• 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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    March 2010
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    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

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Stephen of Scarborough (Part Nineteen)

Marion stared at me, her mouth agape, “Stephen?”

“What’s this?  No hello kiss for your brother?”

Marion shook her head and crossed her arms, “I see you haven’t changed.  This isn’t a game Stephen, if Father knew you were…”

“Father won’t know, at least for now.”  I glanced at the small flute in her hand, “Mother’s flute?  She gave it to you then?  When?”

Marion lowered her head, clutching the flute and holding it close, “When she died.”

I stepped back in shock.  My chest suddenly grew tight and I gasped out, “When?”

“Last winter.  Oh Stephen!  I wanted to write and tell you, but Father forbade it.  Stephen,” She looked up at me, tears filling her eyes.  “I…I missed you so much.  I can’t tell you how many times I prayed for you to return!”  She ran into my arms and we embraced.  I held her close, just as I had done so often as we grew up together.  Memories of years gone by flashed through my mind in that moment.  Marion and I, we had been so close, always there when the other needed to share their troubles.  I had taught her to do so many things our mother deemed, unlady-like, but she never interfered in our fun.  I swallowed as tears of my own threaten to show themselves.

“I’ve missed you as well Marion,” I whispered.

“Oh… Um… Am I interrupting something?”  I turned to see William straddling the balcony.

“Will, this is my sister, Marion.  Marion, this is our cousin, William Schakelock of Scarborough.” 

“Distant cousin,” William added, stepping fully into the balcony.  “Not first, more…”

“Marion,” I interrupted.  William glared at me.  “If Father is still estrange to me then Will and I can’t stay here.  I need to know, has father finally…” I paused, chewing on the next word.  “For… Forgiven me?”

“You’ve been in Scarborough this whole time?”  Marion looked at me then William.

“Marion, please.”

Marion sighed, “You’ve been away a long time Stephen.  When you left…”

“I didn’t leave Marion, I was forced out.”

“Stephen, because of… of, your conduct, the reason for you outlaw sentence, there have been debts accumulating, debts caused by you that had to be paid.  Over the years thier interest has grown, becoming so great that Father… Father is going bankrupt.”

“Bankrupt!”  I clenched my fists.  “Who is collecting these debts?”

“You don’t need to know Stephen.”

“Marion.  Who?”

Marion bit her lip, I waited for her to reply.  Finally she answered, “Roger de Lacy.”

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  1. Nairam

     /  April 2, 2010

    Cool! This is interesting. 🙂

  2. Daniel

     /  April 10, 2010

    intriguing.. as usual. 🙂

    • storygirl308

       /  April 10, 2010

      Glad you think so. 🙂 I really like how that one turned out.


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