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Photo Credit: pixabay.com It was called The Wail House. At the time, I didn’t understand the concept and had mistaken the Wail Room for the girl’s rest room. However, what I endured during my time on the throne was unusual but extraordinary. I would be lying if I didn’t say it was weird, and I… Continue reading The Wail House
It is a sad truth. Writers are poor. As a profession, we are asked to prove ourselves by donating our works. We are told that there is no money in writing, and we believe them! We are forced into careers that do not align with our passions just so we can bring home an income to support our families... CLICK TO READ MORE!
The sun kissed her skin as a cool breeze brushed the hair off her shoulders. Anna pulled her sweater close to her as she walked along the trail, oblivious to the birds chirping overhead or the squirrels darting from tree to tree eager to stash their goods. She was cooped up indoors for far too long, and the exercise was doing her some good. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Frankly, she just wanted to go back home to her comfortable chair, with a cozy blanket and a warm cup of tea... CLICK TO READ MORE!
I am exhausted. How many times have you said these words? How many times were you too exhausted to even utter these words?... CLICK TO READ MORE!
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As one looks around my newfound writing space, they are blanketed with inspiration by a couple of creative minds. Many have asked me, “What do those words on the ceiling say?” and some have inquired about my mother’s artwork. Today, I am going to share with you the story behind the art and the artists behind the quotes... CLICK TO READ MORE!
It feels so good to be writing, again! I have been waiting a very long time for a quiet space free of distractions, and now it is complete… almost! CLICK TO READ MORE!
Stacy N. Elliott 
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