Storyteller’s Creed

I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge.

That myth is more potent than history.

That dreams are more powerful than facts.

That hope always triumphs over experience.

That laughter is the only cure for grief.

And I believe that love is stronger than death.

Take a Look Around...

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

New Short Story (for Creative Writing Class)

Here's a short story that was part of a collection that I wrote for my Creative Writing class. It's kinda dark, but I am in love with. <3 I hope you guys like it!
Before His Time
By Samantha Nelson
This has to be a joke. The uniforms, the shining medals, the semi-serious expressions of everyone around me. This is pretentiousness at its finest. And I am stuck in the middle of it.
Mother had been begging me for years to join the army. The rebellion against our country is not to be tolerated, she insists. I am expected to take up a mantle that my brother forsook, what with him joining the rebels. But I deny her, again and again. I will not die for my country. Father has long been buried. My brother came home as dossier labeled MIA. Even I understood that he was gone, no matter what the government said. I had become the last man in the house. Mother had to rely on me. I keep the farm running, assist her in daily tasks, and handle her finances. With my leaving, our home would be in shambles. But there was no escaping the draft.  A cold ball of fear slides its way into my stomach, uncannily like a bullet.
“Andrew Jacobssen!”
I step forward. The drill sergeant is suddenly in my face, spitting his orders at me.
“You’ll be training under Sergeant Bones. Am I understood!” More an order than a question.
“Sir, yes, sir!” I yell. The words are hollow in my mouth. He glares at me.
“You talk back to me, and I’ll have you training until midnight! Am I understood!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” I shouted back, the volume of my voice increasing. Louder apparently means better, because he went on to yell at the next unfortunate soul in line. I step back, noticing the mocking eyes and half-smiles of everyone else. My fist almost clenches, but I release the tension in a breath. Let them think they are above me. This war is not a boy’s game.
Nine weeks pass. I am pushed both physically and mentally. But not emotionally. My soul is already in the grave with my brother. But others have not my pain. They believe it is an honor to be here. They train day and night. Their days are filled with honor and glory. Mine are consumed by questions. Why did he forsake his family to join a pointless cause? Was he passionate in his fight ‘till the end? When can I join him where he stands?
Sergeant Bones is aptly named; the skin over his cheeks stretches uncomfortably tight. His eyes are as heartless as his personality. When I see him, I gaze at Death. I almost welcome it. My brother is closer to me if I am closer to him.
The time passes almost too slowly. Almost before I can comprehend it, I am on the front lines. Bullets fly out around me. The air is rent with the screams of the dying, the paths of the bullets, and the screaming of orders. I crawl to the trench, inch by inch. I choke on mud, eyes watering. Shrapnel pings my helmet – I continue. Bodies lie around me, thick red liquid staining their perfect uniforms. Something akin to sorrow pierces my heart. They were once so eager to die. Now that they are gone, the joy has faded from their eyes. Do they like what they have found?
            As I pass yet another fallen soldier, a bullet hits my back. Pain tears my world apart, leaving red streaks in my grey life. Am I screaming? Am I moving at all? There is nothing but agony. But somewhere, a distant memory reminds me of where I am going. My brother. He waits for me. A rebel no more, we are brothers again. Another bullet to the back. My universe becomes an infinite span of misery. Life leaches out of me in the form of sticky redness. Another bullet. More blood. A boot crosses my field of vision; the figure crouches down. With a final, excruciating effort, I gaze at my killer.

Something is wrong. He is gone. Dead. But no – as my vision dims, I do not mistake the horror he wears. My beloved brother, missing no longer. I have not the time to enjoy it.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

NaNoWriMo

Hey, folks! For the first time in a few years, I'm going to do NaNoWriMo...and I am determined to win this time. :D

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

New Short Story!

Hey, guys! So, to kickstart this revival, here's a short story I just recently (like...just-now kinda recently) edited. If you have any constructive criticism, please post in the comments. :) Thanks!

Trapped in the Present

He opened the door with his key, dropping it in the bowl on the desk inside. Sighing, he loosened his tie. His gaze caught his eye in the mirror. Dress shirt, red tie, hair perfectly in place. For a moment, he glimpsed beyond the reflection. Armour. Sword. His brothers in arms behind him. Reaching a hand out, his fingertips grazed the glass. Maybe he could reach what he could not see. Memories tugged at his heart. Forested expanses, teeming with dangerous creatures. A dragon, flame spewing from it's teeth. Jokes around a fire, shields leaning up against the logs. A fair maiden, reached on tiptoe to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. For a moment, he could almost feel the wind through his hair, the leather boots on his feet, the scent of pine in the air. Every day, he vowed to remember his old life. Perhaps there was a clue that he missed, something that could take him home again.

A knock shook him out of his thoughts. He opened the door. “Hello?” A woman looked up from her position on his doorstep. His eyes involuntary widened. Saliva dried in his mouth as his breath hitched. The fair maiden smiled with the lips that had kissed his cheek. “Alexander...it's been so long.” Alexander swallowed. He struggled for something to say. The woman smiled wider, sensing his distress.
“I asked Merlin if I could follow you. I'm afraid,” she laughed, “that I'm a few years late.”
His heart constricted. “Wendolyn...”
“Alexander,” she whispered, rushing to hug him. He automatically caught her, holding her tightly. He closed his eyes. The memory of the forest and castle sunk into his soul, settling amongst the silt of regret. For a moment, he felt peace.
“Hello?” The voice made him open his eyes. A postman stood at the door, holding a package. “Package for Mr. Alex? You okay?”
He shook his head, clearing the fantasy. “Thank you.” His hands automatically received the package, and shut the door. This had to stop – the daydreaming. But how could they, when it was where he truly belonged? In an instant, Alexander's heart collapsed with nostalgia and longing. His legs crumpled, sending him crashing to the floor. A sob worked his way up his throat, choking him. He prayed, words fervent, “Almighty God, take me away from this hell. Bring me back to where I belong, Oh God.” Tears spilled onto the package he still held. Ripping it, he tried to bury his emotions. Never before had his dreams seemed so real. It almost as if he could touch her....

But lo! As if his dreams had become reality, in his lap lay the shredded paper, and a lady's handkerchief. One he had seen waving to him on every departure. And on a note buried inside it - “I'm coming, Alexander.”


Hope you guys liked it!
~Tigerr

Sunday, September 4, 2016

Saturday, September 3, 2016

A Revival!

Okay, so, after finding our money from the fundraiser recently, the Klompsons decided to do something with it. The members of the club who could attend went out for a fun night of inspiration and bonding. After eating some excellent food, it was agreed: we need a revival. This club is a thing of beauty, and I think we should come back even stronger than ever to improve this club. I'm pretty sure most of us have some stories that are new, or edited, and we've got even more new story ideas. Let's update the site, and get involved. Let's make this thing last! :) (Did I come off too strong? If anyone has got ideas, or comments, please let me know in the comments section. Of course, this is only an idea - a suggestion, but not reality until all members agree.)
Thanks for hearing me out. :)
Lots of love and excitement, Tiger

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Camp NaNoWriMo

I know it's been forever since anyone has posted on here, and I'm hoping that we still sort of have some version of a club... But, I'm getting back into the writing grind and doing Camp NaNoWriMo. If anyone wants to do it with me,and my friend Sarah, please join! We are looking for people to fill a cabin.
-Poppy Red

Sunday, November 30, 2014

NaNoWriMo anyone??

For the first time in three years I didn't participate in NaNoWriMo! Who did it this year? I feel sad not doing it this year, but next year for sure I will try to get my act together so I can participate. :)
-Poppy Red