Saturday, September 27, 2014

Where have all the red tailed hawks gone?

Where have all the red tailed hawks gone that greet me on my right of passage? Where are they to instruct and direct a path I once thought consciously right? Where have they gone to a better place or to assist another in the journey of a life time? Was I confused and chose a wrong side road, now I look back and now I stare forward d wondering where all the hawks have gone?

Hey, I found this really awesome Etsy listing at https://www.etsy.com/listing/204625216/wedding-veilbw-photo-lamp-shade

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Enjoyed reading The Circus in Me http://www.booktrack.com/read/528a6f50e5654b17b1b0b86e6bfa9d87
Enjoyed reading The Tangled Tears http://www.booktrack.com/read/73156016a7364368acea56889615dedd

Trust Yourself- Quotes by Kelly Rae Roberts


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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Hey, I found this really awesome Etsy listing at https://www.etsy.com/listing/204625216/wedding-veilbw-photo-lamp-shade

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Want to read the newest Young Adult Novel by S.M. Bjarnson? The Sacrificing Mother, Due out October 2014

Hello! Book Bloggers and Avid Readers!
My name is S.M. Bjarnson, I am a two time self-published author and am in contact with you to help promote and hopefully review my newest novel, The Sacrificing Mother due out October of 2014. The Sacrificing Mother dives deep into the world of Laney Rhodes, a 17 year old girl, who loves nothing more than to surf. Laney’s life has never be smooth sailing or easy going. To be blunt her mother is an escort/stripper/sexual favors kind of a woman. Yes, to be exact Rubee Rhodes was quite the scandal, who had an inappropriate relationship with alcohol.  
Of course we cannot commence the storytelling process without justifying the backstory and whence it began. So all aboard criminals and lovers let’s enter the winding roads and deserted isles of a girl named Laney Rhodes.
There should always be two types of pregnancy tests. One, being for women who has established themselves in society or who are 30 years of age or older. The other one that is so apparently portrayed in my mind’s eye. Is for all those teenagers, those sweethearts running off to do the act they think will last forever. Guess what in denial tweens, it doesn’t!
So instead of the occasionally two lines or plus sign, for the youth of our nation there should be two replies for breaking the news: For NO it should state in all caps and in bold big blinking letters CONGRATS! As it shoots out confetti.  If you happen to be as unlucky as I am, then you would read the equivalent to the overused acronym FML. These three letters do not blink or congratulate you, they stand tall and wide. Your future is carved into a plastic flamingo lawn ornament, instead of an honoree plaque as a college graduate.

Oh, if only I could just take this worry, and surf the angst away. My, wouldn’t everyday be a little bit brighter! So, you’re wondering who the guy is that so kindly invested in me with his sperm. Well, I fell in love for the first time that summer or maybe the second, the second time I am still a little unsure about… Audience members meet the boys; Noah Adler, 19 year old college bound, gorgeous, virgin galore. Briton Clark, 22 year old bodyguard at my mother’s strip club. One night she finds definite disaster in the blue eyes of Briton and pure romance with Noah. The heart throbs have turned tables on her and cupid is now calling her out stupid.

All in favor reading this heart beating story sign me a comment and I will get back to you! Don't forget the cover reveal with Double Decker Book Blog! Can't wait for the excitement to spread! -S.M. Bjarnson 
(BACK COVER) 

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Lying to Myself

I stood stranded but not by the words of others, but by the words my own self. The fact remains the same, and yet I keep questioning the existence in the talents and creative works I strive to perfect. My knowledge of the industry has turned into a chaotic battle of love turned to hate, mostly an anxious worry zone with flashing yellow lights, warning me of rocky weather. Who am I to be if not the writer, dreamer I have always believed myself to be? There was a strange coincidence, one that didn't belong to me, or anyone's life. One that merely took up space waiting for someone to doubt their abilities to perform a better outcome. One person who fell short and stopped questioning the very pull and intuition in his or her own heart/soul. Can you believe we lie to ourselves in such a way? Reminding the mockery of men that they are right and we could never add up to whatever has been estimated as justifiable, on good graces. Rumors were spread that the talent in my fingertips will explode and one day the whole world will listen to the tantalizing words or phrases I try to convince true.

My thoughts removed, for good reason. Now I am a blank canvas waiting to be washed away from the blank screen I stare at all alone.

Where are the rehabilitation centers for the writers in pain? Our strong urges creating rifts in the textile world, we are but artists in a community of business suits. My hair waved in a fire red, demanding attention, commanding to be heard. Our skin bleached white with the hope mistakes will fade away. Does it occur too many that the transgression of words will reflect in those we found fictionally relevant?

A long exhale before we read the next sentence that has yet to be written…I have yet to find my muse, find the pilgrimage to a wonderful life. But yet I wake up and click on the computer screen staring into a blank canvas, awaiting the amazement as I type so carefully the fluent letters I have once or always rejected. Remembering I have loved the idea of them long before they came along to me.
–S.M. Bjarnson

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Book Track

Enjoyed reading The Circus in Me http://www.booktrack.com/read/528a6f50e5654b17b1b0b86e6bfa9d87

BookTrack

Enjoyed reading The Tangled Tears http://www.booktrack.com/read/73156016a7364368acea56889615dedd