• The Writer


    Hello! My name is Laura, welcome to my blog! I write weird stories, collect dragon plushies and stay up too late with my nose in a book. I am a wife, mom and child saved by grace. My hope is that you find encouragement here or at least a smile or too.
    God bless!

  • “Now go, write it before them in a table, and note it in a book that it may be for the time to come forever and ever.”
    ~Isaiah 30:8.

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  • Quotes

    We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. Indeed only by myth-making, only by becoming 'sub-creator' and inventing stories, can Man aspire to the state of perfection that he knew before the Fall. Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily towards the true harbour, while materialistic 'progress' leads only to a yawning abyss and the Iron Crown of the power of evil.
    ~J.R.R. Tolkien

    "The only just literary critic," he concluded, "is Christ, who admires more than does any man the gifts He Himself has bestowed."
    ~J.R.R. Tolkien

    “Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?. . .If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we're partisans of liberty, then it's our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!”
    ~J.R.R. Tolkien

    "Writers who see by the light of their Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eye for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable. To the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind you draw large and startling figures."
    ~Flannery O'Connor

    You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what’s burning inside you. And we edit to let the fire show through the smoke.
    ~Arthur Polotnik

    Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.
    ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

    "There are forms of insanity that condemn people to hear voices against their will, but as writers we invite ourselves to hear voices without relinquishing our hold on reality or our right to control."
    ~Writing Fiction by Janet Burroway

    Christians have sometimes been suspicious of stories, because they really can influence you. If you read the Twilight novels once a month for a year, I think you'd be a different human afterward—and not a sparkly one.
    ~Nate Wilson

Stephen of Scarborough (Part Seven)

I crossed my arms and moved my weight from one foot to the other. The air in the Great Hall was stifling, and the noise was worse. Sitting packed in, eating like greedy dogs around the long wooden tables, sat the nobles of Scarborough and the surrounding shire. I could feel sweat trickling down my back under my mail shirt. I glanced at the large double doors at the end of the Hall, wishing I was striding through them, away from the noisy throng and hot room. William leaned over, moving closer to me,
“It shouldn’t last too long,” he said, nearly yelling in my ear just to be heard.
I turned towards him and shook my head, “This is a celebratory feast of nobles. It will last as long as the wine does.”
William shrugged and resumed his soldier’s stance. I tried to block the thunderous voices by concentrating on the tip of my boots. Focusing on how the polished leather reflected the torchlight, or how the reflected light would bend when I wiggled my toes, creasing the leather.
“Long live King Richard! And long may he reign!” came a call from across the Hall. Others took up the cheer shouting “Hear, hear!” and raising their goblets. I rolled my eyes, so what if Richard, Duke of Aquitaine had been crowned King of England today? He was just another Norman, he didn’t even speak English! I looked out across the room, every face was beaming and exuberant… except one. A fat man sat near the end of the left hand table, his face was livid on one side where flames had grazed his skin and his expression was one of suppressed anger. The Jailer! What was he doing here?! He looked at me, recognition brightening his eyes. I gazed back, dread quickening my heart. He rose and began to hurriedly make his way to the font of the table where the Sheriff sat. I didn’t wait a second longer, I bolted for the stair that ran up to a balcony overlooking the Hall.
“Stop him!” The Jailer cried. “Stop him!” The noise of conversation suddenly came to an end as the Jailer continued his cry and everyone turned my way. I bounded up the stairs taking them three at a time. I reached the top and readied to race through the doorway, but first, I glanced over my shoulder. William was running after me, sword in hand, and five additional castle guards behind him.

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1 Comment

  1. Daniel

     /  November 4, 2009

    AHHH!!! *begs for more* That is soo good!!

    Reply

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