Calliope Briar
Bio
A lifelong writer with a creative writing degree.
Stories (30/0)
Critique: A Song of Ice and Fire
A testament to the belief that quantity cannot beat quality, George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire is full of details and information that bog readers down rather than contribute to worldbuilding, plot advancement, and maintaining character development instead of deciding to throw it away in the end.
By Calliope Briar8 months ago in Critique
Devil Among Us
If I had another choice—any other choice—I would take it with one simple question: when can I start? Yes, this is a life that I used to not mind so much in the past. A way to survive is a way to survive, and I’m not particular in how I survive as long as I accomplish doing so. Yet things are different now. If there was ever peace, I have a hard time remembering it. Have atrocities always been made light and comedic by the public? So much so that they sing their songs and make their games with tragedies in mind? If I bet on a horse named ‘Jack the Ripper,’ will it stop him from coming after me?
By Calliope Briar2 years ago in Fiction
One Way Trip
The lights of Xeon showed no difference regardless of how much time passed, making it difficult to tell if the train was moving. Yet she knew that wasn't the case. She felt the movement. The occasional rough patches of the train tracks as they passed over them.
By Calliope Briar2 years ago in Fiction
The Witch's Cabin
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The stories about the cabin were older than any residents living in the nearby town of Elmlock could remember, having grown up with them being recounted by older siblings, friends, family members, and any stranger who could hold the attention of the youths long enough to delve into the mysteries of the neighboring woods.
By Calliope Briar2 years ago in Fiction
Send my Love to the Bottom of the Ocean
When Roger tells me that we'll be boarding the Titanic on her maiden voyage, I haven't the slightest idea what to think. It isn't like him to splurge on luxuries like this, where they offer an experience rather than a statement that can be worn.
By Calliope Briar2 years ago in Fiction
My Freedom Comes in Quiet Breaths
Beyond my door is rubble. The dreary greys of crumbled buildings, their broken pieces covered in the dust of destruction. Once, they stood tall, and we took those moments for granted. We only appreciated their steadfast presence after we lost it. I am among the lucky ones who have walls sturdy enough to provide a roof over my head. It isn't the home I knew, but it keeps me sheltered from the elements.
By Calliope Briar2 years ago in Fiction