Christine Stoddard is a writer and interdisciplinary artist from Arlington, VA, right outside of Washington, D.C. In addition to writing poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, journalistic and academic pieces, screen/stage plays, Christine also writes and
+ more bio informationQUAIL BELL Fantomina could recite the legend of the quail bell since she was nearly small enough to fit into the glorified faerie creation herself. She had learned it from her great-great-great aunt, a shriveled, toothless woman with one eye and a single mauve scarf to cover her bald head. Ever since then, Fantomina guarded... More..
"Chandra's Case" Chandra sprinted through the woods behind her house with the swiftness of all the sprites she had read about in her storybooks. The tiny spines of blonde hair on her legs shone in the early spring sunlight. She felt enchanted. By what, she knew not, nor did she care. Chandra only knew that the day was beautif... More..
"The Ghost of Smith Hall"The hall stood black and silent. All of the other girls and boys had retreated to the warmth of their beds for their soothing beauty sleep. They breathed calmly, in and out like normal, with dreams to spice up their young heads. Only one remained awake but only because she could never sleep.Her name w... More..
"Dreaming in Acrylic" The garage hummed with the sounds of dying light bulbs and stray crickets' songs. A fan spun crookedly in the center of the moldy ceiling, threatening to smash against the artist's workbench if not soon replaced. Selena, a short redhead, flicked her blue-tinged paintbrush in between her fingers. A flec... More..
Once upon a time, there was a young girl, just an average girl in every way, who fell in love. Her name was Corinne. But don't let the musicality of her name fool you. Despite her pretty name, Corinne was rather plain. Not ugly, but certainly unremarkable. You could pass her on any city street, or even small town street, and ... More..
"A Destitute Reflection"Connor scuttled through the crowds of people waiting in line for the film festival as the sun beat too hard overhead. The phony film buffs wore red laminated passes swinging from cheap lanyards. Connor hated that blinding color but, even more so, he hated all the smiling men and women standing outside ... More..
"Salt" Joanne sank into her green-gray armchair and pulled the daily crossword puzzle into her lap. Surprisingly she hadn't tripped on a plastic tow-truck or a Lego leg on the way there. Joanne had just returned from another eight-hour day of talking to bank customers she secretly hated in the typical 9-to-5 worker's w... More..
How to Be an Artist:No Talent RequiredIt's called radical chic'-being cool by being uncool. Painters and poets alike brandish their filthy fingernails, moth-eaten duds, and cigarette-clad lips the same way Paris Hilton and her Malibu cronies sport Kate Moss bags and Gucci stilettos-with that oh-so-obnoxious "you wish you coul... More..
"Worms As Mentors"6:45 in the morning with overcast skies and a balmy breeze in Grinnell, Iowa-a fly-over town in a fly-over state with a world-renowned college of the same name. Mom and Pop stores lined the streets with a popular franchise here and there, staring across from mobile homes and Victorianbeauties alike. It was a... More..
"How Should I Feel About Fan Mail?" I grew up in the era of celebrities, where the media scrapes up the most intimate details of famous people's lives and dumps it on a website for all the world to consume. And they do. They opt for cerebral malnutrition every time. My generation learned how to use a computer by age six or... More..
Christine Stoddard
Arlington, Virginia US
Articles Written: 37