Articles written by Caroline Ross

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About me - Caroline Ross

I love words. I love to read them, and I love to write them. I was first published in the Literary Journal at my alma mater, Catawba College. I have recently refound the art of writing and am writing incessantly and looking for places to be heard.

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: A photo in a frame: 1 of 17

AN EVENT An unfamiliar room Filled with familiar people And a small black camera on A white linen table cloth To record the forbidden day Allowed and true The people whom I have known Since I first opened my eyes I open my eyes again To see people that I don't know Or understand I've been growing past them all my life Though...
Arts & Humanities > Children's Literature Gender equity in children's stories: 1 of 11

Our future is bright. The fact is, we can choose what we teach our children. Truthfully, there is still gender bias in our society. As much as we have fought for equality, some inequality still hangs on by its teeth. However, children's literature is the one place, where this inequality is very rare. Children don't see thing...
Relationships & Family > Family Bonding How a road trip can foster family communication: 3 of 25

Being stuck in a small space, such as a car, with family, is not always an appealing idea. If your are a child, then there is the inevitable bickering with siblings. If you are an adult, well maybe you've grown past drawing impenetrable lines down the seat, but you've also grown into adult conflict. Let's face it, as an adul...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Desire: 43 of 335

Desire To Know I desire to know the little boy in this picture His three years of smiling innocent joy With his chest proudly stuck out and his eyes mischievous I desire to know how he felt The kind of games he played And what it sounded like to hear him laugh I desire to know his joys and pains His most inner self The inner...
Arts & Humanities > Writing Tips Getting over yourself: Making the transition from thinking to writing: 7 of 53

To be a writer, you must write. You can't just think about writing. Even if you daydream some pretty terrific story lines, they are still not on the page. Once you words are on the page, they are not only proof that you can think, but they are there for someone else to read and enjoy. You have created something. You have sha...
Creative Writing > Memoirs Testimonies: Not all who wander are lost: 3 of 22

Not all who wander are lost. Although, I'm sure I often seemed lost to the people around me. I would cry, scream and bang loudly. I would jump, laugh and dance. From early fall 1995 until June 13, 2005 I did not stay in the same place for longer than five months. I was a gypsy and a vagabond. Most of the time I was in a diff...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Artists: 2 of 11

"This is the best work you've ever done." "Really? You mean it?" "Yeah Squirt, keep it up, and you might just be a famous artist some day. This is one of the conversations I remember having with Zoey, the best baby sitter in the world, or at least my favorite growing up. She was my hero, the only person in my life who ever t...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Father: 24 of 131

FRED ASTAIRE He was a big man tall and skinny He must have just worked forever So I could dream my dreams Don't love me too much one day you'll find Someone else and you'll love him more I know how to make him smile jump on him tickle him Get him from the back Ahhhh! Help he got me No giggle NO giggle don't tickle me I got h...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Teenagers: 7 of 36

I was standing in front of my mirror, trying desperately to calm my curls into some sort of acceptable fashion. If you are ever looking for me, you can probably find me here, in front of my mirror. I swear I'm not vain, just frustrated with my tresses. I have spent the last two hours here, in front of the mirror, preparing f...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Voices: 12 of 56

The Day The Voices Died I choke on my past turn and desperately look to the future a blank void a sea of nothingness. No hints are being given at this time. In my desperation I feel like I am falling into a puddle of tears so deep I will surely drown. I will die. Will that be better? Could it be lovely? I mourn the hope in m...