writer – Slanted Spines

The Hat-Giving Hickory Tree

June 19, 2020April 16, 2021Posted in StoriesTagged baseball hat, Blog, childhood, creative writing, fiction, hat, hats, hickory, quirky, short story, tree, trees, writer, writingLeave a comment

A slanted story by Brittany Cole

Most days, Rodney never thinks about the baseball hat hickory tree. When Rodney does remember that tree and that period of his boyhood, during which the hickory thrived and blossomed dozens of baseball caps overnight, he still feels somewhat bewildered by its undeniable yet utterly miraculous existence. It seems so long ago now, that he questions his memory—was it all a dream? Something he has misremembered and imagined over the years?

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The Man with a Thousand Voices: A Short Story (4)

May 22, 2020April 16, 2021Posted in The Man with a Thousand VoicesTagged creative writing, family, fiction, growing up, love, mental health, oral tradition, short story, Story, storytelling, tale, tradition, writer, writingLeave a comment

This is the final installment in a tale that begins with a first, second, and third part.

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Carrie Pilby: A Book Review

April 24, 2020April 26, 2023Posted in Books - Young AdultTagged book, book blog, book club, book review, books, bookworm, Caren Lissner, Carrie Pilby, critique, lit review, literary analysis, literary review, literature, reader, reading, review, writer, writing, ya lit, young adult, young adult lit1 Comment

This book review is intended for readers who have already read Carrie Pilby or for people who haven’t read Carrie Pilby but would rather just read my book review about it! Which is all to say that there are spoilers ahead!

Carrie Pilby, by Caren Lissner, is a novel about a 19-year-old young woman living in New York City. Having skipped three grades and graduated Harvard at age eighteen, she is now a lonely genius living by herself, as afforded by her father who works abroad; although she is financially well-off and intellectually gifted, Carrie has no friends and a slew of self-imposed morally rigid rules. In an attempt to improve her social capabilities, her therapist Dr. Petrov gives Carrie a list of five things to do, including go on a date and celebrate New Year’s Eve. Throughout the novel, Carrie acquires a few strange friends from her part-time legal proofreading job, and another few from local spots. Ultimately, Carrie begins to realize her own hypocrisies as life reveals its complexities, moral ambiguities, and hidden pleasures.

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Love Letterz: Poems

February 14, 2020April 16, 2021Posted in PoemsTagged Blog, blogger, cat, cats, creative writing, love, middle school, notebook, poem, Poems, poet, poetry, romance, romantic, self esteem, Valentine’s Day, writer, writing1 Comment

Love Letter to my Cat

To my Juliet.

With a soft paw stroking my neck,
you whisper your arrival,
wide-eyed and attentive to my movements
as I slowly bat my eyes open.
You are a shape so familiar to me,
a fluffy silhouette I see out of the corner of my eye
even when I don’t see it out of the corner of my eye,
a small pointed face with those two triangular ears
that perch atop your head, antennae-like;
the tail that slaps softly side-to-side,
restless unless asleep.
My thoughts meander away, dreamlike distractions,
and as my eyes close with certainty,
you brush my cheek with your paw and
sniff my face closely with your twitching nose,
whiskers tickling my nostrils.

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The Missing Chair

January 24, 2020Posted in StoriesTagged creative writing, flash fiction, short story, Story, writer, writing2 Comments

“Things don’t just disappear; they can always be found if you know where to look,” Leslietta Bernadard had said, rather fatefully, to her boss on Monday, as he was searching the office for his car keys at the end of the workday. Perhaps the universe overheard her and fancied itself a prankster, or perhaps her coworker overheard and fancied himself a cynic, because either way, Leslietta Bernadard walked into Donald Troy Insurance on Tuesday and found herself without a chair.

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N. T. Ed the Snowkid

December 20, 2019April 16, 2021Posted in Tales of N.T. EdTagged Christmas, creative writing, fiction, holiday, short story, skeleton, Story, writer, writing2 Comments

As cheery, holiday bells ring in the background, I welcome you into our story for today, dear reader! Happy winter solstice and the merriest of holidays to you, and I hope this sweet little tale will provide you with delight.

It was one holiday season not too long ago, when snow was gently tumbling in large, fluffy flakes upon the mountains that loomed above Spinesville, a winter flutter bestowed upon the densely forested pine trees which grew like fur from the rolling mountains—and upon one of those mountains, in his cabin, whose chimney steadily smoked, the smoke mingling with the snowfall, Ned Theodore Ed was rummaging around in his basement as the fireplace upstairs smoldered. The early evening sky was saturating into a deeper and deeper shade of blue, and N.T.’s dinner baked in the oven while he was moving armloads of cardboard boxes around.

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I Fuel the Great Blog

September 13, 2019September 15, 2019Posted in I Fuel the Great Machine, Personal BlogTagged Art & Hobby, artist, Blog, blogger, commentary, me, photos, pics, writer

At the beginning of the summer, when I started writing the first part of what turned out to be an eleven-part series, I didn’t intend for it to be more than a single flash fiction piece. Inspired by Ray Bradbury and the vintage science fiction artwork from the 60’s time period, I had originally sat down to revisit an old story idea I had conceived during middle school. I remember on my parents’ computer, I had named the original Word document “Dum Hum-Drum,” and I recalled it featured an elderly couple sitting at their kitchen table, coping with the boredom of retirement after having filled their lives with productivity and work-work-work. How would they possibly be able to grapple with “free time”? Continue reading “I Fuel the Great Blog” →

Return to Sender

April 27, 2018January 22, 2019Posted in StoriesTagged flash fiction, graduation, mail, memories, post college, remembering, short story, writer, writing1 Comment

Return to Sender by BCole

I don’t check my mail very often. In fact, the only reason I had even checked my mail that early spring day was because I was expecting a letter from the bank with my new debit card. I had lost mine a few weeks ago at a bar in Portland, along with the bracelet I was wearing and the chapstick I had in those pesky shallow romper pockets. The debit card and chapstick I could replace, inconvenient as it was, but the bracelet I was more upset about. It was a beaded one from my days in Athens; my old friend bought it for me at a flea market, from one of those vendors that doesn’t sell vintage materials but cheap accessories like flashy purses and plastic rings. She hadn’t spent more than seven dollars on it, and I watched her buy it and hand it to me, but it had sort of worn a comfortable patch of my wrist for a couple years and came to feel like a part of me.

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