Melissa Kuipers von Lande
Bio
Melissa aspires to inspire. She believes the world can always use more joy and wants to help spread it through her stories, articles, and poems.
Stories (10)
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Dance School
Please note: Names have been changed as this is a true story based on personal experiences. There is no consensus on whether Ballet is a sport or an art, though many agree it adheres to some criteria of both. Like many other girls, I donned a baby pink leotard and wrap cardigan at four years old. I remember feeling miffed at having to wear a green sparkly dress instead of a pink one during the end-of-year show. But it was neither the aesthetic requirements nor the physical demands which persuaded me to give it up. By the time I was five or six, I dreamed of competing at the Olympics as a gymnast. That dream didn’t last long. Three years later I was taking junior drama classes at Helen O’Grady’s instead, followed by horse riding lessons, singing with the school choir, and cheerleading. I was your quintessential jack-of-all-trades. Every time I swapped to a new hobby, I felt it would be the one. It turns out dating extracurricular activities can leave you feeling as insecure as traditional dating. Was there something wrong with me? Why couldn’t I find something I liked and commit to it? At fourteen, I came back to where it all began, Ballet.
By Melissa Kuipers von Landeabout a year ago in Motivation
Editing-phobia and how to overcome it
Note: This advice is only my opinion. Staring at a blank piece of paper, digital or physical, can be one of the most daunting aspects of writing. But staring at a document full of words you know you need to edit can be even worse.
By Melissa Kuipers von Lande3 years ago in Motivation
Fledgling
Kathrét crouched on trembling limbs. She peered through her inner eyelids at the frantic, wriggling clump of soft claws. The tiny creature had neither scales nor fur, just as Vern had described them. Her own scales hardened at the sight of the pudgy worm groping its way around the tree trunk on the edge of the clearing. Kathrét heaved her weight onto her front feet, taking care not to move them off the platform. If she were to step off the platform…the thought flickered through her chest. If she did, she would be sucked straight down, deep below the soil scattered with oak leaves, below the gritty crust from which she had temporarily projected an invisible landing platform. Dragons left no trace on Belanian soil. They flew over Belan only when travelling to or from the island of Ilantia, their funeral ground.
By Melissa Kuipers von Lande3 years ago in Fiction
