Skip to main content

Author Diary April 4th, 2024

Hey Everyone,


Spring is upon on us, and Guest Writer Month is behind us! A final thank you to everyone who submitted, and I look forward to the next one! It's always exciting to know that a bunch of new eyes and brains came by to check out their friend's work, and then maybe looked at some other pieces! If you have anything you'd like to submit for next years Guest Writer Month, please feel free to reach out to me via email (rollforwriting@outlook.com). If I get enough interest and submissions, I might figure out a sooner date.


As you may now, we are now in the second anniversary month for Roll for Writing! The first written piece for the month drop this coming Saturday, but it's not the first thing to come out-- if you haven't been following this on social media, I recently also released the first Roll for Writing Presents over on the new YouTube channel, which you can go to here!


There will be new short stories every weekend for this month, and then I will be taking May off before returning in June. As I stated elsewhere, I then will be switching to a twice-a-month schedule so that I can better focus on writing material, as well as my other obligations.


On a side note, I have also done some back-end work for the blog, and have added several new pages, as well as links to my other projects such as SCPod, which I host along with my co-creator Caleb, and the previously mentioned Roll for Writing Presents.


Please poke around to see the new stuff, and hang tight for what's to come!


Thank You & Very Respectfully,


Zachariah O 

Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

[GUEST WRITER] Healer/Weapon by Nico

  General content warning: This is a piece about the crossroads of our current socio-political landscape, through the lens of the author’s upbringing and life experience.  Mentions of emotional and physical abuse, rape, religious trauma, gun violence, school shootings, racism & hate crimes, and others. Topics and themes touched on are handled respectfully, but told unflinchingly.                                         W H e a l e r       p              o                      n It’s 2005. I am being raised to be a weapon.  I’m ten, or so. They split the boys and the girls off...
Post a Comment
Read more

[Guest Writer] Gemini by Brian Rydquist

Editor's Note: This is a content warning for those sensitive to certain topics; self-harm, child loss, graphic descriptions of violence.            Sylvia bent over the lifeless bodies of the newborn infants she had just spent six hellish hours delivering. Screams of anguish poured from her diaphragm, blood soaked her nightgown from the waist down. Her husband William knelt beside her, stroking her shoulder in a futile attempt at comfort. The midwife, an elderly Inuit woman, knelt on her otherside. “Please miss,  you must lay down. Your body has suffered incredible stress, the birth was not a good one.” “My babies, my babies, this can’t be!” Sylvia shrieked, deaf to the woman’s words. “Shh, shh,” William was muttering as he rubbed her shoulders. “Maybe it won’t be, I have already sent for the spirit leader of my tribe. He should arrive any moment.” “Don’t be a fool! How dare you give my wife this false hope! You can clearly see the babie...
4 comments
Read more

[GUEST WRITER] Sandstone Legs, By Charlena Kea

sandstone legs high tunnel fog in October my mind feels far away chicken kisses in the AM I still think of you everyday just another farm girl's wishes now can you keep my winter crops warm? I'm thinking of cold blood and cracked skulls sunberry stains on my right forearm your cattle line the streets there still waiting for my passage by school explosion on the drive home half legs around the bomb stove fire just a cluster of red dots to all of them I hope one day they'll see pawns and prey and bugs alike maybe it's all we'll ever be I'm just the same as you, though soft heart but iron bones incense smoke lures me closer I'm scraped pure on sandy stones deafening when I see them hanging these hollow iron shells they let your kin bleed out there damned the rest to living hell I'll wade through murky river depths please wash my red hands clean I'm desperate, I beg you every night erase these things we've seen my likeness sells postcards on the road...
2 comments
Read more