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, November 26, 2014

Your Inspiration for November-December 2014

Choose any of  the Greeting Cards shown for your inspiration

"An Unusual Journey" by Lillian Morpork

"An Unusual Journey" by Lillian Morpork

Alex Martin sat in his usual place by the window. He liked sitting there, because he could see out and watch the people, animals, butterflies and birds going by.  As he watched, he made up stories about where they were going, what magical things would happen to them, and how they would cope. Only today, he couldn’t see anything. Jack Frost had been busy during the night and had painted a truly magical scene on the window. 

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

A Candle in the Window - by Sven Pertelson

There is a candle burning in my window for anyone to see as they walk past. What message they take from it depends on them.

"A Time Travel Tale" by Lillian Morpork

"A Time Travel Tale" by Lillian Morpork

I was just arriving home from work, admiring the Christmas decorations on the house when I thought I heard a voice cry out in the back yard. I walked around the house and waded through the snow, heading for the back fence, and looking around for any disturbance or even a body in the snow, but there was only smooth, unbroken snow. When I was almost at the gate I noticed that it was open, and the snow was disturbed and a patch of red startled my eyes. It looked as though someone had fallen and gashed their head on something, but there was no body, and the snow all around was undisturbed. It looked as though the body had fallen in the snow, and disappeared into thin air.