Series

Serialized Storytelling
I have always loved reading. From a young age, I would spend countless hours buried underneath a blanket with some sort of novel in my hand. From fantasy to nonfiction, I fell in love with each one. One of the genres that I was not much of a fan of growing up was comic books. Though I loved drawing, comics seemed like a cop-out to me. Rather than allowing your imagination to run wild, I felt constricted by the artist's interpretations of the characters I knew and loved so much. But, as people grow, so does their understanding of the world, and it was in the smallest moment that I fell in love with comic books.
By Robin Laurinec5 years ago in Fiction
Poems and Prose
- Imagine - *** Imagine a man with a cadaverous visage jittering and clocking to a self-imagined rhythm and beat before swaying to the concrete, slackened jaw, tongue out, eyes rolled back.
By CynicalPepper5 years ago in Fiction
Just Let Me Die Here (A Serialized Novel) 17
After an hour in the First Aid Clinic, I am finally allowed to leave. Dr. Strange is still a bit concerned about a concussion and sends me off with stern warning that if my head ache increases at all, or I feel dizzy or faint, I am to go to the hospital immediately. My arm is in a sling and the pain is still exceeding the pain killers that the German nurse gave me, but I don’t care. I have to get back to my family. I still can’t reach Tucker on his mobile. I try to assure myself that it’s probably just dead again. He must have left his charger back in the room. He is probably very worried about where I am.
By Megan Clancy5 years ago in Fiction
THE SPORTS GUY CHRONICLES
Chapter One: Meet "THE SPORTS GUY" Hello, I am "THE SPORTS GUY". Obviously, as "THE SPORTS GUY, I, of all people KNOW my sports stuff. Ever since after my third year of college athletics, I have been a freelance sportswriter. That mostly means that I have complete control of my own time. That is right youth, I have ALL day, 7 days a week to do whatever I want. Well, if you have ever met me, or read any of my stuff, then you would know what I love to do most. SPORTS. COMPETITION. GREATNESS. The one sport that I LOVE most is basketball, when I became aged 15, I had to decide which ONE sport I would DOMINATE, and I chose basketball. 15 is a typical age for a multi-sport athlete to choose one sport (at least trim down to 2 or 3 sports). It is just a part of life. To be great you must focus, not to mention high school athletics and beyond become VERY DEMANDING of elite athletes. Trimming down on sports can be an important safety precaution for an athlete who wishes to have a long successful career. After all, MOST pro athletes only play one professional sport. (Pay close attention to the word most. That does not mean ALL, professionals play only one sport. There have been special athletes that could play two and even THREE professional sports in their athletic careers.)
By Elijah Davis5 years ago in Fiction
In the Arms of Morpheus
Fresh rain pooled in the broken crevasse of the old brick walkway. The morning doves sang their song above from the newly established power lines. In the distant one of the many trollies of the city squelched out their miserable horn. The bustle of the city's streets echoed down the thin corridor. Though the sun was out, positioning of buildings shadowed the small brass door, the only true illumination would beam from the neon glow of an “open” sign. On the door, neatly pressed in, was the nameplate: J. Edward Liveon, Private Eye.
By RW Hughes5 years ago in Fiction
Just Let Me Die Here (A Serialized Novel) 16
The two ski patrolmen guide me all the way to the bottom of the mountain and across to the buildings of the ski resort. When they reach the walkway, they remove their skis and carry me, still strapped to the stretcher, the short way across the open space, to the First Aid Clinic. I turn my head as far as the brace will let me as we pass the lodge in hopes that I might see Tucker. He and Millie could be sitting out on the deck and I’d have one of the medics get his attention. But I don’t see them. Probably keeping warm inside.
By Megan Clancy5 years ago in Fiction
No Ferry Today (Part 3)
Previously in Part 2 Monique started cleaning up the dishes and the grill after Margo left the cafe with Devin, Melvin and Junior. She had resisted the urge to run down to the beach and see them off. It felt to her as if doing so would reinforce the feeling that she'd said goodbye to them forever.
By Paula Shablo5 years ago in Fiction
No Ferry Today (Part 2)
Previously in Part 1 They’d eaten surprisingly well, Margo thought, for people who were worried. And that they were worried was not in doubt.
By Paula Shablo5 years ago in Fiction
No Ferry Today (Part 1)
“The bar was supposed to open at noon—where is Duncan?” Margo hadn’t gone back to the mainland the night before. The warm summer breezes had beckoned her throughout the workday until she decided to take a blanket down to the beach and sleep on the sand. Her friend Monique had joined her at the last minute; she had a house further inland on the little isle, but she, too, had been tempted by the breeze coming in off the ocean.
By Paula Shablo5 years ago in Fiction
1,000 Reasons To Never Care (Series 1)
The prom was two weeks away and the people of Seashore bay was preparing for the big night. The guys were asking the girls out and the girls were busy helping out with the gym, wondering who would be the lucky guy to escort them. I on the other hand was sitting in the bleachers listening to Billie Eilish while watching the jocks and cheerleaders practice. I really didn´t care for prom I didn´t see any point in it and plus I would never be a guys choice in a million years. Well I was once, but unfortunately that fairy tale ended up being ruined, there was never a happy ending for me so I decided to live with that. So here I present to you ¨1,000 Reasons To Never Care¨written and explained by your number one girl Me, Ever Paisley.
By EssyV5 years ago in Fiction
Find Me
Scenery mirrors on the passing vehicles and warps to the curvature of their frame, while lines of morning sunlight sneak through the gaps between buildings and trees. She leans into the car door with her chin in her palm, eyes squinting when the light plays peek-a-boo as her mother drives her to school. Her eyelashes catch her black bangs that lay down over her forehead as she deflects the suns rays that catch her green eyes gaze. 'Another new school, great.' She rolls her eyes as this thought crosses her mind. 'It's just another set of people who will immediately decide that I'm not worth anything, except to tease for their amusement of course.' She took a deep breath.
By Clarity Poole5 years ago in Fiction
The Suffering
Are they serious? They can’t honestly be serious. After everything the old bag put Ayla and I through, she still had literally no one else to even come clean up her stupid house. Why did she collect so many different things? Cows. Elephants. Hummingbirds. Spoons. Wolves. Figurines, wall art and of course some more figurines – most of which are made from something extremely breakable. The spoons might have some value; the collection is huge and some of the spoons are quite old. Do people still collect things? I can’t remember the last time I can think of anyone with collections of things. I guess all things are part of a collection of sorts – all your stuff is stuff you’ve collected and accumulated along your life. So, what causes someone to then micro-collect so many different things?? Who is going to want to buy 300 porcelain, glass and ceramic animals that literally have nothing in common with each-other?
By Sarah MacKenzie5 years ago in Fiction