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Debra D. Sawyer

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Member Since: Apr, 2006

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Concrete Roses
by Debra D. Sawyer  Rayana Owens, Kenyona Williams, Tesia Taylor, Christina Cruse, Judith Egerton, Suzann DaCosta, Janetta Jagroop, Sade Bradshaw, Shateara Hebron, Kia Milton, Erica Shuford, Maria Williams, Brittney Davis & Araya Knight 

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Books by Debra D. Sawyer
· Lady Ingenuity Special Breast Cancer Issue
· Lady Ingenuity February 2008 Issue
· Lady Ingenuity Nov/Dec Issue
· Catching The Wind
· Assumption
                >> View all

Category: 

Young Adult/Teen

Publisher:  DiaShah Press LLC ISBN-10:  0976120755 Type: 
Pages: 

188

Copyright:  June 2007
Non-Fiction

THE GROUP "JUST US" are the first all female group of writers, selected
for youth publishing sponsorship by Novelist, Debra D. Sawyer.

This diverse group of young women have gone into publication and their book entitled: CONCRETE ROSES has released and you may now order an authographed copy by clicking on the link on either the Authors Den link or by using your credit or debit card by visiting: www.paypal.com (account: diashahpress@yahoo.com.

PURCHASE YOUR AUTOGRAPHED COPY TODAY!

Barnes & Noble.com
DiaShah Press LLC
debradsawyer.info

An Excerpt "SUMMER TIME" I had grown up too soon and my life seemed as if I was chasing after it. I had been raped last summer. It took for Mrs. Debra to come to me with an offer to write a book about pain and struggle for me to have the guts to tell you all this. I was fifteen years old living in California when it happened. The man who invaded me was almost thirty years of age and I knew him for about a year. I had met him at my best friend’s party. He found out that I was interested in music and used that to gain my trust. At the time I had no idea of his age. My friends and I had never thought to ask. We were all around the same age and he looked the part. After the party I would only see him every now and then. I would wave and keep going. One day, me and some friends went to the movies and he happpened to be there. As the movie was over, he stopped me and said that he remembered that I had an interest in music. He said he had a track that he wanted me to sing on and I was all for it. After all, I wanted to get in the studio. So, I told him that he had to ask my mother, she had come to the movies with us. I introduced him to my mother and she asked him to go to the house to talk with my dad. He didn’t have anything to do so he said why not. We entered the house and sat down to talk with my dad. I remember my dad specifically mentioning that he didn’t want me to get hurt and that he knows how people in the music business would get over on young girls. The man then agreed that nothing would happen to me. Days, weeks had passed and I hadn’t heard from him. I called his phone and he kept making excuses about him not being able to contact his friend with the studio. Then, he changed the subject and started telling me that I could always call him for anything and that if I wanted to get out of the house I could call him. He said it as if he were trying to be a big brother to me. Tired of excuses, I stopped calling and didn’t hear from him anymore. It was a week before I moved when I had seen him again. I had friends from Japan come to visit and they were staying with us for the summer while I was almost out of school. My friends and I decided to go to the mall to hang out before I had to leave and my one friend from Japan had came along with us. As I was walking through the mall I ran into him. He was with a real familiar man that went to my church and a man I had never met before. I said hi to him and got my mom’s attention. She came over and said hi to him and continued to shop. He kept mentioning that he was sad that we weren’t able to get into the studio together and that we didn’t get to hang out. At that point, it was just me and my friend from Japan. She whispered in my ear telling me that she thought his friend was cute. I warned her that he was twenty-six years old. I remember because he told one of the adults, at church his age. When I told her she acted as if it didn’t bother her or she just didn’t hear me. I didn’t really pay it much mind but she was serious. Soon after, “Music Man” had brought up the option of going to the movies. It wasn’t too late and he wanted to hang out with his “little sister”, I guess, before I left. We had agreed and went our separate ways. Before I knew it, it was past the time for us to go to the movies; we had stayed at the mall for too long. When my “Japan friend” and I got back to my house I went to my room and fell asleep. She came into my room about two hours after we had gotten home. She had been talking on the phone with the man that went to my church. She had gotten his number from Music Man. She woke me up and said she wanted to sneak out. I had never snuck out my house before and I wasn’t ready to do it then. I told her no and rolled back over. I started felling guilty about saying no to her and changed my mind. We snuck out and Music Man had picked us up and we went to his friend's house. I was so scared and nervous that I didn’t say anything during the ride. When we arrived at his friend's house, I sat in the living room. I couldn’t believe that I had just snuck out.... TO PURCHASE A SIGNED COPY OF "CONCRETE ROSES" VISIT: WWW.PAYPAL.COM (for DIASHAHPRESS.yahoo.com). Credit and Debit cards are accepted. Additional 5% sales tax and shipping fees must be applied.              


Excerpt

BONES

Bones are left after deterioration is done eating itself. Some folks burn their bones; some folks hide them under beds, in the closet, in boxes with lids taped up and stacked upon high shelves, pushed all the way into a dark corner. Some folks bring bones in order to take other folks bones to an unauthorized location and they spread them carelessly around; leaving pieces of that person scattered about in a place they never wanted to be. Some folks take their bones into the work place where they can use them as weapons to drop upon the heads of those they are trying to micro-manage because they are miserable and need some company. Some folks spend time digging up old bones; typically this happens when success or happiness is being born.

Our children are carrying around their bones inside of their souls…because they cannot bury them, drop them off, give them to mom or dad, grandma or grandpa, aunt or uncle or stick them in a safe place in their room….because there is a shortage of non-judgmental human beings.

You see the world is full of those “politcally correct” over zealous judges of others, with their interpretation of who and what God is. They spend their days pointing fingers, making comparisons, quoting scripture, all the while they lie to themselves, looking over their shoulders, hoping that no one else can see their past, each day pretending to have no hidden bones of their own, all the while claiming to be pure in heart as they systematically demean other human beings.

LET HE/SHE WHO IS WITHOUT SIN….CAST THE FIRST STONE!

This book is a burial ground for all of the children carry-ing around bones that often belong to adults that at-tempted but failed to kill their spirit, their person, their self image, their humanity and right to live a happy life.

This book is scared ground not to be disturbed. It is the truth,the pain, the joy, the bones that our children carry.

I am for the children first; they can come dirty, clean, hungry, hurt, scarred, damaged, happy, sad or confused. They know that they can come anytime to drop off what they cannot carry. Writing is a healing tool that allows us to “SEE and HEAR” what we often do not when spoken. Writing allows us to look back in order to move forward. It has a table of contents with chapters that can be re-written, over time. It allows us to write our story and to insert happy endings, if we choose to.

I thank all of the parents, guardians, and those who supported the young women on this project for your written blessing and for allowing your child the opportunity to discard their pain and to share it with others who may be dealing with the same issues. Your blessing will carry over into the lives of the readers.

LET HE/SHE WHO IS WITOUT SIN

CAST THE FIRST STONE….


ROSES I LOVE YOU ALL. THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR STORIES, YOUR TRUTH, YOUR FICTION, YOUR MINDS AND YOUR PAIN.

REMEMBER EVEN DURING THE STORM, THE SUN IS STILL SHINING BEHIND THE CLOUDS AND DESPITE IGNORANT HUMANS, GOD LOVES YOU TOO.

DARE TO BE DIFFERENT!

FAITH, COURAGE AND WISDOM, IT’S INSIDE OF YOU.




DEAR SHE:

Close your eyes for just a moment
There
In the quiet

Your quiet, LISTEN to your SILENCE,
SILENCE, SILENCE. It is there that you roam.

Look inside the place where she laughs with her head tilted back and her mouth wide open.

Her voice sending birds of JOY souring
into the clouds.

Close your eyes daughter……for just a moment….Let

The pain ride upon your beautiful SMILE……GO AHEAD….SMILE

LOOK AT YOUR SMILE……Smile FOR YOU.

Close your eyes little sister for just a moment wrap your arms around yourself. Hug yourself and CRY HARD; CLEANSE YOUR MIND

LET THE PAIN DROP DOWN AND AWAY FROM YOU…

Do not let others DEFINE or LABEL YOU.

Do not let their words slice away at YOUR BEAUTY.

Who Am I you ask? I am not a counselor, trained with books in the study of the mind, who will render an opinion. I am not a God to be worshiped. I am not a PROMISE or the Cure. What I am is FAMILIAR but no longer a Victim of others. I do not have all of the answers, but I have some. You asked me, where does one begin when one feels near the end?

GO BACK TO YOUR MIDDLE. IT IS THERE THAT YOU CAN RE-EVALUATE.

GATHER UP YOUR PAIN, PLACE IT INTO YOUR MIDDLE, WRAP IT UP IN THAT PRETTY PAPER, GO TO YOUR HEART, WHERE PAIN AND SELFLESSNESS OFTEN TAKES UP RESIDENCY. OPEN THE DOOR, PLACE THE PACKAGE OUTSIDE, KICK IT, HARD, WATCH IT TUMBLE AND FALL…AWAY. IT IS BAGGAGE THAT HAS BECOME TOO HEAVY AND UNNECESSARY FOR YOU TO CARRY.

I AM NOT A TEACHER, A COUNSELOR, A DOCTOR. I AM FAMILIAR.

CLEAN YOUR HOUSE. IT’S TIME TO MOVE ONTO SOMETHING BETTER.

Change course, only you can decide what it is and who it is that will be IN or OUT of this thing called YOUR LIFE.

IT IS MY HOPE THAT YOU WILL FIND YOUR WAY….IN THE MEANTIME….YOU ARE NOT ALONE AND WHEN YOU FEEL ALONE REMEMBER THE POWER IN YOUR PEN.

WRITE!

Peace Shall Be Still for you all “Little Sisters”

Spiritually yours,

Ms. Sawyer



"MENTORS MAKING IT HAPPEN" MOVEMENT.





Professional Reviews

CONCRETE ROSES
A moving and truthful anthology written by young women.


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Reader Reviews for "Concrete Roses"

Reviewed by Gloria Lynn 12/18/2007
This book touches the core of your soul. These are the writings of a special and extraordinary group of young women. Yes, they have seen some things, been through some things but yet Still They Rise!


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