What does literature mean to you?

As an avid reader and writer I have always wondered how, and why, people become so attached to the characters within stories. One of the first books that ever caught my attention, and really started my love of reading, was Dragonflight by Anne McCaffery. As a young girl it was full of adventure, and I felt a connection to the female protagonist. Looking back on it now, it is still one of the most tattered books I own, probably because I pick it up constantly just to flip through its pages. In reality, it didn’t need to have the fantasy elements for me to love it, and that is because I fell in love with the characters. I think that is the main reason I have devoted my life to literature: I feel an emotional connection to the characters and their struggles.

Over the years my reading has included more Fitzgerald and Shakespeare than McCaffery, but that doesn’t mean McCaffery’s stories won’t hold a special place in my heart. I have a problem with people who say that books read just for fun are not literature. If we took each book and based its merit on the complexity of the sentences, or the depth of the thematic purpose, then we might find the books that say something uniquely profound about our society and how we function. Certainly, these titles cause English majors and other books enthusiasts to leap with joy (literally or metaphorically? you decide), but there is something about that one book that sparked that part of your brain making you want to read more. That’s because it says something about you as a person. Regardless if the first book you fell in love with was a fantasy novel, or a poem by T.S. Eliot, it opened up new doors for you that wouldn’t have been discovered had you not given the first book a chance.

The 14 Essential Differences Between Writers and Storytellers

I am conflicted with this: mainly because I fall into both categories depending on my mood.

Trent Lewin

Writers embrace the lost art of using a typewriter, but have now morphed into the age of computers and file storage in the cloud.  Storytellers have recently evolved out of the practice of flinging their own feces at cave walls and smearing it about with a dull stick.

Writers speak in low, thoughtful tones, and everyone gathers around them at parties as they spontaneously leap into a wine-heightened progression of playful prose and insightful social commentary.  Storytellers are generally at the same party, twitching in a closet as they fumble about with an over-willing partner, or, more often, by themselves.

Writers concern themselves with things like “form” and “vocabulary” and “grammar”.  Storytellers concern themselves with wondering why writers are such total twats.

Writers create impossible tangles of prose that often result in them having death sentences pronounced upon them by enraged religious sects based on a three-word phrase that they…

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I really liked this piece. Probably because I’m reading Whitman, but it reminded me of “Leaves of Grass”.


Leaves unfurling like a thousand green spinnakers

Catching the wind

Each leaf its own tale

I read these trees

Through fresh green pages

Like reading the whispers of others

In this consequence of narrative

Where each tale is separate but connected

Like each green flag is anchored on branches

I hear each murmur that comes my way

Each note and comment adds to the story

That I piece together organically

So that even as I revel in today’s fresh green garments

I read foreshadowings of rusty autumn in the wind

When these solitary voices will be stripped away

And nobody will remember spring’s tale



David Trudel   ©  2013



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Ghost Eyes


Here is my second story: Ghost Eyes!

Click here to get the full text, and as usual, comments are greatly appreciated!

I also realized a small teaser might be beneficial: Mina is a young girl who is dealing with the ramifications of a dark time in her childhood. Her mother’s depression, and the arrival of a strange child, have the potential to change her views on just what death means.


Hi everyone looking at this little webpage! I will be posting some unfinished pieces later this evening. So, if you have some free time I would love you everyone to look them over, and let me know what you think/advice/what I might do to finish them! But, for now, a picture of The Globe Theatre in London!


New Short Story: Red Baron


Here is my first completed work for the site. I would love to hear your comments!

Click here to read the story!

Summary: The ghosts of WWII haunt a man who has seemingly lost everything. Comfortable in his solidarity, he resists the friendship that is a constant presence. It is a story of loss, missed opportunities, and redemption.