Terabithia

I'm definitely too old to play children's games.
Way too young to act like I'm old.
But I found Terebithia.

I was bouncing from left foot to right down a steep dirt path, my backpack whispering with each jolt on the mountainside.The ground was wet from yesterday's melted snow, the creek was loud with it. There I found Terebithia and an untamed wood.

The log bridge was thin and stripped of bark. It was more sturdy than it looked. With one foot I tested the stability of the wooden slat that spanned the rest of the crossing. I was as cautious as I was uninhibited. Yet death was so far away, even as I leapt through decomposing leaves up another steep path; they were like spiderwebs fused together, or Miss Havisham's old lace.

And then the huge stone, surprisingly warm as my fingertips pressed against it in passing. It was a living thing, the boundary between creek and wood, the four walls of my new sanctuary.

And now I sit and write, thinking about the ghosts of myself that dance around me. The brave ten year old child that I was, crossing the creek over and over again to prove that I could; the brooding teenager crouching dramatically at the top of the sunny stone; the seven year old hunting through the dirt and turning over rocks looking for bugs; the nine year old, trying to decide if it would be cruel to flick a bug off of her pants; the frightened eighteen year old wishing she wasn't so alone. And the Now Me trying to hold all of us in.

I found Terabithia.

Something New

So, my mom is a composer and my dad, brother, and sister are songwriters. They've all pretty much told me they wouldn't mind if I wrote them some lyrics to work with, so I decided to give it a try!

This is my first set of lyrics. My sister Stephanie put it to music with her guitar. *EDIT: She had me lay down a cello track playing simple chords. I'm not a huge fan of how that turned out, but oh well. Check it.

Into the Sun
[Dedicated to our niece, Aria Wilhelm for her 7th birthday]

No force can ever pull me down
now that I’m finally off the ground.
It’s gonna take everything I’ve got and even more.
There’s no winning if you don’ try.
I’d rather lose mid-flight than give up my right to fly
I don’t blame

Icarus or his waxen wings,
cause I’m flying into the sun
and after my dreams.

This current flowing beneath my wings
tells me I’m suddenly coming free.
It’s keeping me high above the sharks that wait below.
New hope is kindling in my eyes.
I’ll never doubt again when all within me cries
to follow

Icarus with his waxen wings
and try flying into the sun
and after my dreams.

If you believe good things must end
don’t cry when everything crashes in;
I may be falling from the sky but I’m still on the rise.
That sunlight burning within my mind
reminds me once again I’m glad that I could find
inside me

Icarus and his waxen wings
while I’m flying into the sun
and after my dreams.

Old poems made new

Prayer
Make of me what you will:
A vessel, Lord, of thine to fill;
'Wheat and tares together sown,'
Unto joy or sorrow grown.
Justice and mercy together entwined;
Form me a cord, to strengthen and bind
'like son to sire', my heart to thine.
Desire and will: one type, one mind.



Unblinded
There were years of youth
where folly reigned and selfish pride was king
of wasted days and hollow nights;
Where misery was truth.

There was a minute
when, weathered, I felt captainless and weak
beyond God’s love; when suddenly
I felt myself wrapped in it.

I heard a vow,
transcendent like the shining sunlit night
A harmony there in my ears:
‘Take up the fielding plough.’




Love on Ice
If I told the story of love through my paint
I would brush-stroke you blue;
Wistful, like the world was new, with
Fire in your eyes.

“I swear by the flowers that I haven’t sent
I would take you to me.”
I knew all along it would always be
fire first, then ice.

Limericks!

So today I've been having a lot of fun with a "Creative Response" I have to do for one of my Brit Lit projects. Here it is so far!

There once was a science professor
whose students tried hard to impress her.
The tests were verbatim
So she chose to just fail 'em.
They're now pleased to meet her successor.

There once was a woman named Paris
who was famous for being an heiress.
She had enough dough
to make her own show,
but nobody watched, in all fairness.

I happen to know an old miser
who hired a fiscal advisor.
The man was sure nice
but charged double price,
and the miser was never the wiser!

A short single woman named Jan
decided she wanted a man.
She made up her mind,
but who did she find?
Her good old Uncle Sam!

The next episode of Rachel's story...

Well guess what? For those of you who thought I left you hanging... fast forward a few years from the story called "Missing Rachel", and you have my latest short story! Yayyy.

Disclaimer: It's only slightly workshopped, and I have a lot of work to do before the two 'episodes' are fully fused together. But ya know. I'm just trying to get as much of it down as I can before fully re-writing them as one piece.

Wish me luck! Or better yet-- make suggestions!! Thanks, Stacy

Rachel

This is my latest short story! I have been struggling to write this story for a while, and I'm excited to finally have somewhere to begin. Eventually it will probably be much longer than a short story, but ya gotta start somewhere, right? I have workshopped it with my teacher a little, but no one has edited this draft with me. So as always, feel free to comment/suggest!!!

A Short-short story

Hey all!

It's been a while, sorry about that. I guess I have decided to stop using my pen name, Casey Starma, because it doesn't really feel right. So Hi. I'm Stacy Garner! ha ha.

Here is a new short story I just finished for my creative writing class. Caution: It has not yet been workshopped, so forgive the first-draft form!

Enjoy
-Stacy

[P.S. This was selected to be read at BYU-Idaho's Pre-Professional Conference!]