I used to be able to write whatever, whenever. I’d write every day. It was freeing. Satisfying. Cathartic. And it still is—sometimes. But it takes a lot more work to get there now.
Author: alexis
Apologetic Space Worm
Please do forgive me,I’m a worm in space,caught amongst the stars,the void is my place.I do therefore say,with much sad regret,it was by mistake,your ship, I digest.
Choose Your Own Murderer
I’m excited to introduce a new idea, so let’s see how this goes! I want to tell a “Choose Your Own Adventure” story with you, my reader. Except in this version, it will be a “Choose Your Own Murderer” story. How it works: Every couple of weeks (or as often as I can manage), I will…
Book Reviews of My Latest Reads (Jan-Mar 2025)
Greetings, fellow readers! Here’s a quick-fire list of the recent books I’ve read (in a range of genres), with recommendations and honourable mentions.
Fantasy Character Cocktail Recipes
Mixology for the Meandering Magician My Fantasy Comedy novel, “The Reluctant Mentor”, is a satire about the heroes’ journey from the perspective of a failed mentor named Athragast. I’m currently querying agents for the project, but I wanted to share a taste (ha, get it? Because I’m sharing recipes?) of the story. Want to see…
Find Me on Substack
I’m now on substack! Subscribe to me there to get the latest news, blogs, short stories, fantasy-inspired cocktail recipes and more. https://alexisveenendaalauthor.substack.com
In a Dream
She turned, the air rushing past her, the ground coming closer. Ever closer. Blackness, rushing up. Seconds. A heartbeat in her ears.
Stories
You’re a girl. Young. No more than five or six. You sit on the floor, legs tucked under you. Mom perches on the couch, a blanket on her lap because she’s always cold. She props the hardcover book in one hand and holds it aloft like a prize. The cover has a sheen to it;…
Strut.
I am the Ruler of the day and night. In the darkness, I creep. I find my prey: Little pink, hairless paws.
Little Creature
From an exercise in my writing course… The cry is anguished, inhuman, such a painfully lonely sound in that single note – enough that Perry and I stop to listen, panting. An animal. Hurt, by the sounds of it. The sky has paled to a cold purplish haze, the last dipping rays of the dying sun…