• 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 2019
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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

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Heart of Hope’s Draft III Beginning

I’m very excited about draft III of Heart of Hope so I had to share the first scene.  For those of you who have read drafts I and II, you’ll see that  HoH is finally growing up. 🙂

How had it come to this? Knees and hands in the dirt, her arm stinging from the strike of a whip, Avalyn watched the cart holding her mother roll away.
Tears streaking her face, Rhea gazed back.  Unable to raise her hand, bound to the cart she called out to her daughter,
“Stay free!”
Her cry was met with the back of a soldiers hand to her face.
“No!”  Avalyn pushed herself to her feet and ran after the cart.
“Stay clear.”  The mounted soldier holding the whip warned, but Avalyn didn’t care.
“Let her go!”  Avalyn reached for the cart.  The braided leather of the whip met her hand, wrapping it around her wrist.  Yanked away Avalyn once again found herself in the dirt of the road.
“I said stay back!”  The whip fell again.  As it fell across her back, Avalyn screamed.  It fell again, and again. Finally it stopped.
“Let that be a lesson to you not to mess in the affairs of the Lord Regent.”
The whip cracked over her head, echoing in her ears.  As she watched the soldiers and the cart disappear down the road Avalyn sobbed.  Her back throbbed and she felt warm blood beginning to soak her dress.  Tears blurred her vision, her sobs racking her body but it only mad the pain in her back worse.
She was suddenly aware of the people watching her.  Villagers gathered to observe the spectral.  She tried to rise to her feet and stumbled.  Someone caught her.
“Av,” Avalyn looked up into the face of her cousin, Esten.   “I’m sorry.”  His shaggy blond hair shadowing his brown eyes.  He placed her arm over his shoulder, supporting her weight.  She hung her head and let Esten carry her away.


Editing, Openings, and Snoopy

When you just can’t figure out a good opening…

326cdcb4d02ec72aba2b7087586f0078I have a novel that has been around for seven years.  Yup.  SEVEN YEARS.  I first wrote it when I was fifteen.  Then I rewrote. Then I rewrote it again…and again…and again… It’s labeled as being in it’s third draft in my documents folder, but really, it’s probably in it’s twentieth. (I just didn’t start keeping track of the drafts until later.)  This novel was my first, so it’s a bit special.  (Very special since I wrote it seven years ago and I’m still editing it… first books, what can I say.)  At least with each edit and rewrite it IS getting better…slowly

In all the years it’s been around, in all the edits and rewrites, I still can’t open the thing.  A good, grab you by the throat, opening still eludes me.  So, I’m finally going to try something I’ve done with other stories to jump start them. (Why I haven’t try it with this one yet… I really don’t know.)  Not actually start it at the beginning.  I’m going to pick a spot where events start getting interesting and write from there.  If there needs to be more back story I’ll figure out how to get it in there as I go along, if not, great!  If I need a different beginning, maybe just having the rewrite of the story started  will help clear up a perfect beginning.

I’ve heard of other writer’s doing this.  Even read that you should cut the first three chapters of a rough draft because more than likely you don’t need them.  So, I’m cutting them and starting somewhere else.  We’ll see if this works or not for me and this story.  Fingers crossed.

A Page a Day

I saw a picture on Facebook that read, “A page a day keeps insanity away”.  From a writer’s perspective, writing a page a day could very well keep insanity away, and it doesn’t even have to be a page of a novel.  Just anything.  A written page.  Everyday.

I know when I go a while without writing anything I can feel like going crazy!  I’ve left all these words, stories and characters trapped in my subconscious too long and they are screaming to get out! Also, I’ve learned the best cure for Writer’s Block is to just keep writing.  Anything.  As long as you’re putting words on paper.

This is one of my goals for the new year, to try and write at least a page of something a day.  Whether that’s a page of my most current novel, a page of outlining, a page of story notes, a page of free writing, or a page in some random story.  Just a page.  Everyday.

I know there will be days when I’m not going to have the chance or time to write a full page of something, but I’m going to try.   I think this is a good exercise for any writer to have.  Keeps you in writing.  Keeps you in practice.  I know from experience, the longer you go without writing, the harder it is to get back into it.  (Sometimes this is not the case, but most of the time it is.)

So, to combat writing laziness and keep working on my craft, I’m writing a page a day with a goal to keep it up as best as I can all year.  

What about you?

Heart of Hope Born Again

It’s happened.  My first novel Heart of Hope has been pulled off the shelf after almost three years of sitting.  I’ve blown off the dust and cracked open the pages and ever so slowly, new things are taking shape.

A few weeks ago my mind brought it up again, turning over ideas for changes, fixes for plot wholes I couldn’t figure out then.  It took a while, but Heart of Hope is finally growing up and maturing into something I can work with.  It’s going to be a different book when I’m done with it, but with the same people, same ideals, same places, and the same story.  (Same song different tune if you will.)

The plot has changed.  Two (soon to be three) characters have new names, and there’s a new twist in events.  I’m excited about it again. 🙂

I think I have my work cut out for me.  I’m sitting on Choices for a while, developing a new world, outlining/writing two stories set in that world, editing Heart of Hope again, and, working on an epic story with my husband.  Few!  Believe it or not, that’s how I keep myself writing, lots of projects at one time.  Keeps my mind in the writing mode. 😉  (Plus I get to world jump.  Who wouldn’t want to do that!)

There you have it, my latest writing update.

Until next time… may the Force be with you, stay out of the shadows, aim to misbehave and never meddle in the affairs of dragons.

The Beginning

Twelve likes and one comment… I guess I can go ahead and post that sneak peek. 😉


*     *     *



Still born.  Ephraim stared at the maid who held his son.  His dead son.

“My Lord…” She didn’t look Ephraim in the eye, but stood holding the still bundle of blood stained swaddling clothes concealing the boy.


The maid looked up.

“What’s wrong with Kathryn?”

A woman’s scream broke out from behind the drapes leading to the bed chamber.  The maid, still holding the lifeless child, hurried back into the room.  More cries and screams filled the chamber, then… the cry of a babe.  Ephraim pushed back the drapes and stepped into the room.  Kathryn, his wife, lay on the massive canopy bed, her face slick with sweat and her eyes closed.  The physician turned to Ephraim, holding a live baby girl.  He gave Ephraim a faint smile.

“Twins my Lord.  Your wife has given you twins.”

The child was covered in blood, her face contorted in an aching cry.

Ephraim didn’t acknowledge, but rushed to his wife’s side.  He knelt by the bedside and took her hand.


She didn’t respond.

“Hector,” Ephraim spoke to the physician.  “Hector!”

In an instant, Hector was at his side.

“What is wrong?”

It was a moment before he answered.  “I am sorry my Lord.  We were not prepared for the second child, it was too much.  Something was torn, she is bleeding and I cannot stop it.”

Ephraim gripped his wife’s hand.  No.  God, You cannot take her from me.

He rose to his feet and leaned over her.  Reaching out, he gently stroked her wet forehead then kissed it, breathing in her scent.  She still smelled of mint, like the day they first met.

“Kathryn,” he whispered.  “My Kathryn.”

There was a flutter of movement under her eyelid.  Slowly, she opened them.

“My Ephraim,” she whispered back, a small smile on her lips.  Ephraim tried to smile back.

“The children,” she continued in a faint voice. “Our children… Ephraim?”

Ephraim glanced at Hector.  The physician nodded, “She, the child lives me Lady.”

“She…” Kathryn breathed out. “Our daughter….the other?”

“A son,” Ephraim responded before Hector could say a word.

“A son… Ephraim,” she took a shaky breath.  “What shall we call them?”

“Whatever you want my love.”  Ephraim stroked her forehead with his thumb.

“Wrenna and Aaron.” she whispered after a moment.  “You…you choose the rest.”

“Kristine and… Walter.  Kristine for her mother and, Walter for my father.  How is that my love?”

“Wrenna Kristine and Aaron Walter Fulton.”  Kathryn smiled.  “Fine names.”

He nodded.



She whispered something, so softly, he couldn’t hear her.   He leaned in closer.

“I love you.”

A tear slid down his face.  He laid his hand on her cheek and kissed her.

“I love you too.”

(Copyright L.E.R. Jenkins 2013)

Writing Again

A couple weeks ago I wrote the opening to my next novel.  After almost a year of writing nothing new and months of battling Writer’s Block it feels SO GOOD to be writing again!  (And I have to say, I’m in love with this opening.)  I can’t wait to completely immerse myself in this new world and follow this set of characters on their journey.  It’s going to be epic, at least in my humble opinion. 😉

Anyone want a sneak peek of the opening? Let me know by liking this post or leaving a comment!

Choices Scene: Gryphon Attack

This has got to be one of my favorite scenes from Choices.  I just love how it turned out.  What do you guys thinks?

I looked out from the tower room.  Abby, the little girl from the dining hall, was pinned under a fallen hut.  She clawed at the ground trying desperately to dig free.

“Abby!”  I shouted, “Hold on!  I’m coming!”

“What are you doing?  You can’t go out there!”  One of the girls grabbed my arm.

“Yes I can!”  I ripped free of her grip and bolted out of hiding straight for Abby and fell to my knees beside her.

She was crying, her dirty checks stained with tears.  “Mommy!  Where’s mommy!”

“We’re going to find her, as soon as you’re free.”  Thrusting my hands under the wall I lifted, pulling as hard as I could.  It barely moved.  I tried again.  Nothing.

“Okay Abby, I’m going to need your help.  When I say, lift up as hard as you can.  Push with your hands on the ground.  Can you do that for me?”

Abby nodded.

“Alright, ready, one, two, three, push!”

The hut moved a little more, but we weren’t able to hold it.  It fell back down on top of Abby.

“Aw!” Abby yelled when it struck her back.

“Oh Abby, I’m sorry.  Hold on!”

Abby screamed.  Her eyes grew wide and she stared at something behind me.

I turned and peeked over my shoulder.  A gryphon sat on the wall behind us, staring straight at me. Its lion shoulders hunched and eagle wings raised as it sat, poised to strike.  The rider on its back wore a masked helmet and shine-less black armor.  His mask depicted the hideous face of a distorted, scowling lion.  A single spike protruded from the top of the helm, making the wearer appear taller.

“Push Abby!  Help me!”

Abby set her little hands on the ground and strained against the wall that was crushing her.  I snuck a glance over my shoulder to check on the gryphon, it leapt from the wall and started towards us.

I pulled harder, setting my feet firmly on the ground and heaving with all of my might.

“I can move!”  Abby yelled.

“Then move out!”

She wriggled out from under the hut.  As soon as she was clear I let the heavy thing fall.  Taking Abby’s hand I hauled her away just as the gryphon pounced on the hut.  It splintered under its weight, shattering into a million pieces.

“Run!”  I pushed Abby ahead of me, hoping to protector her as much as I could.

My foot caught on a splintered board and I went sprawling to the ground.

“Aw!” I cried out as my body collided with the ground.

I rolled around, the gryphon loomed over me.  The rider’s masked face was turned my direction.  “Terren is finished!”  He yelled.

I spotted a stone, laying near my feet, “Sorry,” I leaning over and picked it up, “I don’t think so!”  I threw the stone at the rider’s face.  He held up his hands to deflect it and I ran.

Abby had tripped a few yards ahead of me.  I scooped her up as I ran past.

The gryphon screeched.  It was probably following us by now.  The keep loomed ahead.  We only had to reach it!  My lungs burned but the force of my fear kept adrenalin pumping through my body, driving me on.  A group of people stood in the doorway, waving us on.

“He’s right behind you!”  They yelled.

Abby screamed and I screamed too.

Choices Scene: That Awkward Moment…

I first say chapter 2 of Choices has one big awkward moment between Kate and Terren, and let me tell you, it was fun to write. 🙂  Why did I make it awkward?  Well, it’s awkward for Kate because here she is, suddenly dropped in another world, rescued by a handsome stranger and not exactly sure how she’s suppose to explain where she’s from or how she got there.  Plus, she doesn’t even know she’s in another world until Terren says so.  How would you react?

As I was writing I put myself into Kate’s shoes.  What would I be thinking?  What would my general feeling of the situation be?  Well, I think it would be really awkward… especially for me who is just awkward with strangers anyway.  So, their first meeting became one big awkward moment… at least for Kate. 😉

Here is a clip.

“Where are we?  I’m… um… kind of lost.”

Terren looked up at me.  What was he thinking?  I lowered my gaze.

“The Northern Wood.”

I frowned, I had never heard of the Northern Wood, “Where’s that?”

Terren stared at me; I could see the firelight reflecting in his eyes.

“The north-west of Aeden.”

Aeden?  That wasn’t a place that was someone’s name.  Now I was really confused.


Terren wouldn’t stop staring at me. I reddened.  Good thing it was dark, he couldn’t see how scarlet I’m sure my face was.

“Yes, Aeden.  Where did you think you were?”

I didn’t answer.  I looked away and rested my chin on my hands.  More silence.  I didn’t try breaking it this time.  Aeden?  The Northern Wood?  I had never heard of those places.  Was I in another country?  But how could that be?  I couldn’t remember what happened before waking up in the woods, but I was sure somehow, I was still in the US. 

I stole a glance at Terren.  He was rotating what looked like a skinned rabbit on a spit over the fire.  I took in his clothing.  It looked like something Aragorn would wear in the Lord of the Rings.  Something stirred behind him, a shadow… no, a horse.

I looked at Terren again.  He couldn’t be more than twenty-five; at least, that was my guess.  He seemed thoughtful, faraway.  There was something about him, something in his face that I liked.  I wondered what color his eyes were.  I hoped they were blue; blue eyes would suite him.

What does it matter what color his eyes are? Are you seriously thinking about that?

“Oh shut up,” I mumbled, though I didn’t mean to say it aloud.

“Did you say something?”  Terren glanced up and caught me staring.  I blushed, averting my gaze.

“Um, no.”  Shut up Kate!

NaNoWriMo Novel

The novel has a real title! 😀

The new title for Stephen of Scarborough/Stephen of Sherwood and the title for the novel version is… *drumroll*… Wolf’s Head. 

What do you think?


His prideful spirit saw him banished from home, his foolishness nearly lost him love and his arrogance a friendship, now Stephen Hode stands to lose his life.
Outlawed as a consequence of his past actions, Stephen must find a way to redeem himself or live forever as a hunted outlaw, a wolf’s head. With the land suffering from the insane taxes of a war campaigning king and his family about to become destitute, Stephen fights against his own past and future dreams to begin a legend that will span the course of time.


NaNoWriMo Starts Monday!

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