Laura Lann
Bio
I am an author from deep East Texas with a passion for horror and fantasy, often heavily mixed together. In my spare time, when I am not writing, I draw and paint landscape and fantasy pieces. I now reside in Alaska where adventures await.
Stories (130)
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Gender and Clothing
When I was little, I used to wear a dress made of the softest hues of blue and green. It splashed around me as I twirled in rich puddles of sunshine, and it sang the purest of songs when my voice cried out to the sky in happiness. I played in it almost every day beneath deep pools of shade residing under pecan trees. It was a nice dress of soft and flowing material that complimented my bouncy personality. For me it was the most comfortable of outfits, even though I was usually in a tree or rushing after my younger brother in a wild pursuit.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Viva
Author Dreams
Waking up from bad dreams is difficult. It's a lot like waking up and peeling the mind away. It's like sleeping but never actually allowing the mind to rest. It's getting entangled in another world, another place, yet the mind only knows it as real. In my dreams last night there was thunder outside my bedroom door, lightening flashing purple, blue, and green. Ghosts awaited me an a twisting staircase. There was something more about land and people, but the dream is quickly fading. And, knowing it was an unpleasant dreams, far I can still taste the emotions it triggered, I say let it fade.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Writers
My Fair Lady
My Fair Lady is abuse, misogyny, and an alarming age gape all concealed in delightful musical numbers. Alas, despite these glaring flaws, it delights and warms the heart. Join Eliza, a poor flower girl, as she rises up in social ranking with the help of a berating phonetics professor, Henry.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Critique
HR Chronicles: Snow White
You know being HR has it's interesting days, and recent events would affirm that my job is anything but boring. Huntsmen Mineral Mines is not the worst place to work, especially given the perks -I have a new set of sapphire earrings!-, but I am a bit over the chaos. You would think it would be the incident reports and worker comp claims that did me in or even the excessive overtime to sort through on payroll. Alas, we would both be wrong. Instead, it has been the lack of work and personal life boundaries that our staff brings forth for me to sort through.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Fiction
The Lord of the Rings and Women
It changed the course of fantasy representation and story telling with beautiful scenes and compelling heroes in a traditional tale of good conquering evil. It was the story of a great quest, best friends, and war. It had everything yet still lacked strong female characters and representation. Another Bechdel failed.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Critique
Feeding the Ducks
I was writing long before I can recall scrawling words with ink. Not on paper but in oral fashion like my ancestors from long ago. I would tell elaborate stories, usually through song, to the trees in our yard or the animals at the barn. As a child, my life was a constant narrated musical of what I was doing, what I wanted, and how I was feeling. So, naturally, the first piece of writing I can remember putting to paper was an echo of a song; a poem.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Writers
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, I have Short Hair
I feel most feminine with short hair. I feel free, liberated, lightweight and energetic. Beautiful and enchanting. Yet, it has been something I have had to always justify to others. Current society still does not overall welcome shorter hairstyles on young women, even after many movements and fashion trends towards them. Even after the short hair of the 1920's and the many tomboyish trends in fashion. I cannot have short hair without someone eventually commenting on 'if it was long'.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Confessions
The Red Thread
I follow a red string down my throat, hands pulling to tug it free. I follow it down to see where it goes. I need to know its hold on me. I fold over myself and vomit from the sting as I yank on that red thread. It's woven into my being, and I think to continue would unspool me.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Psyche
