Showing posts with label Fathers. Show all posts

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Dreams, Wishes, Future...

I love to dream. I love exploring my self-conscious and gaining insight into the mysteries I wasn't even aware were pulling on my conscious. Dreams are my mind's way of processing the world around me and even when they don't make sense, I embrace them...

My dreams can be the beginning of a story I had no idea needed writing or could be just the thing I needed to get that scene just right. They spark that part of me that believes magic is real, aliens exist, and an open mind is the only way in which to live.

Sometimes my only faith can be found in God and in dreams...

Take for instance Saturday (January 27, 2018, can you believe we are in 2018?) I was in bed completely exhausted. I'd been cooking for the week ahead, researching for my latest project, and writing all day... Not usually the combination for dream territory, but I gave in and shut down everything, and gave into the feeling. I fell alseep thinking about "Jenna".

She was the wallflower used to living her life in the shadows. She was used to life passing her by. Used to not trying, because it was easier than failing.

She was the child of two people who never would have had her if they had not taken the risk to be together. Her parents had been Adventurers and she was caution incarnate. She was ready for more. Ready to jump off the cliff and find out whether she could fly. She was a story ready to be written and I wanted to be the person to write her.

I wanted to be the person who got to know her and to be there when she found her purpose in the world. In my dreams, she's an outline. The promise of a story sure to get my synapsis firing,

It was the same when I wrote Dessani Queen, Wintr's Homecoming, Witch's Reflection, or She Gets What She Wants. I just knew she was something worth exploring.

Dreams, stories, and books can be heartbreaking. They can be unfulfilled wishes. They can be the future yet to come. But boy-oh-boy can they be fun to read.

"Jenna" is and was a story I knew I would create. She is the kinder Jinx. The more timid Makayla. At the beginning of her growing awareness feminity and her own strength as a woman, she is learning just how exciting life could be when making the "right" choice wasn't always the way to get to her objective. She was a heroine and I couldn't wait to see how her story shaped out.

How crazy is it, that I can dream something and feel so certain that it was meant to be shared? That by placing pen to paper I am sharing a part of myself to the outside world. Quite literally, because if you have read about my writing style before you knew I write on pen and paper as well as typing. I like the tactile sensation of working through writer's block by putting orders down with ink and seeing how I still feel about that scene when I am actually typing up.

As a child, writing was my release. It was how I dealt with my feeling and how I organized my thoughts. Now it is as paramount as breathing. It is how I create content girls and women like me wished they had when it seemed like the world was crashing in and they wanted to read about someone who knew about their experiences... Who shared features with them and knew that coconut oil was life. I write and for the most part, it is for me. It feeds that creative part of me, but it is also for my sisters, friends, aunts, and for the women who read the books traditionally offered by mainstream media and feel unfulfilled because they aren't pale skinned. They aren't natural blondes with beautiful blue eyes.

Their hair is kinky. Their eyes are, for the most part, varying shades of brown. Their universe doesn't necessarily start or end with the ghetto and gansta life. They want to believe in the supernatural for a few hours during the day and to read about a heroine that looks like them finding love with a hero. They want that ever elusive happily ever after.

You know the one... With the guy on horseback, preferably with no shirt, a pearly white smile, and bulging arm muscles.

I want the people who read my books to dream. About their wishes. About their future... I want them to read those books and know their futures are unbelievably bright. Happily ever after isn't just for our paler friends. It is for us. Our Princes aren't just disowned royals without a dime to their name and aspirations of being a musician.

Contact Info:

Website:

www.DurandPublishing.net

Facebook:

Durand Publishing

Wintr's Homecoming

Jaguar Nights

Instagram:

Jensawanderingthoughts

Monday, March 13, 2017

Regret

My fear controlled me.

The weight of it surrounded me.

I feared myself.

My world.

My future.

I feared living a life of failure.

Now I only fear the regret of not trying.

Jen A. Durand

Completed Works

Secrets, Lies, & Betrayal Series:

Wintr’s Homecoming: Secrets

The Virgins Club:

The Planner

The Fixer

The Dreamer

Lipstick Diaries:

Solo Romances:

Things We Left Unsaid

Stuck Between Two Millionaires

Twins For Christmas

Lasting Kind Of Love

True Match Arrangements:

Billionaire’s Perfect Bride
Billionaire's Contracted Family

The Young and The Powerful

Witch’s Reflection

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Where Do I See Myself In Five Years...

Someone asked me that question during a mock interview and it floored me a little. Not because I do not think about my future or what I want in that future. But because the way I think of it is not in the way a prospective employer or business partner. In the same way I do not think of success in terms of awards or accolades.

I do things, not in the hopes that they will be well received, but in the hopes I never regret not doing it. People say it is better to say sorry, than to ask for permission and be denied. Stepping into this world of adulthood it is becoming more and more apparent that nothing in life happens according to plan.

In some ways I guess I believe in fate. Not in the sense that people have no control over their future, but in the sense that there are things people have to go through. There is hurt people have to feel and lessons people have to learn.
I live a relatively tame life. I personally think that I am a boring person. Individually. My family as a whole has its moments. But me on a daily basis is the normal grind of a girl trying to carve out a life of success for herself. Maybe it's because I write female leads with such dramatic, comedic, and amazing sex lives that my life just pales in comparison?
I work, hang with friends or family, cook, write, respond to emails. Occusionaply on my off hours I do legal research for family members who believe I live off of prayers and plates of rice. (Though I shouldn't complain too much because they do feed me and prayers are always appreciated.) My present is full, crazy, stressful, busy, and happy for the most part. My future will hopefully be the same way.

When I think of the future it is not in set markers. I think about it in the sense of personal success. I approach work with the mindset that my hard work may not always be rewarded, but at least I know I did the best that I could.
In five years, I want to be stronger, wiser, and smarter than I am today. I want to be surrounded in a eco system of love. I want to own a house. Run a financially solid business. Excel in my professional field and be the kind of person I have always wanted to be.

I hope to be independent and happy in whatever position I am in because I know I have dreams and the tools to reach them. Now try saying all of that to a prospective employer and not feeling like you have talked to much. Hence why that is a question I am constantly searching for the canned answer for. The future a fluid thing with all sorts of ripples and waves. I have no clue where I will be or the people who will be beside me. But I do know in five or ten years I will be successful...
Because in my mind I am successful here and now. Just by being able to be myself, learn, change, mold my future, and reach for what I want without asking permission, but occasionally tossing apologies over my shoulder.

Completed Works

Secrets, Lies, & Betrayal Series:

Wintr’s Homecoming: Secrets

The Virgins Club:

The Planner

The Fixer

The Dreamer

Lipstick Diaries:

Solo Romances:

Things We Left Unsaid

Stuck Between Two Millionaires

Twins For Christmas

Lasting Kind Of Love

True Match Arrangements:

Billionaire’s Perfect Bride
Billionaire's Contracted Family

The Young and The Powerful

Witch’s Reflection

Friday, February 3, 2017

Pen and Paper

I write because some words can't be spoken aloud.

They stick to the base of my throat unable to make a sound.

I struggle to express my thoughts but others still think that I am mute.

I write because some words can't be spoken aloud.

I can't explain the depths of my emotions.

I can't explain the anger or my fear.

I can't explain the unseen scars or the newly formed wounds.

I write because some words can't be spoken aloud.

My scars are deep and my voice can't express.

I struggle to open my mouth and let the words form.

I struggle to release the betrayal,

to share the hurt.

I seek understanding.

I seek acknowledgment.

I write because some words can't be spoken aloud.

Because those who should hear,

don't.

Because those who should see,

don't

Because spoken words can be forgotten.

But pen and paper remember all things.

Jen A. Durand

Completed Works

Secrets, Lies, & Betrayal Series:

Wintr’s Homecoming: Secrets

Jaguar Nights: Lies

Pearl Moon: Betrayal

Shadowy Lights: Fear

Cold Sun: Obsession

The Virgins Club:

The Planner

The Fixer

The Dreamer

Lipstick Diaries:

Shy Meets Bold

Wicked Meets Bad Boy

Confident Meets Bold

Solo Romances:

The Prince’s Heart

Closing The Deal

Things We Left Unsaid

Stuck Between Two Millionaires

Twins For Christmas

Lasting Kind Of Love

Billionaire’s Perfect Bride

The Young and The Powerful

Witch’s Reflection

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Fiction Is Essentially My Therapy

When I am writing or reading a story. I am dropped into this world or this life with some stark differences from my reality. When I am reading I am this silent observer or the receiver of this barrage of sensations and emotions. When I am writing I am the creator of a world where anything can happen and often does. Most of my readers will notice that my stories tend to have common themes. Shared connections.

One of the themes is family. Growing up and even now in my adult life, family is the corner stone of everything that I do. I was taught to honor my parents. Care for and look after my siblings. Work towards a future with the ability to sustain and provide for children.

My childhood was not an easy one. My parents divorced. My father was unfaithful and my mother was bitter. They were the two biggest forces in my life and my childhood was marred by their inability to at the very least immunize their children from the ensuing war.

I love my parents separately. Together they generally combust, unless in public, unable to engage in the simplest of conversations without digs and barely camouflaged anger.

My mother has never really let go of her hurt. Fifteen years later she is still the scorned woman. A fact she is loathed to admit, but is unable to deny.

Intelligent, caring, and completely driven by the success of her children. My mother is a force of nature with only two or three blindsides. Most of them revolving around her romantic entanglements.

When I write about Mothers I usually take the qualities I love most about my mother. Her ability to throw a meal together out of nothing. Her love of children and her traditional caribbean influence. My stories reflect her push for her children, not only to succeed, but to start pushing out those grandchildren she thought would at least come from the oldest of her brood by now.

More often then not the mothers in my stories are fierce, independent, and a source of comic relief.

I also explore the qualities I do not love so much about my mother. Her stagnation when it to the end of her marriage and her anger in the way it ended.

In Wintr's Homecoming, readers are introduced to Jinx Wintr. The not quite orphan. Her father was in the shoulder's in which their family stood. He had a bond not only with his wife, but also with the child. When he dies, Jinx's mother falls into this trap of the Mate bond and becomes this despondent shell of a woman. Leaving her daughter to deal with feelings of abandonment and searching for a new family while avoiding such things like romantic love. Jinx saw what love did to her once vibrant mother and when confronted with her own mate seeks to avoid the pain of such loss by running away from it.

When I write about Fathers I also focus on the qualities I admire in my father. His conviction, boisterous personality, and warmth. I was a daddy's girl for most of my life even after the divorce and love my father in spite of what I consider to be personal failures on his part. The fathers in my story can fall on two spectrums even within one story.

Take for instance, Prince's Heart. Vashti is the illegitimate daughter of a King and spent most of her life as a slave. Her father is this cold hearted dictator. He does not care for his children but focuses on his own wants and needs. He offers her freedom by serving her to his allies as a prize in exchange for continued peace and protection.

The flip to this is King Cyrus. Vashti's father in law. He is this large war forged King. He has the love and respect of his children and shows her the qualities of a father she'd never experienced in her own life. Cyrus is there for his children and while he may not be the best husband, the family bond is a strong one.

My father continued to see the woman he cheated on my mother with. They have a daughter together and live in the same house. She and I have a contentious relationship at best. Not because she was the "Mistress" or because I consider her to be the reason why my parent's relationship failed. But because she as a woman embodies all of the traits I dislike in other woman.

We have a history of actions taken on both sides that have culminated into a situation in which it is best if we do not acknowledge each other. She is not my stepmother or stepparent. She is, in my mind, one of my father's failing. Their continued relationship has and probably will continue to confound me until the end of time.

When I write, this is also explored in my stories in shorter snippets. In Prince's Heart, Vashti shares stories of how she was treated by her own stepmother.

In Cold Sun, Talia Gage is on reincarnated life number four. Her previous lives were marred by murder and betrayal. In her second life she was killed by her father's second wife. Driven by jealousy and greed, she killed Talia in an effort to elevate the standing of her own child.

Writing for me is not only an expression valve, but also a way of exploring my own feelings. It is why writing is such a personal thing for me. I am reveling parts of my soul and trying to create reality within the fiction. Order in the center of Chaos.

The characters I create are embodiments of what is around me. The good, bad and okay is embedded in the scenes and dialogue.

Fiction Is Essentially My Therapy Video