Charlotte Saint – Crookfield

Behold! One of the two main characters of the yet-to-be-renamed Crookfield!

Charlotte Saint is my secondary main character. She’s eighteen years old and living in Crookfield for one summer only: the summer before she finally enters college. Her father ditched Crookfield many years before her birth and never looked back, but her estranged Crookfield family begged him to let her spend just three months in Crookfield to know her heritage, and so he and Charlotte at last acquiesced. This is the last place she wants to be spending her summer, but she’s finding it to be certainly an… interesting environment.

After all, it’s not every summer you get to live in an ex-cult town.

Unfortunately for Charlotte, it becomes slowly clear that the Crookfielder blood burns more fervently in her than Thistle or perhaps any other citizen. And with the gods that sleep under the melted-tar highway slowly stirring, well…

She’s a beacon to lead chaos right to them.

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“Crookfield was a dusty roadside town…” – Crookfield

I have begun a new story!

It doesn’t have a name yet. I’m just calling it “Crookfield” at the moment because that’s the name of the town where it takes place. The story involves elderĀ gods, blood sacrifice, ex(?)-cult towns, centuries-old traditions, and old-fashioned Southern mayors.

Our two main characters are Thistle Bancroft, a native resident of Crookfield, and Charlotte Saint, who is spending a summer here at her estranged Crookfielder family’s bequest.

Enjoy, and wish me luck as I embark on the drafting process!

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“Butter, Bank Robbery, and the Ever-Encroaching Existential Fear of Aging”

I’m working on a new short story.

It’s complete at only just over 2,000 words. It’s not a masterstroke, but I think it’s pretty cute, and at least an interesting read. I’m editing it now.

It’s called “Butter, Bank Robbery, and the Ever-Encroaching Existential Fear of Aging”. (For neatness’s sake, I’ll be tagging it as “Butter Bank Robbery” on this blog to save room.)

Here’s a collage:

butter-bank-robbery

Five Poems

As always, I would like to preface any poems I’ve written with “I am a baby, fledgling poet who still doesn’t understand the conventions of poetry but really wants to get in on the game so I’m ravenously reading poetry (particularly slam poetry which in all honesty is the genre that really captivates me), but nevertheless my heart lies in fiction and prose so my poetry probably isn’t going to be Blythe Baird or Maya Angelou no matter how hard I try (I’m still gonna write it though, so bite me).”

Here are five I’m submitting to my on-campus literary magazine. I suspect that only three of them are publishable. Can you tell which/do you have an opinion?

pyrrhicvictoriestoeatramennoodlesrawdearpoetsjuly42016loveorwhatreallymatters

Additionally: looking for title suggestions for that last one! The title as it is now is lame.