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

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Your Inspiration for December 2013

Please note we will NOT be holding  readings on 25th December. We will be reading on 4th , 11th and 18th December.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Magic Santa Bus stop Part 2 by Relay Caedmon.

Amy AMY AMYYY!! Calling words echoed in the darkness, nothing was was seen only darkness as she was in a sack dumped into a dark corner of a cellar. She opened her eyes and found herself in the bus stop again.

A Winters Tale - Part 2 – Lillian Morpork

Abigail Thornbuckle carefully packed the basket of her walker, placing the bags so the contents wouldn’t leak. There was an insulated container of hot tea, a large thermos of thick beef stew a small loaf of fresh made bread, small pumpkin and apple pies, and some fruit. And in another bag, pits of bread, peanuts, sunflower seeds, fruit that was on the verge of going bad, and dried raisins.

"A Shelter's Story" by Llola Lane (Part 2 Young Love)

Soon I see an ambulance arrive and they take the hobo away. He never returns and as the days turn into months I realize I miss him. I hum HIS tune often as I watch the people go by.

In From the Cold - Part 3 - by Sven Pertelson

Unusually, as Tom walked in to Harry's office, Harry motioned for him to close the door. Tom was puzzled. Though they were in the business of secrets and national security everyone normally knew everything that was going on in the office.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Walking - by Marita Decosta

She was walking, how curious, not the fact that she was walking that's silly, but why would she suddenly realize she is taking a walk, and feel quite happy about it. Each step produced an interesting sound. Walking in bare feet made a certain sound, as did walking in high heels, boots, sneakers, and flip flops, but this sound was none of those She stopped walking, and pressed her sensory perception a bit beyond the audible. The first to respond was the skin on the tip of her nose, then her cheeks, both replied in perfect harmony, “it's cold”, yes she thought, the air, it's cold, but I feel warm, how odd. Time to up the ante and bring visual fully online, she knew her eyes were open but she wasn't really consciously observing at the moment, another mystery, why would she not?

"A Shelter's Story" by Llola Lane (Part 1 Hobo)

"A Shelter's Story" by Llola Lane (Part 1 Hobo)

I have seen many people in my short lifetime. Felt many heartaches, witnessed many first loves blossom, and lost many friends. I have celebrated many birthdays and other happy occasions, and though most have faded from memory... a few people I can't seem to forget.

A Winters Tale - Part 1 by Lillian Morpork

Abigail Thornbuckle stood watching the birds at the balcony feeders. There were Sparrows, Chickadees, a Purple Martin, a Tanager and even a pair of Cardinals. She loved watching them, though she was careful not to go close to the window.

In from the Cold - part 2 - by Sven Pertelson

Tom was frozen to the core by the time he had trudged back to his flat. He quickly hooked the video camera up to his laptop to download the footage and while it was working treated himself to a good hot shower. At least he had not drawn the night watch on this operation, no warm café for whoever had to spend the night watching the park.

"North Pole" An insider's perspective by Tami

Santa leaned back in his black reindeer leather lay-z-boy, put his winter-booted feet up on an old bourbon crate, and took a long swig of Budweiser. After swilling the warm, flat, beer around his mouth, he spewed it over the railing onto one of the elves working below, letting out a deep belly laugh as he gave the little twerp a beer shower. Sighing because his beer was now too warm to enjoy, he lit up a nice Cuban cigar and inhaled a lungful of the sweet, rum-dipped, tobacco smoke before flinging the half-full beer can at a passing elf. Ah well, it was almost noon and he hated drinking more than a couple of dozen beer before his lunch. It was time to switch to Jack and Eggnog. Feeling a rumbling in his stomach, he let out a long carbonated, beer smelling, belch and closed his eyes for a short nap under his sunlamp.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Drowning - Part 2 - Marita Decosta (from November)

He made it back into the drivers seat of the van, closer to the vents that were blasting on high with slowly warming air, grasping the steering wheel as hard as he could to try and still the shivering and shaking and attempt to return some more feeling and control back into his hands and arms.

The Magic Santa Bus Stop! - Part 1 - by Relay Caedmon

The Snow who falled down covered everything, roads,bushes even the rusty old stopsign who had seen many days, and its condition wasnt as it best. But there right there in the white field of snow there was a bus stop. Its oriented inspired roofs covered in snow kept part of the ground below free from it.

Winter Wonders - by Lillian Morpork

I walked through the park the day after the storm,
The snow was so deep, but I was quite warm.

"Little Bird" by Llola Lane

"Little Bird" by Llola Lane

Little bird up in a tree,
Little bird looks at me,
Another bird flying high,
Can not see me from the sky.

In From The Cold - part 1 - by Sven Pertelson

From the warmth of the park café Tom could see the old tramp shuffling along towards the frozen pond and the shelter. All the paths to the shelter were pristine unbroken snow. No-one had been near the shelter today and as it had not snowed since yesterday sunset that meant it had not been visited over night.