What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information


Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Transition – Lillian Morpork

Transition – Lillian Morpork

He paused at the gate in the dilapidated fence, staring up at the old house. Once, it had been his home, a happy place, full of love and laughter. Now it was dark, empty, haunted, and something in it was calling to him. Taking a deep breath, he opened the gate and stepped through. His feet made soft clicking sounds on the weed grown bricks of the path, and the steps creaked as he climbed to the rickety front porch.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

"The Dance of Death" PART 5 (the end) by Llola Lane

"The Dance of Death" PART 5 (the end) by Llola Lane

The faces melt and fade
Death has tricked me again
Grandma and Grandpa are NOT with me
They will have to wait to see me dance
I am NOT home

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Nightmare - a triolet - by Lillian Morpork

Ghouls and ghosts and dancing bones
Fill my fearful dreams at night.
I toss and turn, oh hear my groans!
Ghouls and ghosts and dancing bones.
A gentle hand shakes, wakens me,
To free me from my awful plight,
Of ghouls and ghosts and dancing bones
That fill my fearful dreams at night.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

"The Dance of Death" PART 4 by Llola Lane

"The Dance of Death" PART 4 by Llola Lane

Deaths' hand is white
It gently touches me
Death IS an angel
I am not afraid
Death holds me close

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Wizard of the Wasteland - by Lillian Morpork

Wizard of the Wasteland,
Enigmatic shape changer,
Head and heart and eyes and hands,
To yourself a stranger.

Inside and Deep Down by Relay Caedmon

Inside and Deep Down by Relay Caedmon

Slowly the darkness that surrounded her slowly vanished and she could see a small part of wood in front of her. Her eyes followed the cracks in the wood up to a corner, left the corner over to another corner on the opposite side. "Wait!!!" her blood almost froze when she realized that she was inside a coffin, "why why can i see its dark but i can still see!!"

Saturday, February 11, 2012

"The Dance of Death" PART 3 by Llola Lane

"The Dance of Death" PART 3 by Llola Lane

Have I escaped death?
or am I just asleep?
I still see myself dancing
I can't stop
Is death still waiting for me?

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The Girl with the Plastic Smile PART 2 by SweetTrinityBaby Resident

The Girl with the Plastic Smile PART 2 by SweetTrinityBaby Resident

The rest of the way to work, all she could think about was this strange man and how her body had felt when it collided with his and the energy or electricity that had engulfed her being. His touch to hers was so fast, but seemed to have stopped time. In a sense it had shifted her whole universe. Susan could only think of how she wanted more of his touch and to see his distant face that had seemed so cold, but had to have held some kind of life to bring forth such power.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Svenius, a Roman Tragedy, Part two by Zhu Juran

Svenius, a Roman Tragedy, Part two by Zhu Juran
(with apologies to Anonymous)
thanks to Tami Meredith for technical assistance!


Our story thus far:

Svenius, a Roman slave of the House of Jura, is on the run for the crime of “defiling” the Vestal Virgin Lilliana; she is on the run with him. Svenius’ master, Dominus Waynium, has promised Lilliana’s father, Consul Insatius Morporcium Magnus, that he will find Svenius and Lilliana, and bring them both back so that she may be buried alive and Svenius tortured and thrown from the Tarpian Rock. They must be found and brought back or the entire Ludus will be burned, and all within crucified.

Dem Bones, Dem Bones part two - by lillian Morpork

The phone rang a third time and David lifted it. “Hello,” he said. Mary’s frantic voice filled his ear. “Mother is missing! I had to go out for an hour, leaving her with Becky, the nurse. When I got home, I looked at her chair by the window, and she wasn’t there. I called Becky and asked if Mother was in bed. She said no, she had been sitting in the chair as usual and Becky went up to make the bed. When she came down, she went right to the kitchen to make tea, and had only just found that Mother was gone, when I got here. Please, please, come and help search! She is not safe outside alone!”

Monday, February 6, 2012

Paris - L'Exposition 1900 by Mika Gigamon

Paris - L'Exposition 1900 by Mika Gigamon

Baron Faustus Moreau was vexed by the death of his unborn progeny. To have one of his consorts turn upon him in such an irritating and rudely inconsiderate act was something to which he was not accustomed. Her manners were reproachable, her attitude obnoxious, and her subservience virtually non-existent. It was time to move on from the colonial backwaters of New York to a world where his toys were better bred. Thus, the Dark One turned his attentions to the elegance of the old country. He cast his gaze upon the most majestic of cities and voyaged east by clipper ship on a mid-September passage. It was the turn of the century and time to return to his homeland.

Friday, February 3, 2012

"The Dance of Death" PART 2 by Llola Lane

"The Dance of Death" PART 2 by Llola Lane

Suddenly I feel pain
the dance is not over
Death looks at me in shock
it's grip lets go.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

"The Dance of Death" by Llola Lane

"The Dance of Death" by Llola Lane

Lights flash all about me
I am hypnotized
Calling me deeper into unconsciousness.

"The Girl with the Plastic Smile" by SweetTrinityBaby Resident

"The Girl with the Plastic Smile" by SweetTrinityBaby Resident

Opening her eyes she pinched herself to see if the numbness was still there. Susan knew it would be, but she was just hoping that some how or some way the pain would leave during the night. Susan had been though more pain then most in her short life and had learned how to numb out most of it. But, from all her avoiding and numbing, she had almost completely died inside. Although, her heart was beating and she was breathing, no one looking at her could tell just how cold, dark, and lonely she had become inside. Susan felt trapped in a grave that she had buried herself in.

"Denied" by Mika Gigamon

"Denied" by Mika Gigamon

The candle's flame flickered in the still evening air, dancing on the most imperceptible of air currents and bringing forth life to the normally still shadows on the stark stone walls. An undercurrent of gloom and despair clung to the floor like a sick fog -- invisible, cloying, foul, and putrid. Evil had set root within this room and taken hold of all that entered.

Dem Bones, Dem Bones part one - by lillian Morpork

The hand of the Lord was upon me ……… Prophesy to these bones, and say to them ‘O dry bones: Behold I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinew upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall love; and you shall know that I am Lord. Ezekiel 37. 1, 4 to 6

“Oh, Mother, will you not speak to me? Will you not look around you and see your children, and grandchildren? We love you, we miss you. And our children would so love to have a grandma to talk to them, tell them tales of the past. Now they are grown, and starting their own families, will you not try to hear and see us? What of your great-grandchildren? They would love to know their Granny. Oh, please, Mother, come back to us!” Mary sighed, kissed her mother’s cheek, and rose from her knees wiping the tears from her face.