Notes from my Black
Recently I cut ties with another author who asked me to help them in a professional way. Designing books and laying out pages come naturally to me…
And I get that people don’t understand what all goes into it. It looks and sounds easy… so there is a lack of respect for it. Once I’m done and everything is super clean and precise, it just looks right.
This author treated me like I was stupid. Like I owed her… she asked me to proof her work too. I should have charged her for it, but I don’t edit other people’s work.
Anyway… bury the lead. She came to the rescue in her own way to make sure I knew I was absolutely handling everything wrong. Nice. I felt that trauma response again when she said “If it were me…” FUCK! I thought I’d worked through that. Helpful hint dealing with people in their moments of intense stress. DONT TELL THEM THEY ARE DOING IT WRONG OR THAT IFNIT WERE YOU, YOU’D DONIT DIFFERENTLY. Just sayin, it doesn’t help and that abrasion to the situation is just more stress piled on to the pile they are just now in the moment are dealing with.
I had to take a few hours away from Her. It was obvious to her she’d crossed a line. It’s not like I could go anywhere. I just needed to chill and swallow my irritation.
On a sex note (I know random, right?) I have this pent up need.