StoryTellerZine

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    Featured StoryTeller ELIJAH DAVID by J. Smith Kirkland Elijah David was raised in the Florida Panhandle, and during his middle and high school years moved around the Southeast and Midwest. He received his master from UTC, in English with an emphasis on Creative Writing. Now he writes, and occasionally blogs, from the Chattanooga area, where he lives with his wife, children, and their cat Pumpkin. His stories weave a visual tapestry for the reader, filled with light and magic. He is skilled at  touching emotions, and  his  relatable characters  easily take the reader on a journey through his stories. I imagine his children enjoy his story telling talent. He wrote a children story that has been animated. Monster In The Corner can be seen as a  comic and video at crazybuffet.club.  The story included here, Grandmother Moon, is a touching tale of love and maybe a little magic. You can find more of his stories in multiple coll...

Interview STZ : Do you have a favorite genre to write? A favorite story you have written? Elijah David : I enjoy writing anything that sparks wonder and touches on the fantastic. "Grandmother Moon" is probably my favorite short story I've written. STZ : Where do you get inspiration for your stories? ED : Everywhere -- from the people I pass on the street, to my personal experiences, to the stories I read and watch -- it all gets ground together in my mind so it can percolate into the proper story. STZ : Who are some of your favorite writers? ED : C.S. Lewis, Ray Bradbury, J.K. Rowling, Diana Wynne Jones, Susan Cooper, Madeleine L'Engle, Frank Peretti, Charles Williams, J.R.R. Tolkien STZ : Can you tell us anything about a story you have in the works? ED : I'm working on a sequel to my fairy tale novella, Paper and Thorns , and a companion novel to my short story collection, The Path of Lucius Park. STZ :Your were raised on the panhandle, rig...

  Grandmother Moon Elijah David Grandmother dozed beneath the watchful eye of the no-longer-quite-full moon. Her right hand held Perry’s left, stretching his arm across the narrow aisle between the SUV’s middle seats like a lifeline in the sea of memory. Or forgetting, Perry thought. Perry had no illusions about Grandmother’s ability to remember him or their relationship. She was past remembering, her mind swallowed up in a darkness as certain as that which surrounded the moon. If I could draw the moon down in my hand, Perry thought, I’d drop it in your head and it would shine into all the deep corners of your mind where our faces lie cobwebbed and moth-eaten. And you’d remember us again. But even as Perry stretched a hand to the sky, the futility of the act froze him. Moons did not leave the sky without fingers of gods hurling them down. Perry’s gaze shifted to the empty road before them, lit by the harsh yellow headlights of his father’s SUV. His father had refused ...