Prompts
Then and Now
The first ever piece that I published here on Vocal is “What a Glass of Merlot Can Hold: Seeing Past the Now.” As I am writing this, I see the irony in that subtitle; perhaps deep down I knew I would be referencing it someday in the future. Reading that piece two years after writing it, I still think it’s a solid short story. However, I also noticed quite a few things I would like to edit and improve upon. I didn’t remember every detail that I chose to include so, in a way, it was like reading something new to me, yet so familiar.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro2 years ago in Writers
Finding My Voice
"A Night Under the Stars: The start of something beautiful" was my first piece published on Vocal. When I decided to take a risk and enter a story in the Date Night challenge a couple years ago, I began the journey to discovering who I am as a writer and what I can create when given a prompt. At that point, this process was entirely new to me. I have always been a writer, but this was different. At that point, I was just developing a style of my own.
By Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro2 years ago in Writers
Dr. Strangelove
The first story I ever wrote was a story about a boy named Jason Parker. It was a handwritten work of fiction unlike anything I had done previously. Normally, my overly active twelve or so year old mind would've probably done something else. We were between video game consoles at the time, so I didn't have hours to kill upping my K/D ratio. This was before the dawn of kill streaks and attack dogs, and prior to the age of supply drops.
By ChristopherWrites2 years ago in Writers
"Enchanted Aeries: The Winged Unicorns of Wonder". Content Warning.
**Enchanted Aeries: The Winged Unicorns of Wonder** Once upon a time, in a realm beyond the clouds, there existed a land of pure enchantment called "Enchanted Aeries." It was a place where dreams took flight and imagination knew no bounds. Here, amidst the soft pastel skies and twinkling stars, lived the Winged Unicorns of Wonder – ethereal beings with wings as delicate as gossamer and horns that shimmered like stardust.
By Esse Naeemah Ali2 years ago in Writers
Disappearing Woman. Top Story - September 2023.
"Disappearing Woman In silence, she's been bound She's here, but gone without a trace Nowhere to be found" The hot, summer sun beat through the window of my bedroom, the song of cicadas leading my small, clumsy hands in their creaking ballad of inspiration. Britney Spears smiled down at me from a poster above my white, wicker desk, her pigtails adorned with tufts of white feathers, beaming a porcelain smile that had yet to crack under the pressure of stardom.
By Christiane Winter2 years ago in Writers
JENNIFER. Content Warning.
**Jennifer: The Ancient Tapestry of a Name** In the heart of a quaint village nestled between rolling hills and lush meadows, there lived a young woman named Jennifer. Her name carried with it a rich tapestry of ancient meanings and a spiritual significance that seemed to guide her path through life.
By Esse Naeemah Ali2 years ago in Writers
The Summer of 2005
A Moment Suspended in Time Ah the summer of 2005, hard to believe that was 18 years ago, feels just like yesterday. That was the year I turned 18, the year I graduated high school. I remember feeling so full of life, hope, that any of my dreams could come true. I carried around this average blue spiral notebook that I bought from the grocery store next to my work since I had left my other journal at home one day. I've had many journals through out my life, but for some reason I still have memories all these years later of sitting in a booth on my breaks writing in this journal. While this isn't my technical first journal entry, it is the one I remember most vivid and is most impactful to me. I didn't know it then but this would be the summer that would ultimately change my life, and years later become an inspiration for not only a novel, but a book series. But I am getting a little a head of myself, let me take you back to the beginning.
By Kimmiekins42 years ago in Writers
Tales From The Cubby
I didn't plan to be a writer. I was just a lonely kid in a cubby. I was 5. But being 4 was burned in my mind. Dad cheated again. There was yelling. Again. Tears, again. I hid in the cubby, the small storage place between the first and second floor of our split level house.
By Words by Me2 years ago in Writers
