Our Write Side

Stacy Overby’s Hearing Voices

No. I’m not talking about literal voices. What I am referring to are the different voices we refer to in writing. There are two specific voices, and a few notes on style, to consider. The first is character voice, and the second is author voice. Then there is author style and editing problems to consider. …

via On Hearing Voices — Our Write Side


OWS Mafia “Caption This”

This is an image that was shared in the Our Write Side Word Mafia group as a “caption this” post. I love being able to be creative on a random que,there are pictures that are posted regularly that people can take a part in. There is no wrong or right, just imagination and creation!


The roughness of the pistols grip and the cool sensation of the trigger on his finger would be enough to send shivers down his spine, but that was not the case. He usually felt a presence, that he couldn’t explain, when his depression spiked like this. Two voices in his head could be heard, one begging him not to pick up the firearm while the other reminded him of all the reasons why he should…

B. W. Martin



This post is in response to one of the Facebook groups that I belong to called Our Write Side, from their section known as the The Darkroom. An image is posted to stimulate a short story, I suggest anyone to join the group to help stimulate your creativity.

“With years of nature’s beauty and furry exposed directly to this construct, it still stands to this very day,” Mark spoke to the two other members of his party. The temperature of the cool autumn night could be felt as his hand grazed the rough surface of the stones that formed the old fireplace.

Seated on two large logs that were cut just for such and set aside from what remains of the firewood gathered earlier that evening, Eric and Chloe listened to the words of their leader. Their darkly clothed bodies, which matched Mark’s, were wrapped in long black cloaks made from thick fabric to keep the weather off of the travelers that wore them. Even with such heavy clothing draped across the three’s bodies, only a fool would think of the group as anything but trouble.

“I hope you didn’t drag us all this way so we could sing camp songs around this fire pit.” Chloe spoke, her words dripped with sarcasm even as the melodic Elven tone was held. Long blond hair tucked behind high pointed ears pierced multiple times by various metal pieces of jewelry would give away her race to any that looked upon her; the sound of her voice could convince the blind.

“No… we won’t be.” Mark retorted in response, his muscles tensed with aggravation at the shortness of his friend’s patience. Of all those that called him a leader none he would trust more than Chloe, though the buttons she could push would drive anyone insane.

“How are you so sure there will be anything here?” Eric spoke as he rose to his feet, the sounds of his boots echoed as he made his way to the pile of firewood. Throwing a few pieces of various sizes into the fireplace, some kindling was gathered to start the fire as the suns last light lined the mountain ridge to the west of the party. Kneeling at the pit Eric’s  his hands struck at the flint, a concerned expression could be seen as eh looked up to Mark.

“After all of these years that the three of us have been together, have I ever let you two down?” A hand was placed on Eric’s shoulder as he looked from the other male to the female; the fighter’s eyes gave a flicker of blue as the rhetorical question fell from his lips. “Through the good and the bad we have prospered…”

“You talk too much.” Chloe said as she stood to her feet, her green eyes scan the human standing before her. “You keep talking about how far we have come, what great things we will be able to accomplish.” Gentle touches of her fingertips trace the metal hilt of a dagger, hidden behind the black fabric around her waist.

“All of these years as you bring up, we have struggled to survive. Moving from place to place, we do not establish anything. Odd jobs or Eric’s fast hands stealing coin purses from the rich is what keep us alive!” The rouge lashed out at Mark verbally with her eyes locking onto his as no signs of fear or shame could be seen, though within she knew that a simple swipe of a sword with his power could lay her into two halves. She had seen him do such more than one time with several of those having saved her very own life.

Eric’s work on the tender and flint bring life to the flames before him, tossing larger pieces of wood onto the fire he shakes his head as he speaks. “It’s a combination of all three of our skills that keep us going and together we soon will be at Crows Peak.” Warming his hands with the new flames that continue to grow he speaks with a bit of cheer in his tone. “We have a job waiting us there, the thieves guild would not request me to return unless it was something of importance.”

Mark nods understandingly as he listened to his friend before speaking, “We should get some rest tonight and leave early if we wish to arrive there before the sun falls behind the mountains tomorrow.” Lowering himself to the ground his back rests upon the stones of the fireplace, “I’ll take first watch…”