• 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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    June 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-Three)

SNAP!  I winced as the sound echoed through the forest.  I turned to look at William who walked behind me.  He grinned sheepishly,


Sighing I continued to scan the forest floor.  Every so often I’d come across an ash or cedar stick with good length and width.  These I gathered, stowing them under my arm as we walked.  They would make good arrows.  Ash was strong and durable, but heavy, making the arrow slow.  Cedar was light and swift.  I would need both. 

“You sure you’re going the right way?”  William asked after a while of walking in silence.

“Yes.  I’d know the path even if my eye were blindfolded,” I paused, shifting my gaze from tree to tree.  A smile played at the corners of my mouth, “We’re nearly there.”

I began to walk faster, excitement building a loose knot inside my stomach.  Memories came flooding back with each step.  Thomas, Roy, Geoffrey, Peter, Simon and myself.  All our youthful escapades, we had known this forest so well, the six of us.  Every in and out, every hidden stream bed and tree hollow.  We were invincible then, doing whatever we pleased.  I shook my head; that had been the beginning of my disgrace, though I couldn’t see it then.  We had played the part of outlaws, and now, I was an outlaw. 

Taking a deep breath I pushed the memories aside, concentrating on the ground ahead. 

“We need to be careful from this point on,” I said over my shoulder to William.  “The way becomes tricky just up ahead.  You’ll need to watch your footing, don’t want to fall and break your neck.”

“Fall and break my neck?” William asked.  “We’re in the middle of the forest Stephen!  There’s no place to…”

I disappeared downward, “Mind the gap!”  I waited, finally William peak over the edge of the cliff. 

“By all… What is this?”  William’s eyes were wide with surprise and curiosity.  I laughed, it must have been a sight, to watch me suddenly disappear, then seeing me perched on a thin, rock made pathway leading down an earthen wall into the depths of the forest below.

“Welcome to Ludchurch,” I said grinning.  “You can ride or walk past without ever seeing it, which makes it the perfect hideaway.”  And so it was, Ludchurch, or as some called it, Lud’s Church, was nothing but cavernous recesses, spanning nearly a courter of a mile.  Its depth and width provided shelter and protection to those who sought it. 

I breathed in the damp air as I led William down the precarious path.  I had forgotten how moist and cool it was down here.  I didn’t mind, it was fresh, quiet, and best of all, concealed.

“We can stay here, few people have ever seen it and fewer know of its existence.  We’ll be safe.”

“Safe from what?”

I stopped, “We’ll soon find out.”

Leave a comment

1 Comment

  1. Daniel

     /  July 3, 2010

    gah.. its not polite to end like that, Laura.


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