Jennifer Sivec's Blog, page 10

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Originally posted on anewperspectiveperhaps:

I was thinking today that I would rather know someone’s soul than their face and their name. But, if I am lucky to know all three, I will consider myself grateful.

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Only 31 days until the big event! Yesterday, I blogged that I would share something about myself everyday.

I figured I would start the next 31 days off right and come clean, with a confession.

So here it goes… I’m not very funny. If you’ve read any of my books, you would probably have guessed that I’m not very funny. I don’t think about or write things that are funny. But I LOVE to laugh, great big loud belly laughs, and I absolutely adore funny people.

Funny people are a wonderful muse. They’re inspirational and gifted and they just make life better. If I’m lucky, I can squeak out a one liner now and again but that’s about as much as my funny bone surfaces. Funny people remind us that life is worth living and there is a reason for the pain we have to endure.

But I laugh easily and I search for levity in most things. Best of all, I try not to take myself too seriously, which is good because my husband and my youngest son are the comedians of the family. The harder I try, the less funny I am so I don’t expect to make people laugh. But when they do, especially children or funny people, it feels wonderful! I love making my boys laugh, but potty humor is something that I can do well, so I do it often. But I don’t write it.

I write drama, angst, sadness, and pain because it’s what comes naturally and it’s where I can get lost. It’s unlikely that I will purposely ever amuse anyone with my writing, but I’ve learned to never say never.

My first BIG book signing is a month away and I’m totally freaking out, inside.

I’m excited, exhilarated, motivated, but I’m also petrified.

I’ll be at a signing with amazing, best selling authors… and then there will be little old me. I almost feel like I’ll be the ugly duckling or Cinderella before the epic transformation.

As I look back on the last year, I’ve been able to accomplish quite a bit. And a lot of it has absolutely terrified me. I released two books, started a blog, and then launched head first into social media which forced me to expose myself in ways that made me incredibly uncomfortable. I even had my own little solo signing at a lovely Italian restaurant, Spennatos, two months after my first book released.

Now, almost exactly one year after I released my first book, I’ll get to join some talented writers at the Cleveland Author Event. Since it’s my home town, I almost wonder if I magically got in by default

I self published my first book about a year ago. Leaving Eva.

Life has been so much fun since then, as I’ve been embracing my inner Author. I’ve met so many wonderful authors, bloggers, editors, publicists, graphic designers, and readers. And I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on my writing and how to grow in this craft, where I am still such a newbie. I’ve also just released my website, with the help of the wonderfully creative, prompt, and professional Jennifer Givner at Acapella Cover Design.

http://www.jennifersivec.com/

I’ve read through the synopsis for my books on numerous occasions and the realization hit me that they didn’t describe the stories nearly as well as they could, should, or would. YIKES. As with anything in life… we live and we learn. I’m in process of rewriting the synopsis for both books which I will release as they are finished. I’m thankful that my amazing editor, Rogena Mitchell-Jones pretties up my writing to make it so much better, even when I send her last minute things which she promptly sends back.

This is the new and improved synopsis for Leaving Eva:

On a dark rainy night in the middle of nowhere, Ellie, a young drug addicted mother heartlessly abandons her daughter Eva, by the side of the road. But no matter how hard she tries Ellie, can’t let herself forget her beautiful dark-haired girl. Ellie is haunted by that night, her weakness turning her into someone she never imagined she could be.

When Eva is eventually adopted by Rose and her alcoholic husband, Thomas, she becomes Brynn. She is the daughter Rose always yearned for but Thomas never wanted. Thomas’s love of whiskey combined with his animosity toward Brynn creates a violent whirlwind that turns Brynn’s childhood into a living hell.

Brynn desperately plans her escape from Thomas and the small town that imprisons her. But her plans didn’t include falling in love with Adam, a fiercely loyal and protective boy who loves her with all of his heart. Brynn has to decide if she will trust him enough to bare everything to him, as they struggle toward adulthood, and building a life of their own.

As a grown woman, Brynn moves on to find success, but is unable to truly surrender to happiness. The memories of Thomas, her continued struggle with Rose, and the pain of that dark rainy night continue to haunt her. Brynn must figure out a way to confront her fear or risk losing Adam forever.

Will she be able to move beyond her brokenness to have a normal life with a man who loves her, completely? Or will she allow the selfishness and depravity of others to finally destroy her? In spite of it all, Brynn may not have the ultimate choice as the past eventually seeks her out, in this emotional journey into one woman’s struggle to become whole again.

Leaving Eva: Jennifer Sivec, Rogena Mitchell-Jones: 9781482678901: Amazon.com: Books

My  birthday was yesterday.

My ”pretend” birthday anyway. Like many adopted or abandoned children, I don’t have any idea what day I was actually born, although it is the date on my birth certificate. I don’t have a birth story and I don’t know what my first word was. I have often wondered where I was when I took my first step, if I was held and cuddled immediately after I was born, or if my birth parents loved me. I don’t have any recollection of the first bite of food I had, or any pictures of me right after birth, or video tape of any portion of my childhood.

All of these moments and milestones are missing, of which I am reminded on a day like yesterday. The day we actually celebrate my birth. I’ve never been big celebrating my birthdays, though I love celebrating others. Nonetheless, I have come to terms with my birthday and have even come to love and anticipate it.

Though my own childhood milestones are missing and I am quite terrible with remembering dates, I have come to appreciate milestones that I have reached as an adult. The day I got engaged, promoted at work, married in Vegas, and the births of my two children. I’ve had milestones this past year that I didn’t expect which were self-publishing my first book, the birth of my blog, and then releasing my second book.

In 2014, I anticipate the release of my third book, the completion of the “Eva Series,” and then who knows what after that? Someone once told me that life is a marathon and not a sprint. I know that sentiment has been around for quite some time, but for the past couple of years I have been learning to embrace it as one of my absolute truths. While life didn’t start with a perfect beginning for me, I believe that I have chosen the milestones that I’ve been able to reach in my adulthood.

I took a Facebook quiz recently that resulted in telling me that I use both sides of my brain equally. A dreamer, a thinker, a doer, and a romantic… I believe that I am enough of a dreamer to imagine and create, but disciplined enough to anticipate and “do.” All of these qualities challenging me and confusing me as a child, now finally coming together. The life that began so uncertain, now has meaning and direction as I continue to move forward toward Milestones that I am not even aware of, yet.

It’s funny how I often wonder when I will finally “feel like an author.”  With two books, and a third on the way, I still have to pinch myself that what I have fully completed works out there. I don’t even care if they never top any best sellers list. I am just so excited that I got to write them and that there are people out there that have even bothered to read them. I don’t know when I will feel like all of this has been real and that I have been able to accomplish something that I’ve always wanted to do. Will it be when I have released my third book, my fourth, my fifth? Actually completing and then releasing the first book was a huge milestone, one that I have been dreaming of my entire life.

Every year around my birthday I start to wonder what day I was actually born. It could be the difference of a matter of days, or weeks, or even months. I’m guessing that someone had to estimate my age when they found me, and then someone assigned a date of my birth. That someone in this world who was there when I was born, taught me how to walk, talk, eat, and live, is someone that I will never know. There are days when I let myself feel a little sad about that, but most days I just look ahead to what is in front of me.

I’m excited about the prospect of what lies in front me and the milestones that I have yet to reach. Even though with each passing year, I get a little bit older, I know that it won’t matter as long as there are things to look forward to. With each “pretend birthday” there will be exciting things to celebrate… driver’s licenses, graduations, more books to release, grandchildren, and who knows what else? I know that one day I may finally feel like an Author, and I am looking forward to it. But for now, I am just thankful that I get to celebrate more birthdays.

But I am the most thankful for those BIG moments that I get to remember, now, with the people that I love the most.

 

I often feel as though I’ve had numerous lives because of the journey that I am on.

I’m sure it’s something we all feel when we reach a certain point, everything wrapped up in neat little packages of time: Childhood, High School, College, First Job, Marriage, Children, Second Job etc.

When I was young, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. As I grew older, I simply went down the path that I started, facing a lot of detours along the way, unbeknownst to me that I would end up where I am now.

Through a great deal of hard work, sacrifice, focus, and determination I have this wonderful life that I am so thankful for every day. I get to be a wife, mother, mentor, and writer. I couldn’t have envisioned all of this years ago, even if I tried. But it certainly wasn’t easy to get here. There was an incredible amount of pain, tears, moments of incredible anger and frustration, and endless moments when I simply felt lost. Miraculously, I was able to realize that life goes on and so could I. Whether it was in my career or in life, I somehow came to the realization that life wasn’t about just getting somewhere… it was about enduring and enjoying the journey. It was about stopping and smelling the flowers along the way. It was about enjoying the small victories and the tiny successes. It was about love.

I never imagined in all of dreams, how long and treacherous this journey can be, and I felt unprepared. There have been many moments when I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, travelling a road with strange companions and dangerous enemies while on the path to an unknown destination. Like Dorothy, there was a time when life was simple. But then it became more complicated, the choices bigger, and the stakes higher. Every step taking me somewhere I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go.

Life’s journey isn’t for the faint of heart. Too often, we are quick to give up and throw in the towel. Marriage, job, relationships… If we aren’t “Happy”, we quickly give in. If we aren’t satisfied, we just quit. If we don’t like something, we just move on to the next thing. Instead of being tenacious, working through it, fulfilling our commitments and standing up to the challenges, we throw in the towel. It’s a mentality in life that I don’t understand because it’s not the path that I have even chosen. It’s not that I took the high road, it’s simply that I took the long road because that was the path that seemed to best fit me.

I could never do things the easy or simple way. I’ve been told that time and time again throughout my life. There have been times when that has served me well and others when it has caused an excruciating amount of pain. I didn’t always enjoy the journey but I’ve always grown from it. We are trying to instill some of this is our children, not because we want them to experience pain, but because we want them to grow in life. We want them to enjoy the journey and find their path. And we don’t want them to be faint of heart.

Sometimes that journey is easier and the road isn’t as bumpy. But for some it’s full of twists, turns, and roads that seem downright un crossable. I don’t have any idea what type of journey my boys have ahead of them just as I didn’t know what I had in front of me. I still don’t know what lies ahead of me but for now, the path is peaceful and seems safe.

Tomorrow, that could all change.

I’m regrouping and gathering my strength. I’m refocusing on the things in life that matter most. I’m anticipating what may be out there, but experience has taught me that there is sometimes no way to be prepared. So I’m stopping to smell the flowers, bask in the love, take in the sights, and enjoy this journey for one more day.

“Your journey never ends. Life has a way of changing things in incredible ways.”~Alexander Volkov

I’ve met a lot of interesting people in my life. Heroes, criminals, writers, college dropouts, and self-made millionaires. But by far, the most interesting people I know actually live in my house, and are under the age of ten.

I was adopted, so for all of my life, there was nobody that looked like me, sounded like me, or resembled me in any way. That is… until my two precocious little boys came a long. Suddenly, I was surrounded by two little people who mirrored my husband and I, both in appearance, personality, and behavior. It was uncanny and miraculous, and I was instantly in love.

What has truly been amazing about this journey of motherhood, has been how interesting I find them. Sometimes I feel like a mad scientist or a child psychologist stalking my little experiments, watching them change and grow. Seeing them develop from tiny dependent babies to funny and intelligent little boys has been all-consuming, so much more than I ever imagined.

My oldest son, Jack, is like my husband in many ways. And because I understand him, my depth of understanding has also grown for my husband. The “baby”, Charlie, is most like me so I understand how infuriating my stubbornness can be. The beautiful pattern of our family is woven by common threads, as well our own dynamic personalities. I am often mesmerized by how truly amazing it all is.

I could listen to my children talk all day. And right now, they love to talk to me. They can’t wait to share things and tell me what is on their minds. They share every idea, hope and thought with me and I can’t get enough of it! I truly love watching their minds work, thoughts formulate, and theories about life develop.

I love how much they rely on my husband and I to help create their core beliefs. But it’s always fun to watch how they take what they’ve learned and run with it. Whether it’s the answers to the big questions or the little ones, it feels like a privilege to witness them evolve and grow.

Jack recently realized that he has the ability to “choose” the big things in his life. Up until then, he believed that his course was set by us. It never occurred to him that he could do something different than what his Dad and I decided. This revelation that he could actually decide, didn’t change much for him. But his mind opened up just a little bit more on that day. With his newfound epiphany he edged slightly away from my little boy, to a wiser one.

I read somewhere that if you listen to your children when they are small, they will come to you when they are bigger. I’ve become a better listener, and what I’ve found is that I’m actually very interested. Whether it is their plan for their world in Minecraft, or what they are doing in school, or which wrestler is making his return debut-I hang onto their every word. And I listen. Always.

They are so interesting. Their passion, reflection, thoughts, beliefs, and ideas. They are a gift wrapped up in a beautiful little package borne of innocence, goodness, and discovery. All of which are gone way too quickly. I don’t remember thinking and imagining so sweetly. Those days are long gone for me, but when I see them in my children I find so much joy and happiness.

Charlie still believes in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, even though Jack has spilled the beans on countless occasions. But Jack still thinks that his dad and I are the best people in the world, and they both still love to cuddle with us every chance they get.

I am anxious to see what they will become. I can’t wait to watch and listen to them grow, though I am not in a hurry for them to do so. And I can’t believe that I made such beautiful children and that they can mesmerize me so completely.

I hope that as a mother, this complete interest in them early in their lives will open the door to more important moments when they are older. The conversations that will be needed when they are struggling with life and with themselves.

I don’t see myself ever losing interest in them, but I’m a realist and I know that there will be times-maybe even years when it will have to be from afar. But I hope they will always know that they will remain the most interesting people in my life.

And I hope against hope, that they will feel just a smidgen of that for me.

So, I’m working on my third book. And it’s going painfully slow.

Painfully.

I decided that the story was getting too dark, so now I need my main character to experience a little more love in her life. So now, I need to go back and add it. The love that is. The truth is… I love dark stories. I always have. The twistier and uglier, the better. I think that’s why I love mythology when I was a girl. Mythology rarely had the Happily Ever After and I was good with that, even at a young age.

My first two books were dark. Sad, ugly, tragic, and dark. I actually wrote about people killing and being killed, which surprised me because I didn’t plan it that way. It just happened because that’s where the story went. That is the beauty of writing, at least for me. Something comes out of nothing and then the unexpected happens. Magic.

But I’m having a hard time getting to a point in the story that makes me feel like I have finally made progress. I’m at least, if not more than halfway into the first draft. Once the draft is done, I tell myself that I’ll feel more resolved but chances are that I won’t. Since I’ve been writing again there is a consistent sense of things being undone. I feel more sane and there is a lot less chaos in my head, but I definitely feel a lack of completion in my daily life.

The fact is, I’m just busy. With a full time career that has full time responsibilities, a beautiful but active family, two dogs, parents who aren’t in the best of health, and a brain that won’t settle down… it’s hard to find the time to write. Even now, I’m blogging when I should be trying to figure out why my characters love each other so much. But I am writing and the exercise of writing and creating is what gives me peace, helps me breathe, and quiets the noise in my head. It always has. But moments like this don’t come every day.

My last post was about needing a vacation. But truly, I know that I can’t take a vacation from my own mind, only from some of the rigors of life. I’m always questioning how I can finish the next book, and with each one it becomes increasingly more difficult. But I do know that I need to be more disciplined in my writing. Writing instead of Facebooking tweeting, and daydreaming about writing. I need to just hunker down, “clear the mechanism” (For Love of the Game), and write, even if it stinks. I can work out the bugs after the first draft is done, after my editor and awesome pre-readers get done hacking it up.

Sometimes I am frustrated because I feel that there are so many stories to tell, yet not enough hours in the day to tell them in. When I began my first book, I told myself that I would feel like a writer after it was done. Then it became, after the second book is finished. Now it feels like, after the third book is finished, I may finally feel like a writer.

But who knows? Maybe I will never feel complete again. Maybe that is what compels me to write, this inward sense that there is so much more to write about. I’m hoping that after I finish this third book, that I will be able to take a little teensy weensy break before I write the third book in the Eva series. The overall 3rd Book, tentatively titled Run to You, was meant to give me a break from the heaviness of the Eva series. This was supposed to be my easy novel. As it turns out, it has actually become my most difficult in many ways. Now that my main character wants more love, it’s proven to be more challenging. But being more challenged it great!

So I gotta go now and try to bang out some more of this story. That is unless another shiny object comes floating by…

I need a vacation.

Wait… I NEED a vacation.

No, wait… I NEED a VACATION!!!!!

The last time I went away was to NYC with the crazy, fun women in my family. It was a blast, but it was during a difficult time in my life. My mind was mostly in Manhatten, but never too far from where I was trying to escape. That’s the funny thing about “getting away.” When you’re on a vacation, you never can truly get away from yourself, or the things that plague you. They always seem to find you no matter where you are.

But as life ebbs and flows, and that time has now passed… I realize that it’s been awhile since I’ve had a proper vacation. I need the kind of vacation where I can close my eyes, clear my mind, lie in the sun, and listen to the sound of crashing waves for about six hours. Normally I would be concerned about the fact that I’m even close to being swimsuit-worthy. But I don’t even care about that. I just need some blue sky and some clear water, with zero obligations, even just for a day.

Or two.

It’s been a long time. Too long to have escaped the grind of daily life and adult responsibilities. I watch my children play sometimes and I love how carefree and relaxed they get to be. There is nothing in the world that they need to be concerned about… at least, not yet. I know that they are lucky. A lot of children have adult concerns when they shouldn’t. But children should just be kids-happy and free. They shouldn’t be burdened by the heaviness a lifetime weighs upon us.

I remember the days when I had no one to worry about, but me. They went so fast without me even realizing it. And now I am a grown up with adult problems and responsibilities. I’m a mother, wife, boss, writer, and daughter. Finding the time to clear my mind is difficult because it’s always racing from one role or thought, directly to the next. But that is who I am. I’ve never been able to relax. I’ve always been a high energy, high strung, multiple hat-wearing kind of girl.

As ironic as it may seem, I do find my zen in my family. They are my beach in many ways. They calm and center me almost as much as I imagine the waves of the bluest ocean, would do. They also toss me around like those waves, but I love every wonderful moment of it. I feel so amazingly fortunate to have to have my husband and children. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Their presence gives me purpose and peace.

I also find peace in writing. In telling a story, or blogging, or imagining an idea. I love the entire process of creating something out of nothing. It calms my mind and cleans out the dust in the corners in ways that I don’t understand. But being at peace is one thing, while relaxing completely, is another.

Truth be told, I would love to learn exactly how to relax. My entire life, I’ve never been able to. I know that is what a beach and the sound of crashing waves would do for me right now. I know that I deserve it, I’ve worked hard for it, and I need it. I’ve been hearing a beach call my name for many months now. It’s beckoning me to sit by her blue water, dig my feet into her soft warm sand, and do nothing but breathe.

Breathe.

So, until I get there, I’m going to take a moment every day to imagine the sun on my face. I’m going to imagine that feeling you get after a full day of warm, sweet nothingness. And I’m going to wish myself there, very soon.

Very, very soon.

Leaving Eva, Page 112

Adam turned away. It was becoming a familiar scene between them, angry and repetitive. The frustration was ongoing and palpable in every encounter, to the point that they were beginning to avoid one another. They were watching TV in seperate rooms, reading the newspaper in silence, and finding reasons to not spend time together. They started slipping farther and farther apart without realizing it, more out of apathy than anger.

Now he was angry, and he had every right to be this time. But she fought him as she always did. Even when he was right, she fought. It drove him crazy that she wouldn’t just admit when she was wrong. It was as though she had something to prove all of the time, and if was becoming harder and harder to be married to her. He was tired of the constant battles. Is everyone’s marriage this hard all of the time?! Dammit!

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00CBDHYCG?cache=4bf497c1b34a2ec8946d9a13512a31a1&pi=SY200_QL40#ref=mp_s_a_1_2&qid=1391480227&sr=1-2