The hallway seemed the length of a mile. Even though the walls of the trailer home were a mere 8ft tall, they towered and the white paint appeared as a shadow. At the end of the forbidding hall, the door to Solomon‘s mothers room- locked. Muffled sobs faintly echoed down the hallway, slowly penetrating the house with ominous intention. All of life’s desires seemed to fall from Solomons heart, one after another, until apathy became him.

Genre: Drama, Mystery, Psychological, Coming of age.

Page Count: 350

Author: S.J.Ransom

Why my project: Because people need a book that validates and relates to their experiences. They need a book that moves past the shame and isolation associated with these common dysfunctional early life experiences and instead moves to associate them with humanity and intimacy.

Target audience demographic: Any gender, 23-65yr,

Synopsis: Solomans life portrays the universal experience of growing up in a dysfunctional household and the fall out that ensues; family secrets, forgotten memories, hidden motives, mental instability, shame, worthlessness, strained relations, insecure attachments (to name a few).

Education: Current student

Experience :0-1 year

Bio: N/A

She cuts deeper than any last word in an argument

She feels like a room where a woman has delivered a stillborn

She looks like two lovers sitting on opposite sides of the same room

She taste like air on my tongue

She sounds deafening

She smells familiar…

She cuts deeper than any last word in an argument

She feels like a room where a woman has delivered a stillborn

She looks like two lovers sitting on opposite sides of the same room

She taste like air on my tongue

She sounds deafening

She smells familiar…

I don’t have a new and clever story. Just a familiar one in plain language.

Christ crucified and resurrected.

death defeated

the payment for my sin accepted

No matter how much doubt, resistance, anger, and skepticism, I feel at times towards God and His word. His word withstands it all, and I find that I’m the one being deconstructed…

Where’s the truth?

give me passion

When the issue gets to the root

The power becomes passive

It’s up in smoke with no gravity

just keep moving like nothings happening

Yes I’m upset with the system

Mad that I don’t have the power to make it different

Selfishness is a growing quality

The new ideal treats it as a commodity

Empty values behind the curtain

We’ve all been fooled I know for certain

Driven by greed and possibilities

Loosing the basic concept of civility

Stubborn hearts and hallow souls

Giving up every last bit of control

This force that forces you to live in front of a mirror with blinders on. Anything other than your own image is a blur. Other people’s very lives become your background, your lighting that you use to examine different aspects of your image. To exalt different aspects of your image, to filter different aspects of your image. For the portrayal of your image, to others.

where this leaves you

Unable to see the real picture

Unable to see the real picture because you have the wrong focus

all your left with is a stockpile of worthless frames that don’t tell the real story

Worthless frames, vacant memories . Because all youve ever seen is yourself

If nothing held firm for the length of an hour? If words fell into a void once spoken. If nothing could be depended on and goals turned into a giant shift board of alternate plans. Creating circular life instead of a line? Creating an congealed pile of potential energy that is wasted by its lack of form.