As the last page is turned on The Sacrificing Mother, by S.M. Bjarnson

As the last page is written on 

The Sacrificing Mother

S.M. Bjarnson

As I sum up my first actual Novel, not novella, The Sacrificing Mother, I am almost at a loss. All my words have been spoken and yet there is more to be said about this journey, about this experience to the readers of young adult novels. 

One day, I remind myself, yesterday neglected to falter and tomorrow you shall rise again! One day I tell myself there will be plenty of days when one cannot concoct happiness into the pages she/he has written. One day I confirm there are plenty more just like this one coming my way. Wouldn't I engage to say that I would suffer this writer's depression of those many days for the decades of success that await me? I plead with myself I need this victory this win I have to claim as mine.

With every word flowing out as a chaotic struggle to sound a bit above water, yet remaining under the brink of solitude. IT bites at you and swiftly there is a quiet comforting voice in the background whispering to you that tomorrow is another day and you will survive this one so you may endure and enjoy the next one. I let myself know you have become strong. Your weakness only make you exceed limits only you are aware of. There is a beauty in this battle. A welcoming tone as the chime of the fight begins, you are startled at first wondered where this potential victim came from, you are your opponent.

You close your timid eyes wondering how quickly it will be to take down that which is yourself, inevitably. Your stance in position for a fair fistful. Were you obligated to take over this mortal enemy? Was it possible to merely avoid the situation and forfeit the war that raged among the heart and mind? Were you wise in your steps that you could so carelessly shake hands and let that be it?

Did you take certain precautions that would allow you to have a pass here?

Welcome to the Writer's Realm, fight for your life, or rather your words!

Consisting of structures you wrote and once loved silhouettes of images you portrayed, betraying you at every inch. Bandages bleeding from the coursing in my veins I was a viper stinging in my own thoughts. Poisoning the very thoughts that caused such a perfectionist writer.

My vision of stories blank as blackboards. The wisdom of my elders vanished as I took my first blow. Where were the faults I tried to correct? I wanted to search in depth for the wise words I once lost.

There were mentions of talents long forgotten.

The talent in which one grew like a plant that you watered and fed daily of light and literature. I confessed to having that very plant grow inside me once and now it had sprouted and took over the very being I called home. I commenced the silence. It tries to steal the very soul I live in.

I followed in my own footsteps and alas won out among the blood and tears of the fore comings. My bravery was a mighty win. My courage rang clear as my words were set free. My mind finally at ease. My world at a calm humble peace.

I stood on the podium, the day had finished with a stream of cruelly words.

I was victorious.

Sneak Peek 5 : The Circus in Me, by S.M. Bjarnson

From the main male character's perspective: Briggs

Captivated as my being allowed, I disguised how absolutely incarcerated my feelings went for her. She was the most unordinary gal, I ever touched.
Our walk brought us to the corners of where I once spent helpless nights strolling the sidewalks alone. How I made my way to her very dorm that night, though I saw her through the window seating solo on the Friday night mixer.
In perfect unison our feet stepped along the depths of puddles. With her the night glowed less hollow and dim. I told her my apartment was close, making deceiving comments along the way. It was farther away from her home than she would stroll. Appeared on her doorstep soaked to the bone in October mist.
Reaching out for her I cringe, letting control lose its way. I shook in the silence of my soul, she struck me as a mirage of sorts. Roomates abandoned the household. Twerking off to some wannabe jerks. Trae Lae didn't even know what that was; maybe I could show her. If they knew how jerkish a real man could be, oh how they would run and cry. For the girls who liked to be pushed around, they’d come back for much more. A rather awful growl came up in my teeth. I clenched onto it to use for better executions later that night. Her skin in amazing glow. The thought of her never being touched began to make the carnivore in me unbearable to tame any longer.  

S.M. Bjarnson

Inspiring Quotes for us Writers!

"Believe in yourself and in your own voice, because there will be
times in this business when you will be the only one who does. Take
heart from the knowledge that an author with a strong voice will
often have trouble at the start of his or her career because strong,
distinctive voices sometimes make editors nervous. But in the end,
only the strong survive."

- Jayne Ann Krentz

"I've got a folder full of rejection slips that I keep. Know why? Because those same editors are now calling my agent hoping I'll write a book or novella for them. Things change. A rejection slip today might mean a frantic call to your agent in six months."

- MaryJanice Davidson 

 "If you've FINISHED writing a novel you are amongst the elite!!! You ARE NOT A FAILURE IF YOU CANNOT LIVE OFF YOUR BOOKS. You only fail by NOT TRYING."

- Nadia Cornier

"This is for writers yet to be published who think the uphill climb will never end. Keep believing. This is also for published writers grown jaded by the process. Remember how lucky you are."

- Terry Brooks

"You must keep sending work out; you must never let a manuscript do nothing but eat its head off in a drawer. You send that work out again and again, while you're working on another one. If you have talent, you will receive some measure of success - but only if you persist."

- Isaac Asimov

"Dig until you hit rock. Then take out that jackhammer and go a little deeper."

- Allison Brennan

"The heights by great men reached and kept were not obtained by sudden flight. But they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night."

- Thomas S. Monson

"It's never too late to be what you might have been."

- George Eliot

“If you are hungry, you should eat. If there is a hunger
in your soul, you must dream.

- unknown

http://www.writeattitude.net/quotes.php

The Whispers in the Walls, by, S.M. Bjarnson

They heard my cries, but did they whisper to one another about my pains, my belonged sorrows of fear. There I stood upon which I would call shivering waves of tempting tides of love and hate; both exotic and fundamentally underdeveloped to the extent they can become. Much is known about the things I wish to share with you; here I am lying in a bed of memories.

The only ones I have of you.

I pull fragments of each second I got to spend with you, the touches underneath each breath I was able to take around you. The one that always seems to live on inside my darkest corner, the way you didn’t kiss me or thrill the premonition I had always wished for, between me and you.

Bloody mirrors, paint the way of what honestly could have been, definitely still could be. I fear, as many times before me in making a choice. To taking that chance, here I will live with you, always in an infatuating romance of love and desire.

Those are things you always wish for, times you go back to.

Recalling memories you always wish to step through and become again. Relive the fantasy of living in such a moment of you and I. If I cover my eyes will you become the person I have longed for and so desired? Will we speak of unending times of running away to once lived romance, to somewhere alive inside of us?

Blindness covers me and still you make me keel over in a torture pain in my gut, I have to see you. The rush of what could be secretly wants me to let it take over, devour every good intention I ever existed in. But, it would never work. Things such as fantasy never seem too, so I’ll live out my last desires with you, upon this wrinkled page of thoughts and somewhat begot feelings; I once loved to reminisce in.

Now I am searching for a destiny, a reality that I don’t have to keep putting in quarters in the slot machine to live over, again, and again. You’d be there right alongside of each nightmare, holding my touch with such fragrant fiction that you would kiss away any pain I had in me, I loved you, then and there in the twilight of my dreams. You were always there in the back of my pocket, waiting to become reacquainted with my imagination.

I will take you anywhere you want, my dreams are fading and suddenly I want more out of you, the more I had not really ever gotten the chance to be a part of. Looking back upon everything I had, everything I wanted to have with you, with myself, I am sick with envy. Most of us, wishing to live as we did, in the moment of times we can remember.

I wish for, I live everyday to be that way. Living in each memory as if I will remember them all, because they are all that elastically brilliant to you, to me.

Truly that is really the only place you have ever really, breathed a free atmosphere, inside of my own free atmosphere, in the world of imagination. Creative spurts of happiness overflow to your part of the haven I have given up to you.

My time spent fantasizing about what could-be, I want to touch basis with hormones, undiscovered.

In the end, we are just like that a faded memory made up into a story created by a lust, or desire I am not being fulfilled by, an hour of your time and here I stand oblivious to reality. Maybe, I never wanted it to be true.  Dreaming on an open dream. Wish, a little?

-S.M. Bjarnson

I hope you all are enjoying the short stories I have been posting, please feel free to comment and talk amongst the fellow readers, we are all living a storyline.

Circus in Me, S.M. Bjarnson

Super excited!!!! Here is a sneak peek of my new upcoming novel! The Circus in Me, due out January 2014, finishing touches, in the works!

Have a happy Thanksgiving or you're own holiday celebration!!

-S.M. Bjarnson