Fiction Commons^™

The Sand In The Glass: A Journey Through The Writing Process, Cory Wentworth

Senior Honors Projects

“At one time I thought the most important thing was talent. I think now that — the young man or the young woman must possess or teach himself, train himself, in infinite patience, which is to try and to try and to try until it comes right.”

—William Faulkner on writing

Storytelling is one of the oldest traditions and forms of entertainment in the history of the human race. Whether through oral storytelling, wall paintings, or the written word, storytelling may be as old as language itself. I yearn to be a part of this history and to have my …

Cascadia Don't Fall Apart, John Lewis Englehardt

Graduate Theses and Dissertations

This short story collection explores the tenuousness of relationships--both romantic and familial--against the backdrop of Washington State's regional identity. These stories feature tsunami debris washing up on the peninsula, a biologist combating wetland violations in Olympia, a funerary artist in Seattle, young lovers attempting to be sexually explorative, a young man so befuddled by college graduation that he joins the infantry, and an adult son attempting to comfort his sick father.

Archaeology, Adrienne Westenfeld

A Midwestern Review: A Magazine of the Arts and Issues at DePauw University

No abstract provided.

Heart Trouble, Emily Hancock

A Midwestern Review: A Magazine of the Arts and Issues at DePauw University

No abstract provided.

Chai Latte, Qurratul Prima

A Midwestern Review: A Magazine of the Arts and Issues at DePauw University

No abstract provided.

Lord Of The Dance, Theresa Carper

A Midwestern Review: A Magazine of the Arts and Issues at DePauw University

No abstract provided.

A More Perfect World, Amy Katherine Mayo

UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones

A More Perfect Worldis the story of Gabriel Garcia Levine Connolly, an intelligent, charismatic, and idealistic man who invents "Thing," which quickly becomes indispensable to virtually everyone in the world. His new-found wealth presents him with the opportunity to create a community that suits his values and his creative process, taking several friends and co-workers with him. Their search for a new home leads them to the idyllic island of Luu Saabhel; for Gabe, the opportunity to protect this small island and its indigenous people while creating "a more perfect world" for his own community is the ideal situation.

The …

Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear, Jean Ho

UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones

The short stories in this collection move between two women, Fiona and Jane, who were close friends as teenagers but drift apart in their twenties. The women find each other again, later in life, and ease into an unsettled truce. As a writer I am interested in questions of gender and sexuality, race and ethnicity; in these stories, I have tried to explore the intersections of these identities through Fiona and Jane's lives in Los Angeles and New York, and the histories of their families in Taiwan.

Mariposas, Lea L. Downing

Ellipsis: A Journal of Art, Ideas, and Literature

No abstract provided.

Other Cousins, Jasmine Angel

Ellipsis: A Journal of Art, Ideas, and Literature

No abstract provided.

Mermaid, Robin Baudier

Ellipsis: A Journal of Art, Ideas, and Literature

No abstract provided.

Volume 10, Issue 1: Full Issue

Manuscripts

Full issue of the November 1942 issue of Manuscripts. Includes work by: Patricia Sylvester, Lucy Kaufman, Richard Moores, Janet Jarrett, Mary Margarette Schortemeier, Virginia Skidmore, Jeanne Gass, Jeane Siskel, Bob Dyer, Thomas Haynes, William Roberts, Nancy Rodecker, Doris Daley, W. S. McLean, Peggy O'Donnell, Dorothy Masters, Ann Holloway, Dick Runnels, Lois Jean Shipley, Mary Elizabeth Donnell, Don Griffith, and Betty Alice Hodson.

Excerpts

Manuscripts

Excerpts from freshman themes by authors:Robert Mann, Robert Holcomb, Helen Wells, Evelyn Petersen, Donald Morgan, Clara May Masterson, and Mary Elizabeth Donnell.

I Like To Meet People, Betty A. Hodson

Manuscripts

I like to meet people of all kinds - old or young, famous or unknown, well-educated or illiterate, brilliant or stupid, good or bad, Negro or Chinese, foreign or American. They are all needed to make up this world in which we live, so why not get to know them? One can enjoy living much better if he knows those with whom he associates. There are so many interesting people to meet that I know I shall never tire of meeting them.

How To Amuse A Younger Sister, Don Griffin

Manuscripts

Amusement for a younger sister depends upon her age. Suppose she is just ten months. There's not much to do for her when she cries except carry her about the house and change her diaper. But that isn't very amusing.

A few months later she will be delighted to yank on your hair, poke your eyes, or grab for your spectacles.

When she begins to walk, she will find many things to be amused with around the house. There will probably be broken lamps, torn clothing and paper, and many things damaged. You will not be required to do more …

Heaven, Hell, Or Earth, Mary E. Donnell

Manuscripts

Since my first days in the Cradle Roll Department of Sunday School, the merits of the bad place against the good place have been impounded upon my mind. In my childish fancy heaven represented a place where everyone wore water wings, balanced embroidery hoops on their heads, and sat all day on cloud tufts eating water melons. This connotation was no doubt derived from the picture Green Pastures. One of my first thoughts about heaven was that it would be very boring with everyone so good. I" had never heard of night in heaven and wondered if the angels …

Evening At Juniper Knoll, Lois J. Shipley

Manuscripts

Oh, the glory of it all! The sun was a magnificant ball of flame as it descended low in the heavens. Small fluffy clouds of gold floated around the huge flaming ball, but kept their distance as though there was some fear of it. Occasionally, a graceful swallow Hew across, lending his profile to the glory of the heavens, and the cry of night birds as they took to flight gave the woods that necessary note of evening time. As I strolled through the woods, the sticks crackled beneath my feet and one little squirrel in the tree top took …

The Three Most Quiet Things I Ever Knew, Dick Runnels

Manuscripts

In these turbulent, noisy days, I sometimes like to stop and think of the peaceful, the quiet things in my life. As a child, I suppose the most quiet things I knew were the great, silent hills of our farm. How often have I romped and scurried over/ these hills, independent of all restraint'! Or how often have I wandered aimlessly through their protecting shadows while pondering my boyish problems? Always their vast silence offered no opposition to my mood, Like friendly old men, they sat about watching me grow, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, but always quietly understanding.

Three Silent Things, Ann Holloway

Manuscripts

Things that cause the eardrum to vibrate are relatively unimportant in the Universe. Nature's thunder, the boom of the cannon on the battlefield, or man-made machinery in operation create sound, but the very fact that they do so has no bearing on their significance in the world. Trees, wind, stupendous buildings, books, music, and art possess audibility or visibility, but these objects and elements in themselves are meaningless. The silent, intangible factors that allow the trees to exist, the wind to blow, or the artist to paint are the foundations on which the plan of creation is laid.

Rhapsody In Hue, Dorothy Masters

Manuscripts

Always, wherever I am, when I smell wood smoke, a blanket of color waves before my eyes. I can taste the crisp, juicy apples bought at a crude roadside stand and sold by a toothless 'hill-billy' and his apron clad wife or tousled-headed children. I see the brilliant orange of bittersweet clinging to the fence posts, and I can see each article in the antique shops - especially the spinning wheel and trundle bed and the corn-cob dolls with their hooped-skirts. I see fields of corn stripped of their harvest, standing tiredly, waiting, bearing no resemblance to the proud tall-tassled …

Infant Climbs A Mountain, Peggy O'Donnell

Manuscripts

Ever since they'd left New England behind to come west, Infant had been excited; there had been so many things to see, all new and different. At first she had thought that Indiana would be like it was in her first grade reader; that they'd live in a log cabin, that she'd wear a coonskin cap and deerskin breeches just like Dan'l Boone, (only smaller, because Infant was only six) and that there would be real live Indians with tomahawks. Mother had explained that that had been a long time ago, and that Indiana now was just like New England. …

Peace Through Prayer, W. S. Mclean

Manuscripts

As far back as he could remember he had been afraid of storms. Back there in the early years, some member of the family had set the pace of fear when a storm came. There was an old belief - probably a superstition - that if one sat on a feather bed, lightning wouldn't strike. Anyway, there was a general migration to the bedrooms during a storm. Mother became nervous if the storm was severe, and sister would have a fit of trembling. Brother made a vain show of bravery, which only intensified the uneasiness. All through his seventeen years …

Solliloquy, Doris Daley

Manuscripts

The northern day was drawing to a close, and as I watched the sun slide down behind multi-colored clouds, its satellite rays trailing after, it seemed that with it went something of the human quality of this earth, leaving me alone in the presence of the unknown.

Standing topside in the prow, I could look down and watch the slender ship cut the never-ending swells. On either side, the smooth hull sent the backwash sliding along its sides, crested with foam at first, and gradually spiralling out into shining ripples amidships, all the while roaring like a hungry beast. But …

Snowfall, Nancy Rodecker

Manuscripts

Dusk was enveloping the city when the first tiny flakes began to fall. I remember looking through my bedroom window and noticing that the naked redbud outside was clothed in a powdery robe of snow that lent it a fragile and ghostly air. Since first snowfalls had always interested me, I curled up in an easy chair and viewed the frosty process from the warmth of my room. Outside, the atmosphere was brittle and clear. The bitter wind of the day had retired for the night, and the snow sifted through the trees in an unbroken pattern, as if it …

Why Americans Like Baseball, William Roberts

Manuscripts

On Monday afternoon two weeks ago, men who were at home sat glued to their comfortable chairs beside a radio; people who were in the business sectors crowded around radios on the sidewalk in front of stores; college students carried portable radios with them; sailors were standing near short wave sets on ships at sea; and soldiers on distant battle fronts gathered around short wave radio sets also, while 70,000 lucky people were able to crowd into Yankee Stadium.

The Influence Of The War On Me, Thomas Haynes

Manuscripts

'Wars wreck everything. A happy home, a lover's dream, a commercial manager's contract, and even politicians' plans suffer from the dire consequence of war. War, inevitable war, has broken, shaped, and reshaped maps and men's lives since the dawn of man.

In 1942, this day, I look with apprehension upon this world of conflict, and wonder (with no less apprehension) what will become of me. I had plans, yes. I've done my share of dreaming. I've even earned a large share of money at one time or another. I've seen a bit of the world. I've gained a considerable amount …

Aptitude Tests, Bob Dyer

Manuscripts

One of the ,devices most commonly used by universities to overawe incoming freshmen and to make them conscious of the tremendous amount of knowledge connected with the institution, is the college aptitude test. The test, presumably, is to serve as a key to the student's ability along various lines. How this purpose is served remains a mystery to the poor subject. The average college freshman cannot see how such a garbled mass of nothing can lead his instructors to a better understanding of his educational needs.

D Minor, Jean Siskel

Manuscripts

With stealthy passion
The music filled the room,
Brushing with mystic melody
His throbbing heart.

Outside the stony window frames
Were trees,
Rustling excitedly,
Bowing with frantic grace.

Do trees have hearts? Can they too
Feel the stirring touch of tone?
For trees, there is wind;
For men, music.

On Nantucket Sound, Lucy Kaufman

Manuscripts

Do you recall the morning on Nantucket Sound
when white wind whipped our sails against the August sun,
when we stood tanned and laughing, loving the sea, and bound
for any port or none?

Do you recall that out from the tiny towns which lay
along the coast, came salty strangers seeking cod,
tanned and laughing as we, plundering the bay
with net and fishing rod?

Do you recall that when the west waxed pink again
homeward we turned the tiller, and as we came around
with sails set full for shore, lights flashed from a world forgotten
on Nantucket …

The Blue Pincushion, Jeanne Gass

Manuscripts

With a flourish of the shiny old shears, Dora snipped the last coupon from the latest copy of the Ladies Home Journal. She pushed the magazine aside and made a neat little pile of the slips of paper. She breathed a sigh of pure, undiluted bliss. Her soft white hands fluttered over the papers, almost tenderly. Her lips formed the numbers silently as she counted the coupons with all the eagerness of a miser.