• 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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    April 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 Twenty)

“De Lacy? That old rogue is still Sheriff?”

Marion Nodded.

“So, father’s reliable friend has turned enemy has he?” I chuckled, “Wish you had listened to me now old man?”

“Stephen!” Marion glared at me. “Father may have made a mistake in trusting de Lacy, but he is still your father and as such warrants your respect.”

I looked at my sister, noticing for the first time how grown up she had become. No longer was she the shy little girl I had left behind. Here before me she stood, a young woman, strong willed and apparently, very opinionated.

“Marion’s right,” William said from behind me.

“Oh is she?” My pride was instantly aroused and I glared down my nose at William. He raised his eyebrows.

Marion frowned, “Maybe you should have stayed in Scarborough if all you can do here is let your pride master you common sense!” She crossed her arms, “Why are you here?”

“Um…” I cleared my throat a few times as I tried to think of the right words. “I ran into a bit of trouble and had to leave.”

I heard William snort, he tried to cover it up with a cough, but not before Marion noticed. Covering her mouth with her hand she began to laugh, softly at first, but soon her whole body was shaking with mirth, leaving me standing in bewilderment.

Finally she composed herself, “You… You just can’t quit can you? It doesn’t matter where you are…”

“Marion, please.”

She shook her head and repeated her last question, “Why are you here Stephen?”

“I need grandfather’s bow.”

“You came back just for an ancient Welsh bow?”

I sighed, “No, but now I may need it. I know grandfather willed it to me when he died…”

“And you certainly made use of it before.”


She looked up at me, her expression suddenly withdrawn. “I will get it for you. Wait here.” With that she turned and retreated into the manor.

“I didn’t know you’re mother’s kin were of Welsh blood.” William commented, taking a seat on the railing.

“My mother’s father was a Welsh nobleman.”

A moment of silence followed.

William cleared his throat, “When you told me of your sister, you never mentioned how…”

“Stubborn she could be?”

“Not exactly what I was thinking.”


“What do you plan to do?”

“I’m not fully sure,” I rubbed my chin and looked out at the fields surrounding Locksley. “But I have the makings of a plan.”

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1 Comment

  1. Daniel

     /  April 15, 2010

    *loves old Welsh bows* 😀


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