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When I began writing short fiction for hire, I did not expect that I would be writing horror stories. Horror is not a genre I typically like to read, yet I found that if given a topic, I could write a pretty good horror story. My work with Wet Ink Games has led me to
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(Find previous chapters and a description of the project here.) When Hrothgar was gone, Edda donned her cloak and followed the pull of Freya’s anger, unable to resist how it called her. She met Helga on the way, and the two walked in solemn silence. On the outskirts of the woods, they found Ama.
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(Find previous chapters and a description of the project here.) Edda sat at her table, looking at the stone with her true name. It held power, but it was a power she no longer wanted. Yet, power was a tricky thing. The thought of giving it up gave her pause. She plotted how to
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(Find previous chapters and a description of the project here.) The forest was dark, but it didn’t hinder her. Edda knew the way. She was impervious to the cold. The warmth of the wild magic swirled in her limbs, propelled her onward through the darkness. She crashed through the woods, snapping twigs and rustling
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(Find previous chapters and a description of the project here.) Freya drove the ram for most of the day, moving slowly through the accumulating snow along the decrepit roadway. Out the window of the ram, Edda watched the river gliding, and the trees swaying. The spirits talked over one another. She tuned them out.
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(Find previous chapters and description of the project here.) Back in her house, Edda knew the tame magic wasn’t working as soon as she picked up the brick. Fix it…Fix the power…To the Waters…Go! Fix it. The spirits’ instructions churned inside her mind. She laid the brick on the small table, tuning out the
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(Find the previous chapter and a description of the project here.) Edda returned to her house, pulsing with power. Hrothgar was not waiting for her, and disappointment settled in her chest as she shrugged off her cloak, hanging it on the peg near the door. Her eyes were drawn to the table, on which
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(Find a description of the project here.) Edda opened her eyes as the morning light streamed through the split in the curtains. She felt Hrothgar’s breathing on the back of her neck. He was pressed against her, clutching her around the ribs. She hadn’t intended to let him fall asleep here. Sitting up, she threw
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I have had the great benefit of having many spiritual mentors over the course of my life. I grew up surrounded by people that loved me and had my best interests at heart. But I also grew up in a denomination that was fracturing over a number of issues. The biggest question that impacted me
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I have not always had the best self-esteem. I am, at heart, a people pleaser. I want everyone to like me, and when they don’t, a level of self-doubt and even self-loathing starts to infect me. Poor self-image can be just as debilitating as any other mental health issue. The times in my life when
The Quick and the Dead
Short stories. Creative experiments. Ideas that might not pan out.
The Quick and the Dead 