Living on Writer's Block

Creating is everything.


  • Tick, Tock

    Time? Do I need time? Time to work and time to sleep and time to live and time to breath and time to love and time to lose and time to win and time to play and time to rest and time to read and time to sing and time to eat and time to…

  • Chapter 16

    Chapter 16

    The room was silent, but beyond the door, she heard noises. She quickly dropped out of her hammock and pulled her boots on, noting dismally that the sole of her right boot was coming off, and went out the door. The crew were all talking animatedly and hurrying around the ship, and she rushed up…

  • My Mother

    Describe a family member, you say? My dad’s pretty awesome; he works basically three jobs, but not because we’re poor. It’s because he wants to, and because people besides us need his help. I’m pretty proud of him. But honestly, my mom is probably the most amazing person I’ve ever met. (Sorry Dad.) She runs…

  • Proud?

    These writing prompts don’t all make sense to me. Some do, in fact, most do; but there are days, like this one, when the prompt does not make sense to me. Why ask us what makes us proud? It seems to me that this is a little bit of a loaded question. Everyone feels pressured…

  • Stuff and Things…

    As a reply to a Daily Writing Prompt I figured this one was going to be worth the time to tell about. I have a lot of things going on, and a lot of thoughts about all of them, so this might be a longer post. First, I’m a senior in high school, and there’s…

  • Chapter 15

    Chapter 15

    “Please, dear, won’t you help your Matron? Think of how well I treated you, you were my second-in-command! You won’t get such treatment from him, I can tell you that, dear,” she said, in her old poisoned-sugar voice.  Her pleas rang agonizingly in Ramona’s ears. A fire-eaten, pale, sea-bloated Matron wobbled toward her with her…

  • Chapter 14

    Chapter 14

    Ramona Redhawk bolted upright, shaking and gasping for breath, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. As she moved she was conscious of the familiar burning that started around her ankles and then raced in circles around her body, moving upward like a cyclone of burning sparks rushing over her. She gritted her teeth…

  • A Letter to the Reader

    Dear readers: I feel I have failed you. I have utterly failed to post a new chapter for the past month, and I am ever so utterly sorry. The trouble is, my school life is hectic, and on top of that work is crazy. When I remember I need to do a chapter, I’m always…

  • Chapter 13

    Chapter 13

    As the ghoul raised his face with its enormous, plastered-on grin, and began to shamble toward her with a needle in its overlong, bony fingers, she shut her eyes tightly. As the horrible old man raised the needle, she gritted her teeth in preparation but even then, as the needle plunged deep into her shoulder,…

  • May 21st: “Thunderstorm”

    I am sitting on a wood fence. It is simple, a standard two-pole, two wide-spaced-slat affair made of roughly hewn, generally rectangular-shaped odds and ends of wood. It has been recently edited; the inexperienced, pale tan and peachy slats show where the new bits are. The rest is weathered and grey, splinter-less and with varying…