Nila here. I’m working on a new endeavor for the new year, and I’d like to get some feedback from creative writers who have specific struggles in their writing practice (e.g., with consistency and discipline).
If this describes you, and if you’re willing, please click on the button below to complete the Creative Writing Goals survey. I’d appreciate your support. The survey is one introductory multiple choice question, five open-ended questions and one last yes/no question. So it should be quick, unless you choose to take more time to compose your answers.
If you’re interested in receiving news and updates about this endeavor, but don’t have time to complete a survey, you can just skip to the bottom of the survey and leave your name and email address.
Once I’ve closed the survey (in one or two weeks), I’ll delete this post.
If you have any questions about the survey, you can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org (you will not be automatically added to any lists if you’re just emailing with questions). You can also leave any questions in the comments to this post, if you prefer.
The Contest Chevelure was a time-honored competition held in a modest town in the middle of a modest country. It was a contest to see who could have the most extravagant and beautiful head of hair. Only, there was one notable detail. None of the people in the town had any hair on their heads. Continue reading
The asker was my little niece, all bundled up in black-and-silver fleece blankets. Her favorite colors. She didn’t ask the question just out of curiosity. She was frowning slightly. Winter had swallowed up her favorite season, autumn. (The season to which her only objection was, “why does there have to be so much orange?”).
I smiled. “Do you want the scientific explanation or the non-scientific explanation?”Continue reading
Andrew saw it first. About a month into our six-month rotation maintaining the company’s Arctic monitoring station. He was doing weekly maintenance on all the pumps on the north side when he thought he saw some motion. At first, he thought he’d just imagined something. Continue reading
When buds are twisted too tightly, they will never bloom beautifully, my grandmother always said, all the more so after she’d witness my staying in my little corner of the room at a party in our house while the other children played with each other. But she did not know that I was surrounded by friends in my own world, in Castle Farouche.Continue reading
Rare are they who can by their very presence bring about the emergence of the fantastic from the most common of things and the most mundane of people.
So rare indeed, that most towns only had one such person, only one whose speech inspired the emergence of energy from lethargy, whose gaze transformed ugliness to beauty, and whose touch could change a blunder into a wonder.
Feodora was one such person.
A person known throughout the realm as a fantasticator.
This week’s story will be posted soon. This is the anniversary post for Storyfeather’s fifth year!
The Year of S.T.E.A.M. is done! That was the theme for Storyfeather Year Five. Science. Technology. Engineering. Arts. Mathematics. Year Five’s stories aimed to center around one of the aforementioned elements. It was quite the challenge.
Also a challenge, keeping the bar for the artwork as high as I could manage after the visual upgrade the site received in Year Four.
Thank you to everyone who read even a single story. And if you liked or commented, thank you again. Thank you for your time and interest, and for being a part of Storyfeather, especially Year Five.
A lot happened in the fifth year stories. A cast and crew of middle school students put on an original play about cosmic heroes and deadly aliens. A malfunctioning beauty product gave whole new meaning to the term “vanishing cream.” An explorer got lost in a spatiotemporal anomaly that was once the treasure vault of an alien pirate. And a woman started turning into a cartoon…
I’ve written over 250 stories now. And I’ve produced 52 podcast episodes (one for each story from Year One). Year Five was a (sometimes delirious) struggle, but well worth it. Storytelling is still my true love, still my destiny, still my path.
Year Six is on the horizon. Here’s to seeing what stories will brew. I hope you’ll come along.
“The only gift you ever ask for is a story, the same story, year after year.”
Nisha grinned at her uncle. “Well, I like the story, especially the way you tell it.”
“You, dearest niece, do not need flattery to win my heart. But I like the sound of it nevertheless. You shall have the story, of course. But I’ve brought you something else this year as well.” He pulled the basket he’d set on the table closer. Nisha had thought the basket was meant for one of her siblings. He lifted the top. “A gift,” he said, “as well as a burden.”Continue reading