S.M. Bjarnson's Blog, page 13
April 22, 2014
Whispers of the Wall, 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
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
April 21, 2014
Creating Healthy Writing Habits, by Balboa Press
CREATING HEALTHY WRITING HABITS“The habit of doing more than is necessary can only be earned through practice.”― Seth Godinby Balboa Press
Writing a book is a big goal. To reach the point where you have a fully prepared manuscript that’s ready for publication, there are many smaller, less exciting goals you’ll have to achieve along the way. From collecting materials and meeting word-count goals, to organizing chapters and editing every sentence — there’s much to be done. Because it’s so easy to get overwhelmed by the process, it’s important that you take action and stay focused to ensure that your dream of writing a book isn't only a dream.Being a writer is a lifestyle choice. So, in order to be a successful writer, you need to incorporate writing as an integral part of your daily life. Make writing a habit, and you’ll be on your way to achieving whatever writing goals you set for yourself.Many writers approach their writing schedules in different ways. Some keep to strictly scheduled writing sessions while others simply wait for inspiration to strike. A simple way to become a productive writer with good writing habits is to commit yourself to writing at least one sentence every day. Here’s why:You’ll benefit from the power of practiceThe key to succeeding in your writing is the same as the key to reaching mastery in any activity: practice. The more consistently you write, the more natural it will become to you. Once you’ve established a daily habit of writing, you’ll be on your way to a more creative, productive lifestyle that you won’t want to give up.You’ll stay connected to your workWhen you go long stretches without working on your book, it can be easy to lose focus and produce writing that feels choppy and disconnected. By sitting down to work at least a little every day, it will be easy to get right back into your writing zone. All of your research, ideas and chains of thought will always be fresh in your mind, and you’ll feel closer to your work.You’ll write with freedomOnce writing becomes a regular part of your life, you can approach each writing session with a more relaxed attitude. Because you trust that you’ll be right back at your computer the next day, you can start to take risks and experiment with new ideas in ways that you might not otherwise feel comfortable.You’ll open the floodgatesOn some days, that one sentence might be all you can deliver (and that’s okay). But on other days (most days) that one sentence will turn into much, much more. Once you simply take the step to sit down with your computer, open your work in progress, and begin typing, you never know how many words will flow from you onto the page.Regardless of how much work you get done during each writing session, you’ll be creating a daily writing habit that will pay off in the long run. Happy writing!
http://www.balboapress.com/WriterWisdom/Writing/WritingHabits.aspxI understand these concepts personally. I have not the numerous college degrees like many professed authors. But I practiced and practiced and I grew better and better. Everyday is a massive and annoying goal to keep but it so worth it in the end to know you are getting better even you realize the change. -S.M. Bjarnson
Writing a book is a big goal. To reach the point where you have a fully prepared manuscript that’s ready for publication, there are many smaller, less exciting goals you’ll have to achieve along the way. From collecting materials and meeting word-count goals, to organizing chapters and editing every sentence — there’s much to be done. Because it’s so easy to get overwhelmed by the process, it’s important that you take action and stay focused to ensure that your dream of writing a book isn't only a dream.Being a writer is a lifestyle choice. So, in order to be a successful writer, you need to incorporate writing as an integral part of your daily life. Make writing a habit, and you’ll be on your way to achieving whatever writing goals you set for yourself.Many writers approach their writing schedules in different ways. Some keep to strictly scheduled writing sessions while others simply wait for inspiration to strike. A simple way to become a productive writer with good writing habits is to commit yourself to writing at least one sentence every day. Here’s why:You’ll benefit from the power of practiceThe key to succeeding in your writing is the same as the key to reaching mastery in any activity: practice. The more consistently you write, the more natural it will become to you. Once you’ve established a daily habit of writing, you’ll be on your way to a more creative, productive lifestyle that you won’t want to give up.You’ll stay connected to your workWhen you go long stretches without working on your book, it can be easy to lose focus and produce writing that feels choppy and disconnected. By sitting down to work at least a little every day, it will be easy to get right back into your writing zone. All of your research, ideas and chains of thought will always be fresh in your mind, and you’ll feel closer to your work.You’ll write with freedomOnce writing becomes a regular part of your life, you can approach each writing session with a more relaxed attitude. Because you trust that you’ll be right back at your computer the next day, you can start to take risks and experiment with new ideas in ways that you might not otherwise feel comfortable.You’ll open the floodgatesOn some days, that one sentence might be all you can deliver (and that’s okay). But on other days (most days) that one sentence will turn into much, much more. Once you simply take the step to sit down with your computer, open your work in progress, and begin typing, you never know how many words will flow from you onto the page.Regardless of how much work you get done during each writing session, you’ll be creating a daily writing habit that will pay off in the long run. Happy writing!
http://www.balboapress.com/WriterWisdom/Writing/WritingHabits.aspxI understand these concepts personally. I have not the numerous college degrees like many professed authors. But I practiced and practiced and I grew better and better. Everyday is a massive and annoying goal to keep but it so worth it in the end to know you are getting better even you realize the change. -S.M. Bjarnson
April 20, 2014
Easter Decorating!
http://pureella.com/quick-easter-deco...
This website has really cool ideas of all sorts of personal Easter decor touches to your home!
April 19, 2014
Sneak Peek 7: The Circus in Me, by S.M. Bjarnson
“Will you take me back home?” We were blocks away from his car and I made it obvious I lacked motivation to converse. I wanted to be alone and peaceful.We made our way back through crosswalks and cars halting at our right of way. He walked a few steps behind me giving the solitary woman her liberating space.
We shuffled back to the apartment complex I saw a woman carrying in bags of groceries in one hand and a babe or two in the other. Her husband watching mediocre at the window smoking a cigar.
I didn’t understand this, don’t think I ever will. No recognition of the duty in myself the way a wife lived in service for her husband, the way my mother had done for my father. Raise the children he had placed into her, neglecting to do other than be a role of command.
S.M. Bjarnson
April 18, 2014
April 16, 2014
HOW TO MAKE THE MOST OF A WRITERS CONFERENCE by Balboa Press
HOW TO MAKE THE MOST OF A WRITERS CONFERENCEby Balboa Press
The Internet contains a plethora of valuable information about writing and publishing. Still, there is much to be gained from meeting other writers at a professional writers conference or convention. Think of attending conferences as an investment in your career, not a writing expense. In some cases, a conference admission price can be written off your taxes as a business expense. An author who has attended a conference before will likely tell you how much there is to learn and experience.Regardless of your writing experience, conferences and conventions offer a great deal of knowledge about the industry and involve people who are eager to help new authors and share their expertise. So what do you do first?Create a plan of attack:Memorize a short pitch. Before you attend any conference, know what you’re going to talk about when you run into an agent, publisher, or curious reader. Think of something brief that explains your work and the direction you’d like to take it. Most importantly, stay professional. Don’t let your excitement get the better of you.Bring a giveaway. Leaving fans with something physical to remember you by can greatly help your marketing effort. It can be as simple as fliers or BookStubs, which are gift cards that provide readers with a free copy of your e-book. Many authors hold drawings or raffles to give away a free copy of their book. Whatever you choose, find a way to stand out in a competitive marketplace.Talk with conference organizers. Some conferences allow authors to rent an area to sell and sign books. If you can do this, you’ll have a big advantage and a great opportunity to put a face to your name and work. These areas provide an easy way to meet and connect with fans (and maybe sell a few books, too). Registering for writer panels before the event is another great way to get your name out there and invite people to talk with you about your work or your field of expertise.You’ve prepared your plan and the day is upon you. What do you do first when arriving at the actual conference?Execute your plan:Get your manuscript critiqued by other writers. It may seem scary allowing others to critique your work but the professionals who attend these conferences are just that, professionals. Having your work combed through by someone who understands the in’s and out’s of the book industry will improve the way your book reads.Participate in writer panels. If you’ve never been on a panel before, attend a few and take notes. See what types of questions are asked and note how authors respond to fans (even to those with negative comments). Panels are a way for authors to learn from one another and share valuable experience. This is also a great way to learn about a new genre or style of writing.Network. Most importantly, expand your network. You will be surrounded by people in the publishing industry. The opportunity to gain new readers and create word-of-mouth marketing depends entirely on your ability to leave a favorable impression on the people you meet. Being social at these events can have a big impact.Writers conferences and conventions can be invaluable to any author. The chance to meet someone who will help you along your journey is worth the price of admission. If you plan your time at a writers conference wisely, it might be just what you need to boost your writing career to the next level.
http://www.balboapress.com/WriterWisdom/BookMarketing/WritersConference.aspx
I've never been to a writer's conference before but these are very good tips I will bring with me when I go! We should make a goal to go to at least 5 a year! Make impressions and create friendships!
The Internet contains a plethora of valuable information about writing and publishing. Still, there is much to be gained from meeting other writers at a professional writers conference or convention. Think of attending conferences as an investment in your career, not a writing expense. In some cases, a conference admission price can be written off your taxes as a business expense. An author who has attended a conference before will likely tell you how much there is to learn and experience.Regardless of your writing experience, conferences and conventions offer a great deal of knowledge about the industry and involve people who are eager to help new authors and share their expertise. So what do you do first?Create a plan of attack:Memorize a short pitch. Before you attend any conference, know what you’re going to talk about when you run into an agent, publisher, or curious reader. Think of something brief that explains your work and the direction you’d like to take it. Most importantly, stay professional. Don’t let your excitement get the better of you.Bring a giveaway. Leaving fans with something physical to remember you by can greatly help your marketing effort. It can be as simple as fliers or BookStubs, which are gift cards that provide readers with a free copy of your e-book. Many authors hold drawings or raffles to give away a free copy of their book. Whatever you choose, find a way to stand out in a competitive marketplace.Talk with conference organizers. Some conferences allow authors to rent an area to sell and sign books. If you can do this, you’ll have a big advantage and a great opportunity to put a face to your name and work. These areas provide an easy way to meet and connect with fans (and maybe sell a few books, too). Registering for writer panels before the event is another great way to get your name out there and invite people to talk with you about your work or your field of expertise.You’ve prepared your plan and the day is upon you. What do you do first when arriving at the actual conference?Execute your plan:Get your manuscript critiqued by other writers. It may seem scary allowing others to critique your work but the professionals who attend these conferences are just that, professionals. Having your work combed through by someone who understands the in’s and out’s of the book industry will improve the way your book reads.Participate in writer panels. If you’ve never been on a panel before, attend a few and take notes. See what types of questions are asked and note how authors respond to fans (even to those with negative comments). Panels are a way for authors to learn from one another and share valuable experience. This is also a great way to learn about a new genre or style of writing.Network. Most importantly, expand your network. You will be surrounded by people in the publishing industry. The opportunity to gain new readers and create word-of-mouth marketing depends entirely on your ability to leave a favorable impression on the people you meet. Being social at these events can have a big impact.Writers conferences and conventions can be invaluable to any author. The chance to meet someone who will help you along your journey is worth the price of admission. If you plan your time at a writers conference wisely, it might be just what you need to boost your writing career to the next level.
http://www.balboapress.com/WriterWisdom/BookMarketing/WritersConference.aspx
I've never been to a writer's conference before but these are very good tips I will bring with me when I go! We should make a goal to go to at least 5 a year! Make impressions and create friendships!
April 15, 2014
Acephalous, by S.M. Bjarnson
The rain never seized that day. The rain pitter pattered long beyond what anyone thought was possible for rain in this drought, I searched for answers as well as much of words as I possibly could. The fact was it wasn't the rain we feared so much but the after fact of it all. He woke in the sudden of the night, my son. Turning in circles in his little boy mind, searching for the answers no one seemed to give to us. But, there he was scouring the neighborhood and the outskirts of remote wire fencing, to let us know. You would turn a corner and you would turn right back around, there was no place for you if the found out about you. He awoke in a stutter of words and fears, communications of his kind were unbearable to most folk around these parts. We are salvaged beings commanding retribution to the commander who pities us senseless where we had gone before.
Chances are they weren't looking for us, chances are they were looking beyond us, for what we couldn't possibly bear. A new frontier that was already linked to us, in a way we were the way, but possibly more in the line of direct connections. I went searching for him, I rounded every corner if I would see him, knowing he would not be there. Frustration broke out, to panicked fear and an ongoing curriculum of doubt ran throughout my blood stream, at last I had spotted his hide away, in plain sight he stood, watching the beckoning war outside our own door front. He was calm letting me pick him up and chase away with him to a safety. Running home, flagrant bombs exploding around us, whose war was this again? No sound, but silent movie subtitles saying we are almost surviving. I held him so close and dear, his eyes wide open to all the explosions, he never once began to blink or tear down his barriers. We did have men on the inside, trying to detour all the bullets and ammo aimed our way, they were ombudsman, but the most good any of them had done was prolong the enchantment, they had not lasted long. Hung upside down by their feet in sycamore trees. Ornaments, of betrayal. They had come. Bursting through our doors, rampaging through our loose luggage. Animals, deviating by the storm. Taking the women, using them for their games, we were all recusant beings. His little bed, train tracks circled around it, books standing upright in all directions, I wanted so badly to lay him down to quiet my own fears of the night. But, we were boxed in; a small kitchen punctured 45 women and their babies to the white ceramic counter tops and floors. Who knows where the men had gone. Who knows if there were any left, anymore? We shuffled and bustled every which comfortable way we could afford too, Thomas Coy in my arms and I felt alone. I sat him down, he stood on my toes in front of me, and I couldn't help but to notice that none of these bodies around me were any I knew, were any I had ever known. I was trapped in a crowded room, my son and I were alone in, he knew the very same. We were the last ones to be pushed outside in a line, fire barrels burning bright around our corridor, and then he spoke to us. He called us by name in which we responded with lacuna eyes. The words were a heavy tone we once knew as children, he smiled and laughed engulfing our fear, along with our rage. His words somersaulted over each other as if it were a big charade. We were all going to die today. The dream came to me in the middle of the night, halting all relief for an escape. He ran from as children do. Like it was some sort of hide and seek game. Towers and barriers running in a maze we were all wondering where to go. He led the way and I played follow the young leader. I was fearful, even mortified if I lost this begotten son of mine. He saw no danger or death in his path, body after body they carried them away. His sight clear of all misfortune, his mind at ease from all troubling ailments ahead. It would be quite a while until I could tell him about the visions I began to have the night before the invasion. One day he will ask if I knew and it will require me to answer yes. He ran too fast in the dream, he was gone out of sight. He glanced back merely waving to me to hurry along, but I could not and arrived in a vacant field with no one in sight. He is gone my young son.Has he disappeared? Has he been taken by another? Or did I make his life a secret?
There is a belief that we have changed. That somewhere down the winding road we are capable of redirecting a new path for mankind. If that is to be accurate and true, why are we all suffering and damned? Was it yours or mine own fault?Did we cease to make a big enough impression on our thought patterns to change the outcome from yet another disaster?
There will be a time I am reminded when he will choose to come back to me, to see his mother as I truly am. To a time much better than this one is. To a world that is created far more mature than we may ever understand.
Until then I shall wait and watch as the sailors and soldiers tied to the bottoms of boats; drowning in such misery and despair they forget, no they convince themselves otherwise they indeed are dying from a natural substance; chaos.
S.M. Bjarnson
Chances are they weren't looking for us, chances are they were looking beyond us, for what we couldn't possibly bear. A new frontier that was already linked to us, in a way we were the way, but possibly more in the line of direct connections. I went searching for him, I rounded every corner if I would see him, knowing he would not be there. Frustration broke out, to panicked fear and an ongoing curriculum of doubt ran throughout my blood stream, at last I had spotted his hide away, in plain sight he stood, watching the beckoning war outside our own door front. He was calm letting me pick him up and chase away with him to a safety. Running home, flagrant bombs exploding around us, whose war was this again? No sound, but silent movie subtitles saying we are almost surviving. I held him so close and dear, his eyes wide open to all the explosions, he never once began to blink or tear down his barriers. We did have men on the inside, trying to detour all the bullets and ammo aimed our way, they were ombudsman, but the most good any of them had done was prolong the enchantment, they had not lasted long. Hung upside down by their feet in sycamore trees. Ornaments, of betrayal. They had come. Bursting through our doors, rampaging through our loose luggage. Animals, deviating by the storm. Taking the women, using them for their games, we were all recusant beings. His little bed, train tracks circled around it, books standing upright in all directions, I wanted so badly to lay him down to quiet my own fears of the night. But, we were boxed in; a small kitchen punctured 45 women and their babies to the white ceramic counter tops and floors. Who knows where the men had gone. Who knows if there were any left, anymore? We shuffled and bustled every which comfortable way we could afford too, Thomas Coy in my arms and I felt alone. I sat him down, he stood on my toes in front of me, and I couldn't help but to notice that none of these bodies around me were any I knew, were any I had ever known. I was trapped in a crowded room, my son and I were alone in, he knew the very same. We were the last ones to be pushed outside in a line, fire barrels burning bright around our corridor, and then he spoke to us. He called us by name in which we responded with lacuna eyes. The words were a heavy tone we once knew as children, he smiled and laughed engulfing our fear, along with our rage. His words somersaulted over each other as if it were a big charade. We were all going to die today. The dream came to me in the middle of the night, halting all relief for an escape. He ran from as children do. Like it was some sort of hide and seek game. Towers and barriers running in a maze we were all wondering where to go. He led the way and I played follow the young leader. I was fearful, even mortified if I lost this begotten son of mine. He saw no danger or death in his path, body after body they carried them away. His sight clear of all misfortune, his mind at ease from all troubling ailments ahead. It would be quite a while until I could tell him about the visions I began to have the night before the invasion. One day he will ask if I knew and it will require me to answer yes. He ran too fast in the dream, he was gone out of sight. He glanced back merely waving to me to hurry along, but I could not and arrived in a vacant field with no one in sight. He is gone my young son.Has he disappeared? Has he been taken by another? Or did I make his life a secret?
There is a belief that we have changed. That somewhere down the winding road we are capable of redirecting a new path for mankind. If that is to be accurate and true, why are we all suffering and damned? Was it yours or mine own fault?Did we cease to make a big enough impression on our thought patterns to change the outcome from yet another disaster?
There will be a time I am reminded when he will choose to come back to me, to see his mother as I truly am. To a time much better than this one is. To a world that is created far more mature than we may ever understand.
Until then I shall wait and watch as the sailors and soldiers tied to the bottoms of boats; drowning in such misery and despair they forget, no they convince themselves otherwise they indeed are dying from a natural substance; chaos.
S.M. Bjarnson
April 14, 2014
Indie Author Insider: Trisha Leigh: http://youtu.be/yEti7...
Indie Author Insider: Trisha Leigh: http://youtu.be/yEti7fcZCcU
My Life's Purpose is... by, S.M. Bjarnson
Let's being this Monday morning with a quote followed by instructions for an activity!
Dwell on this: My Life's Purpose is....?
S.M. Bjarnson
Your purpose is to know who you are, what gets you excited; I might even say that your purpose is to remember why you are here. We are here to learn, to grow, and express ourselves. I have a gift and contributions to make as well. Passion, comes from living your life on purpose. - Marcia WiederYou have read the quote and now you are thinking what in fact is my life's purpose? Am I a reader, a writer, a teacher? Any and all things you wish to be you have the right to become. I have decided in the days of my livelihood that I wish to obtain multiple certifications, as well as being known as a best-selling author. We all have little quirks and secret pleasures why not indulge in them you would your prominent career choice. You are accountable in life and if you are not happy doing what you perform daily than who is to blame for the sorrow and misadventure?
Dwell on this: My Life's Purpose is....?
S.M. Bjarnson
April 13, 2014
Scribble on Dollar Store Mugs
http://theberry.com/2012/07/23/show-o...Dollar Store mugs with sharpies then baked in the oven at 350 degrees for 30 minutes!
Can not wait to try this craft!
