in which I will spare you my personal drama. I’ll save that for my best friend, and a reputable therapist. <smirk, wink>

I’m good with languages, but there are a few I have real trouble with. Don’t ever be surprised if I screw up what little French I have managed to retain, because I still mix it up with Spanish and/or Italian. I understand some languages that I don’t speak, and sometimes when a person that speaks little to no English approaches me for directions or needs relatively minor information, my understanding of what they’re saying can become a problem when I forget basic greetings or that I know the language at all. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought “Why didn’t I just answer her in, insert language here?” It’s a total blonde brunette moment! Of course, my brother’s French is really good, but he also took it for many more years than I did and uses it constantly. Unfortunately, none of his vast knowledge is helping me on these books. I’ve been writing for over 20 years, the only things my brother has ever heard were two eulogies and an 11 page speech I gave at a memorial service. When your own brother comes up to you at a funeral and is in awe by what you have written, that is both saying something, as well as sad that he doesn’t take the time to read what I produce. We are as alike as we are different. Libras. Can’t live with them, and strangling them is apparently frowned upon.

As per usual, I digress…

I have actually been thinking quite a bit about the cover art of the first book for the first time ever. That’s something, because even though I have an artistic eye and I have a lot of creative ideas, I don’t usually go in that direction, but I like the little bit of artistic freedom it has afforded my mind. Allowing your ability to create and expand in a new direction is a positive, exciting thing.

So, as I return to book 2’s third chapter, I am reminded, once again, to write what I know, and not sweat the small stuff. Enjoy the journey.

Down, but not OUT!

Today started off promising, until around noon when I started to fight with my wireless router. I was ready to drown the thing, but decided it was a sign to slow down. I did plenty of writing today, I even got some editing done. That’s progress. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to complete part II of the Migraine post, but it’s almost done (I’d rather not half ass my work, or my research.), and that’s better than nothing. Now I get to share this great song and rest my neck injury until tomorrow. I’m mentally & physically exhausted.