Minte Stara
Bio
Small writer and artist who spends a lot of their time stuck in books, the past, and probably a library.
Currently I'm working on my debut novel What's Normal Here, a historical/fantasy romance.
Stories (38/0)
What the Movies Don't Say About Adults
Helplessly facing adulthood. That's what it feels like. I'm an adult, I say. I should be able to handle this. All the job interviews, the impending driving tests, the search for a house. The money distress, the lack of support system, the loss (but not death) of all the family I've known.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Geeks
A Cat Called Psychology
My dad was the first to give in. I wouldn't call him a softy, but he certainly knew that the whole family wanted a cat. Thing was, the little black cat who'd been turning up in our yard wasn't - how to put it - strictly legal. By two standards, he wasn't supposed to be there: by our landlord's and by our mother's. We weren't supposed to have pets, and my mother was very, very allergic.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Petlife
Secret Books and Greedy Fingers
The dust clung to Theodore Dee's hand. He looked with confusion over the room, but it was hard to work out what was in it just yet. It had been closed up, hidden on his parent's wing of the house. He slowly stepped into the room, letting his hand run over another shelf. It came away with even more dust on it than it had before. He turned around, trying to discover the source of a faint light toward the back of the room. There was just enough from the doorway and somewhere else that he could work out the contents of the room. By the look of it, there weren't any windows in the room. It took him poking into a corner before Theodore noticed that a bookshelf was covering one of the windows he'd assumed weren't there. On the bookshelf were books, tons and tons of books. Thanks to his movement, there were now dust moats drifting through the air, causing him to sneeze briefly.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Fiction
Circle of Blood
There was perhaps something to be said about Edward Kelley. He didn't get bored easily. Between the general monotony of the castle and occasional letters, there were plenty of reasons that he could have been. But all those reasons were a bit lacking in fine detail or touching on what he tended to do. If anyone were to look in on him during some points of his day, they would have seen the heavy curtains drawn, a wavering fire sputtering away in the fireplace, and heard the constant scratching of a quill against parchment. But people would have only been seeing Edward Kelley at work.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Fiction
Fake it Til You Make It
"Fake it 'til you make it." Conway stared at the words until his nose wrinkled up. Then he turned the book this way and that. Upside-down. Over his nose. As if each perspective of the sentence would somehow make things clearer to him. Then he tossed the book across the bed.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Psyche
It Is Dark Here
London, England. 1583. The injury burned like someone had poured fire down the man's hip and hadn’t stopped pouring until it had reached his toes. He couldn't put any weight on the leg. Something was stopping it from healing. Whatever they had done – the man was already trying to forget the people who had attacked him – the wound remained unchanged. He paused, leaning against a crumbling wall, examining the ugly, almost-burns. There was a thin film over the wound, where oil had been rubbed into the gash in his skin. The oil clung, stinging, unwilling to come away even at the rubbing of his hand. The bastards had done this. Death befit the cruel.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Humans
The Angle of the Camera
INT. QUINN HOUSE - DAY The living room is decorated for a birthday party. PAXTON SALINAS squeezes into it, avoiding the people in the room while trying to find a quiet corner. The walls are covered in pictures taken of other family gatherings, decorated with streamers and confetti. The party theme is gold and green.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Fiction
The Faces You Wear
It wasn’t the first ball Arthur had been to. He wanted it to be the last. Affairs like this were routine, particularly when they were among the court of Queen Elizabeth. There was a lot that was expected of him, even though all Arthur had to do was be visible to the public. There was always a loose expectation that he should dance, but he never wanted to. Usually, he managed to avoid it.
By Minte Stara3 years ago in Humans