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 (128)
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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
Thuds on the Roof
There’s something on the roof. Clipping. Clopping. I hear it step and step. The sun has just set and the world is still the hazy blue before it turns black. The trees are blots of ink against the clouds, no stars out, and no eternal night quite in place. It walks across the way, over to the bay window to my left. It sounds large and heavy. It’s pipes I will to myself. But I know there are no pipes in the roof. They are all underneath, in the crawl space that I keep locked and latched. It’s thumps continue, then stop. I glance to the window. Will a man leep from my roof and run away into the approaching dark? Will some wild animal leap free? We have a number of them.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Horror
Men's Monster
My therapist used to tell me I was retelling my abuse over and over in my writing. That I was analyzing the plight I faced with myself and with my father from a million different 'what ifs'. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I am. It's funny how trauma imprints so hard on you that you can trace its footsteps back to your childhood. When I was a kid, I invented reasons for it. I fancied that surely if he was a monster, it was because there was monster blood deep within him. Now, as an adult, I understand that abuse does run through families in a viscous cycle, not unlike the monster blood I envisioned. So here is the story a nine year old girl told herself for why men did evil things to people.
By Laura Lann2 years ago in Fiction
