Hello Jevenna, please tell us about yourself and your work:
Why do you write?
I can’t not write. Okay, double negation there, but it seems to fit, and you’ll forgive me.
It’s very simple. I have to write. This stems from having too many stories crammed in the head, not enough room to keep them there, and every one of them has to come out, in some form.
So maybe it was just easier for me to put these stories as words; I can paint (told I’m pretty good at it), can tell a good tale of two (But usually scare myself if it’s a ghost story), can’t remember a joke to save my life (But sure love to hear them), and I’m a fast typist. Writing seemed to fit.
Then, when the stories came out, and the romance ‘somehow’ slipped into each one, I figured I might as well stick to what I’m good at, be the author I was meant to be, and go on from there. You need a really good sense of humor to do this. And a lot of hard knocks. If you were able to look at my history, you’d see my knocks as punches to the face, kicked when down, and set on fire…
Okay, a little dramatic, but I did go through a tornado, fire, loss of a baby and a death threat, so I do know what hard knocks are.
In other words, I don’t write for the money or praise—Lord knows I’ve gained neither. I do it because of what all true authors know in their heart…writing is the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the ink smudging our veins. It’s not a hobby, it’s our heartbeat.
To be successful as an author, what do you see as the main goal?
Was I supposed to be successful? Jeez! I must be doing it all wrong.
I would describe it as…well, riding a bike backwards, falling off, then kicking the bike at least a dozen times, breaking a few toes, and wondering why the bike decided to be so mean all of a sudden.
Short of that, my goal is not to please anyone but my inner me. If I make a person smile, get them to really think about something they’ve ignored for a long, loooong time, or they have a good laugh while reading my books, I’m okay with that. So long as they don’t laugh AT me. Then I’m not okay with that.
And what exactly is success? Tons of fame, huge mansion I’d never want to actually live in, ‘friends’ following you like Noah to the Ark on every social media scheme? No. To me, success is just getting up in the morning, being able to say, “Okay, who gets to love whom today, or should I be killing off one of my antagonists? I mean, he deserves it, doesn’t he?” You would have to live next to my lovely neighbor to understand where these anger issues come from.
It’s a grindstone, and to gain the perfect pound of flour, you have to stick at it, no matter what. My goal? The perfect loaf of bread made into words.
What inspires you and how do you channel it when you need inspiration?
My inspiration is my bookshelf. It’s always been my bookshelf. And the library. And my E-reader. And other authors. And… You get the point.
Channeling the process? That’s a whole other story. I can’t channel. I’m like a flowing river, plum full of rapids that are ready to swamp my canoe without notice, then go out and carve my own path. I don’t get stuck writing, I don’t have the dreaded “Brain Freeze”, where I can’t think of a plot, or a title, or even a new character’s name. My titles are my babies. It’s the first thing I come up with, usually while in a vehicle, or first falling asleep. I have “Brain Diarrhea”. It just doesn’t stop.
A third of the way through writing one book, I’ll be writing another, go back and forth, then think of another idea, a whole other story, and have to write that one too.
Currently, I’m doing five. And somehow, someway, they’ll all turn out fine. Go figure.
Pantser? You bet ya!
What advice can you give to aspiring authors?
None. None, whatsoever. Nada. Nill. Zippo. Harsh, isn’t it?
I’m not a teacher, never going to be a teacher, never liked most of my teachers.
I’m an ‘artist’. Takes one to know one. We’re eccentric, a bit neurotic, don’t play nice with others, can’t stand still, and we never look back once our masterpiece is painted. And we certainly don’t like it when others look back and criticize that ‘masterpiece’.
Advice isn’t my forte. The one thing I can say is I’d gotten ‘advice’ from another author—darling, sweet old hag. She told me to quit, find a real job. (Apparently being a dairy farmer for over a quarter of a century, and a dedicated author every other second, wasn’t job enough for her?)
Thank God I don’t listen to old hags. They make my teeth ache.
What advice would you give to the youth of today (Not just authors)?
Put down the %^&$ phone!!!!
Throw it in the trash, pick up a pen…okay, it’s that small, metally-looking object you either dropped in the bottom of your purse, lost under the seat of your car if you’re a guy, or jeez! Just go out and buy one. They do make pens, and sell them—every day.
And start from there. I don’t suggest the youth go out and write a book. It’s not that simple, and it’ll eat at your soul like frog spit. And you’d be my competition and clearly stated above, it don’t play nice, nor like to share my miniscule ‘success’.
What I suggest is you look around, absorb the real world, not the media-personified can’t-live-without-it world, but the real thing. Let it sink into your blood; let that eat at your soul. You’ll understand once you get there. Until then, put down the *$^$ phone! You’re gonna kill someone, texting and driving, and it’ll probably be me.
What’s on your bucket list?
I don’t get to enjoy much of the real world, stuck working thirty hours a day, ten days a week. I haven’t had a vacation in twenty-six years. If you think I’m kidding…I’m not.
Top of my bucket list is cliff hang-gliding. I’d love to do that. Just climb the mountain, jump off, and hopefully not splatter at the bottom. Rule one: check the parachute!
Bucket lists are a fate/destiny thing. You get one or the other, not both. Translation: this life, or the one you wish you had, then find out it wasn’t yours when you get to Heaven and reprimanded severely for coveting something of another? Not for me.
I want to enjoy Heaven, not be scolded for coveting once I’m there.
Tell us about your book:
Two words: tough woman.
Nope, can’t do it in only four. So here goes:
Megan’s Falls is about a woman, Roxy Matherson, who is a tough, independent, resourceful female, who gets the job done by any means necessary, has a soft side and a vulnerable side—and is the wife of a cheating, lying bastard. Or so she thinks…
She is also the homicide detective of Sweet Willow, North Dakota. (Fictional town, don’t bother trying to find it on a map.) Her aunt Becca, its previous sheriff, and her uncle Fox, its newest head of the police force, they’re keeping the peace in the family, so to speak.
When Roxy’s told of another murder victim being dumped by the Falls, she’s more than aware she has to be the first one on the scene. But she never figured she come into the crosshairs of a possible serial killer, once finding the victim cut up into pieces. Nor does she want to work with her soon-to-be ex, Jake Yamanti, who she caught kissing his previous girlfriend…and is lead man with the FBI, stepping on her ladder of success.
Her marriage falling apart, a killer who keeps killing Sweet Willow’s women, and a husband that wants her back, Roxy will do everything she can to keep it together. How hard can that be?
Okay, pretty hard, once she forgives Jake, yet can’t quite come clean with stealing crucial evidence to spite the arrogant FBI man.
Megan’s Falls is book two of my series, Sinners of Old Creek.
Book 1, Wise Indecision, is out now on Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IDOOKK6
Book 3, High Edges, is coming early summer 2014
Other Titles out now on Amazon.com
An Idealistic Blue
Eruption of Volcanoes
The Tempting Degrees of Celsius
coming throughout 2014:
Beneath the Lace
Seduction of Saber
Breathless Response (Soul Mate Publishing)
After the Shore (Soul Mate Publishing)
What would you like readers to know about you?
I’m just so gosh darn loveable. (Ask the husband of twenty-six years and counting about that one.) Although, there are days when I’m not; then I go right to my computer and kill off another character, maybe two; saves me any eventual real world prison time.
My actual passion is historical regency. Love to write it. Love to read it. Just haven’t found the time to get mine published.
Time travel would get a real workout by me if I could go back to when a rake was what he was. Delicious.
I like to write men’s POVs, a whole lot more than I like writing women’s POVs. Don’t know why this is. Guess it stems from being surrounded by men all day, and a whole lot of swearing involved. (Although I can honestly say my husband doesn’t swear—at all. It’s me…sorry, I have a bit of a potty mouth.)
I can take apart a combine in my sleep. Jeez! I’m the ‘dirt girl’ around my place. If it involves dirt—aka soil—I’m you’re girl. I love to be the first out there, planting something. Usually in a couple hundred acres, but size doesn’t really matter, does it, as long as there is dirt.
I’m all soft and gooey on the inside, and just as soft and gooey on the outside. No hard shell—at all. Criticism is like acid on my skin.
I learn five new things every day. Not huge things, but enough to keep the brain flowing. Why five? I like the number.
I cried when I got my first like on my author page. Yes, folks, cried. It was that first second where a ‘stranger’ cared about little `ole me—little `ole farm girl. See? Soft and gooey.
I’m the biggest introvert there is. Some say they are, but no, I’m it. I break into a cold sweat meeting new people.
Have heart palpitations driving a car. I need my truck! Semi would be better.
My kids call my vocal tone ‘the fog horn on dry land’.
And … I’ve been hit by three drunk drivers! How unlucky is that? So criticize all you want, I’ll bounce back. Hence, I don’t drink alcohol. Probably should, but don’t…and won’t!