Aspire No More.

The girl with bare feet and hair shaded blue in the moonlight walked closer to an unmarked grave. She stared for a moment and felt anticipation crawl over her skin. She swallowed. “I’m here,” she said, her words flat. She waited for something, someone, and looked about her, as her hair tickled her jaw. “You hear me? I’m here.” This time her words were forceful, more intent. She watched the mound…

You Are A Story

What if we are the stories; the horrors, the fantasies, the romances, the failings, the exultant endings. Maybe some of us will receive 1-star reviews, and others 5, while the rest remain somewhere in the middle. Are some of us mere quotes, powerful in our curtness, or are we full-length novels, with twists and turns, swathed in beige or adorned in purple? Do we fight to give this unseen reader a…

Don’t Call Me Writer

Tymothy Longoria:

Allie Burke inspires.

Originally posted on ORGANIC COFFEE, haphazardly:

So I wrote that post called Don’t Call Me Author for a friend’s blog way back when and I think it says something like Call Me Writer Instead of Author but I sometimes say shit that just doesn’t make sense.

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Originally posted on Aspire No More:

Lily sat still for a moment, looking at her feet. Her dark hair fell over her face, hiding her violet eyes. Across the room, Luke said nothing and only stared blankly back at her.

“I bet you’re thinking about what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” She said still looking down. She lifted her head and blew her bangs back over her forehead. “No matter what you say, I…

Originally posted on Luke Writes What You Read:

Every day people ask “How do you start writing?”, blissfully unaware that the answer is the last two words of their own question.

 Behold, five fruits of my writing experience:

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Where Are All The Eyes?

A short.

Elie Dearing loved to draw. She loved singing, and dancing in her room in the middle of the night, but mostly she loved to draw. Her favorite things to draw were happy trees, bright yellow suns, flowers of all colors. One Christmas, Elie received a one of a kind art set, complete with every color, every paintbrush imaginable. One of her favorite creations was one of her mother, before…

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    “Chance means nothing. Fate means nothing. In fact the two are sisters, holding out a snare for anyone who would listen to their beautiful words. Choice is what decides what will become of us, of you. Read a prophesy or listen to a great foretelling until the words are seared into your soul. It matters not. Only when you decide to go one way or the other, and only when you choose to live…

…th…

Happy Halloween!

In the Spanish and Mexican culturethere is an enormous amount of tradition that is passed down.…