Kristen Renee
Bio
Kristen Renee
Writer of poems, short stories, and soon a novel.
Six "Editor's Choice Awards" (1997-2011)
Published in the Library of Congress
Bachelor's Degree in English
Master's Degree in Business Administration
Collector of Books
Stories (68/0)
Potluck
When I was in 7th grade my dad worked in San Bernardino at a place called Sinclair Paint. He sold paint to companies, as well as the average person. Around this time a lot of businesses in San Bernardino were going out of business. This caused a bunch of empty buildings and warehouses in the blocks surrounding my dad’s work.
By Kristen Renee2 years ago in Families
The Eager Emu
I should start by saying that this story is as sad as it is funny. It was over twenty years ago, back when I lived in California with my mom and dad. I was at the end of middle school maybe the beginning of high school, so 8th to 9th grade. My mom worked a Monday through Friday job while my dad had a weekday off, so he worked Saturday.
By Kristen Renee2 years ago in Families
ECHO MEADOWS
SMACK! Kimber Ross' hand hit the alarm with force. She rolled out of her queen size bed and fumbled down the narrow hallway trying not to knock any pictures off the walls. The cold oak hardwood flooring sent chills up her spine, as it did every morning. Passing through the living room, she wished she had carpet. Once in the kitchen she looked at the dishes in the sink, "not this morning," she thought, "no time." After starting the coffee and waiting for the smell to start filling the cabin, she headed for the shower. The coffee would be done brewing by the time she was ready to go.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Fiction
Dream Fuel
Night, night, story time was great when I was little. My mormor (grandma) read to me every night. Since my mormor and I took turns picking books I was fortunate to hear a variety of stories, fables, and nursery rhymes. Finding a story that I didn’t enjoy was few and far between but my mormor was shocked by my favorite “story” book(s) were a set; or so I thought. As I grew up I learned that “A Light in the Attic,” “Falling Up,” and “Where the Sidewalk Ends” are not a set; they aren’t even story books. They are all poetry collections written by Shel Silverstein.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Poets
2085
Bex Meere woke up early to the heat, like every other day for as long as she could remember. She stretched out on her cot before putting her thin pale feet on the sandy ground. Bex was 5’ 6” with deep red hair and freckles all over. Freckles that seemed brighter when Bex was excited. You see, she had celebrated her fifteenth birthday just two days earlier and that meant she was no longer a child and could now leave the safety of her home, the mine.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Fiction
Breathing Books Because Beauty is Bound
What’s my passion, you ask? Books!!! Not just reading books but, all things book; including writing them. You see, when I was a little girl my Mormor (grandma) read to me almost every night. She read everything from Shel Silverstein to William Shakespeare to me. As I grew up I began reading all the books in the house, which was a lot. Looking back, I think I was drawn to books because there was less and less pictures the older I got; this meant my imagination could play out the scenes. No offense to Hollywood but sometimes they don’t properly convert a book to the silver screen.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Humans
Every Book Needs a Mark!!!
When I craft I make bookmarks. This craft brings me so much joy because I love books, so much so, that I have turned my office into an at home library. I am currently chasing my dream of writing and publishing books so when writers block hits or I just can’t handle sitting at the computer I make bookmarks.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Lifehack
Mormor, Hear Me Roar!
I would have to say that my Mormor, which is Swedish for grandma, is the person that I give credit to for me being me. My Mormor’s name was Lillian. She was about five feet tall and what I like to call pleasantly plump. She wore glasses with pink frames and her grey hair was always tightly permed. The brace that went from foot to thigh on her right leg clicked as she walked. I always knew when she was going somewhere because of the click. The thought of that click always makes me smile. Then my brain goes right to her perfume, ahh, lavender.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Families
Creepy but Interesting
Like most people I take personal issue with spiders. I am absolutely terrified of anything that has more than four legs. Yep, you guessed it, that means: spiders, scorpions, beetles, millipedes, and centipedes. The shocking thing is that I have no issue what so ever with tarantulas; I even nursed a tarantula with a broken leg when I was about six years old.
By Kristen Renee3 years ago in Petlife