Nov 09
22donam's picture

This guy asked me to join his club

"Mate, this guy just asked me yesterday if I wanted to join his club."

"Woah, what'd ya say?"

"Well obviously I asked him what it was about, you know?"

"Don't tell me it was some kinda cult or somethin' freaky like that."

"Geez no, he said it was a book club."

"Oh yeah? Sounds chill."

"And then I asked him if you could come, cause I thought you would love to go."

"Aww that's sweet."

"But then this jerk is like "No way your friend's got issues" 





"Haha oml, thanks for that"

"No problem mate, anyone that's got beef with you has got beef with me"
Oct 19

The Jump

The Jump
My feet crunched the snow as my thick boots led me toward the hill. It was mid-winter, a warmer day than most, and the tramping was making my forehead sweat. My friend Clementine was ahead of me, my short legs and puffy snowsuit weighing me down-and slowing me down. Finally, I reached the top of the hill. I sat down, not caring if my butt got wet or not. Mindlessly, my mittens picked up a ball of snow and packed it evenly. This was the best packing snow of the winter. It was the perfect mixture of wet and fluffy, a combination rare at least to Vermont. Judson, another friend, was thinking the same thing.
Dec 05

Ten Days of Winter, 1892

Editor's note: In the 11+ years of this site, I have shared only a couple of things on the belief that this is your site, not mine. But I am sharking this because, well, becaue I thought you might like to read/listen to it and, also, to see that some stories take a long time to develop. I'd love some feedback -- this is your chance! :) 

I wrote this piece of fiction for Winter Tales 2017 and it was presented by Vermont Stage in its shows Dec. 6-10, 2017 at FlynnSpace. (It also was going to be presented at a similar winter story show in East Montpelier on Dec. 16.)

Audio download:
Feb 13

The House

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)
Feb 13

The Pendant

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)

The old iron bell jangles as I step into the familiar shop. I wave to the owner, a kindly old gentleman, who smiles at me as he always does and says hello. He seems to appreciate my visits, even though I don't often buy anything. 

I make my way through a maze of old bookshelves and chairs, paintings, vases and other miscellaneous objects. I know almost all of it by memory and can tell whenever the store has sold something. 
Mar 08
fiction 1 comment challenge: Morals

At the Gates of Angband

Fingolfin hesitated, standing there before the immense doors that rose far above him.

WhyWhy am I here? This is madness.

And it was madness, for once news came to Hithlum that Dorthonion was lost and the sons of Finarfin overthrown, and that the sons of Feanor were driven from their lands, Fingolfin jumped upon his horse and rode across Dor-nu-Fauglith alone. So crazed was he that none, Elf nor Orc, could stop him from approaching Angband. Thus, he made it across the scarred land and to the very entrance of the great fortress. And now he stood there in disbelief at the last moment. 

How could I sacrifice myself when so many died for their King, for me?

Mar 08
fiction 0 comments challenge: City
Peter Gustafson's picture

Country mouse

Matthias Maier, YWP Contest Week #27 City 

ADL, Essex Junction, Age 11
Mar 08
Peter Gustafson's picture

What a Future!

 Amaya judge 12 years old, Essex junction 

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to see your future well...? One day when Emily was walking down the hallway she opened her white oak door and stumbled over falling down a dark black pit. Finally, Emily thought to herself but it was not getting any better because she was just in an all white room or maybe it was a box? she felt like she was in an asylum all she needed was a straitjacket covering her upper body. About five minutes passed and then Emily kind of thought she might be going crazy, how is this possible she thought what am I going to do and her thoughts went on, until she thought about if she was going to be stuck in this white box forever what will my mom think when I don’t show up for dinner. 
Mar 08

The Challenge

The knot in my stomach tightens. With each step, it twists, turns, flips, and springs. I have to stop and take a deep breath. Then another. Another. It doesn't help. I contemplate turning back. If I do, I'll have to endure more of it. Not an option. I step forward, walking in. I see them. I can't talk. I can't breath. I can't do this.
Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Running in the woods

Shay Mendes 11 

Albert D. Lawton

YWP week # 29 Critter


Running in the woods

Alone with fear 
Stuck in shape that lies uncapable

  Of keeping your  insides safe 

Unhappy but free 

Scared but of fear 

Build up of running until your free

Of your very own self …

Foam at the mouth of your predator 

Your heart races of fear 

Though you love the fear 

 The utter excitement of running 

The wind in your fur 

It’s almost like music 

Humming to you as you run

You beginning climbing 

You’re free now 

Alone with freedom

The good kind of freedom

The kind that makes you dizzy with anticipation 

Of doing whatever you please 

You glide from tree to tree 

 The  softness of safety 

The love of being cozy 
Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

A Polar Bears Point of View

A Polar Bears Point of View

I am so hungry

I just want some food

The seals have gone

Cause the waters too warm

I’m here on this small piece of ice

Floating away and starving

Because most of these people 

Keep putting poison into our atmosphere

Not caring that it will hurt them too


Not so far

They will see how taking 

That extra second

To do the right thing

Not whats easier

Could change


But right now

I am just so 


I will soon have to go into their town 

To find something to eat 

But they will be scared

Maybe even hurt me.

I don’t know what to do 

I just want something to eat

I just want people to understand how much better

Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Just another dream!

Hello. My name is Olivia. I live in Colorado! I love snowboarding. And this is my story… I have lived through a lot, even though I am only ten years old. But all my experiences have really taught me that I am different and I always will be, but they also taught me that because I’m different I can do things that no one else could even imagine doing.
Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Unknown door

Unknown Door

Every day, I walk. But today was different.

I walked into a door. A door labeled:


I went in, and was shocked at what I saw.

It looked like a desert after war.

Rubble everywhere.

There was no sign of life besides myself.

I walked around for a while. 

Thinking about climate change,



trash being disposed in the ocean, and everywhere.

I was just starting to put the pieces together,

when I saw it.

The sign labeling where I am.

The sign that made my knees weak,

my heart skip about four beats,

and made sweat roll down my back.

Because the sign said:

Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Polar Bear extinction?

I’m a polar bear who loves the snow, I also love eating Ringed seals but it has been hard the past few years. We don’t have enough food to eat. A lot of my family members have died because of starvation. This all started 11,700 years ago.

The hottest day recorded was 134°F on July 10, 1913, at the Greenland Ranch in the Death Valley. Global warming has us driving to extinction. My friends, family, relatives, and many other polar bears could become nearly extinct by the end of the century as a result of shrinking sea ice in the Arctic if global warming continues unabated. I’m very grateful for “WWF” because they are actually doing something about the extinction of us polar bears. Things they have done for us is that they are working around the Arctic to rescue a future for us. 

I hope there are going to be many other companies that will do something about the climate.

Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Switched while shopping

Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Alicia and I switch

I woke up in a body that I recognized. It was my best friend's body. It was scary at first but then I realized that I could live a different life for however long this body swap is. I  live in a life that my parents have given me. I am truly grateful for the life I have but I have never had to work for anything I had unless you count my grades but I don't think that counts as much. But when I look at Alicia's life she works for everything she has. She is an independent woman and she is the woman I want to be.

I got a text from Alicia or well myself and she told me that she woke up in my body and I told her that I woke up in her body. It was scary for the most part but we both agreed that this is temporary and we both should try new lifestyles for once so I set off for my first day in my new life.
Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

Just perch

“Hey Dave,” said Larry. “Come here!,”Larry yelled! It was a giant northern pike!  “You know we are just perch, that pike will kill us with one big chomp!,” I said, very concerned. It was swimming around in the deeper part of the weed bed. “What's going on!?,” Bucky shouted. “We found a northern pike,” Larry said excitedly! “Why are you so excited about a pike, remember we are the prey,” Bucky said concerned. Larry was pretty young so he wouldn't know better, I thought it was ok for Larry to be interested in pike. “Come on guys! Let's go get some breakfast,” said Bucky happily.

We swam to the really shallow part of the weed bed looking for mysida shrimp and crayfish. Larry spotted a big crayfish. “There's breakfast,” Larry shouted. We all attacked the huge crayfish. We were all so hungry so we gobbled it down in a flash. We were all heading back home when we realized that the pike was gone!  
Mar 07
fiction 0 comments challenge: City
Peter Gustafson's picture

New York City

I have barely ever been outside of the state of Vermont. Only once or twice. That’s why when my parents told me we were moving to New York City in two months, I almost fainted. My Dad's company was moving to New York, and my parents wanted to move there before school started, so that's how I’m stuck in a car, shoved between suitcases and boxes for a six hour drive to stinky New York City. 

“Were here!” my Mom said as we drove into Manhattan.  It was so different. Everything was all squished together in buildings that seemed like they were 300 stories high.  I couldn't stop looking out the window.  We drove past restaurants, coffee shops, and even Central Park. “Pretty cool huh, Dawn” my mom said.

     “I guess it’s alright.”  I said trying not to sound too impressed.  This place is great, but it just doesn't feel like home. 
Mar 07
Peter Gustafson's picture

I am a falcon

I am a falcon, I am returning to the ledge that I call home just as I  have done  every night for almost six weeks now. Soon it will be time to leave, the eyass will  be grown and fly away. As I near the nest I hear the eyass chirping, asking for the rabbit that I carry in my talons. I drop it near them and the fresh meat is pounced on eagerly. I watch as they fight over the food then after waiting a second more, break them apart and split it between them. This is how every day of the last 6 weeks has ended. As I settle down in a tree nearby I hear them chirping.
Mar 06

Counting up again

     A daughter arranges sympathy cards on the mantle, changing places, angles, trying to make them fit. We’re sorry for your loss. With sympathy. Our thoughts are with you.
     Thoughts, words, too many of them printed in store bought colors on grocery aisle cardstock, too many superficial, no matter how heartfelt they were intended to be. 
     All of them wrong.
     There should have been something. Should have been closure. 
     There should have been a funeral.
     Her father had wanted a funeral. He’d given her song requests, told her which relatives to force onto the dance floor, made her promise there would be strawberry pie. It should have been out in the sunshine, should have been healing, should have been together. Instead, his heart had stopped in a stark and lonely hospital, and they had all stayed in their homes, made tearful phone calls, emptied wine bottles by themselves in the dark.