Verity Fynn

United States of America

Hey, hey, hey! I'm a sixteen-year-old girl with a passion for reading and writing. Aside from that, I enjoy correcting people, chocolate, and traveling.
Shalom!
Verity

Message from Writer

"Stars cannot shine without the darkness..."
~Anonymous

Published Work

Fantasy Writing Competition 2015

Mistique

The ocean swelled angrily around our boat, and all around me I could hear cries of fear from the women, panic from the children, and desperation from the men. Everyone on deck was soaked to the skin from the rain and the waves. Thunder crashed and lightening lit up the brooding sky, and above it all I heard a shrill scream and a distant splash. Shouts of, "Man overboard!" and "Rope! Get a rope!" were roared over the sounds of the fierce storm. Soon a man was hauled back onto the ship, washed out and limp like a drowned rat. He spluttered and coughed out seawater, and soon was back to work, trying to tie down the sails. I hardened my resolve and started after him, determined to help.
One of the deckhands waved his arms, shouting, "All women and children go below decks!" There was suddenly a stampede heading for the stairs. I fought to stay above, but Mrs. Fallop, my...

YOU in threes

Me in Threes

Three quirks or idiosyncrasies:

  • When I'm nervous I finger flute music/songs on my pencils and pens.
  • I'm really clumsy - I fall up the stairs several times a day.
  • I stick my tongue out whenever I do something that requires concentration.
Three things about me that few people know:
  • I want to go into the publishing industry.
  • I plan to travel the world.
  • I wish I wasn't the oldest child in my family.
Three qualities that make my life unusual:
  • I have a blood disorder so almost every day I need to go to the nurse for an ice pack.
  • I love eating plain peanut butter!
  • I have a lot of friends who are homeschooled.
Three pet peeves:
  • When people use incorrect grammar.
  • When people give me nicknames.
  • When I don't know an answer.

The Limerick

Emma and the Umbrella

There once was a girlie named Emma
Who found herself in a dilemma
It started to rain
And she searched in vain
She could not obtain an umbrella!

Six-Word Story

An Ad in the Paper

Wanted: Coffin, Headstone, and Grave Diggers.

A piece of good news.

Miracle

I want you to put your hand over your heart. Feel the life-giving beat that pulses within you. Now I want you to remember how every single person on this earth has that same life-giving beat inside of them. Isn't that miraculous?

I am going to be honest with you, reader. I am not very good at writing about abstract things like hope or peace or beauty. I think that is a task best left to greater minds than mine. However, I have one tiny sliver of a thought that I could contribute to the wonderful and mysterious world of abstract writing, and it is this: you are a miracle. You are important. You are essential. You are loveable. There is Someone out there in the universe that has deemed you so absolutely necessary to the people and things on this earth that They give you every breath that you breathe.

Now, however short that paragraph may be, I feel...

A piece of good news.

Miracle

I want you to put your hand over your heart. Feel the life-giving beat that pulses within you. Now I want you to remember how every single person on this earth has that same life-giving beat inside of them. Isn't it miraculous?

I am going to be honest with you, reader. I am not very good at writing about abstract things like hope or peace or beauty. I think that is a task best left to greater minds than mine. However, I have one tiny piece of a thought that I could contribute to the wonderful and mysterious world of abstract writing, and it is this: you are a miracle. You are important. You are essential. You are loveable. There is Someone out there in the universe that has deemed you so absolutely necessary to the people and things on this earth that They give you every breath that you breathe.

Now, however short that paragraph may be, I feel...

Five Beginnings

Five Beginninnings!

1. Agnes had never felt this sick in her entire seventeen years, not even when she caught the flu in seventh grade. As she coughed up her breakfast into the toilet, she rubbed her slightly bulging belly. She was starting to show.

2. The pamphlet displayed happy teens lounging about around a stately mansion. What I saw was a decrepit old place with overgrown weeds and not a person in sight.

3. The old holy man clutched the worn wooden prayer beads, willing the horrible vision to leave him.

4. She always laughed at funerals. Something about the solemn black garb and the dreary mood always tickled her, and her father's funeral was no exception.

5. It looked less than perfect, but the boat was solid and finally finished. It would be able to withstand the harsh storms of the high seas... or at least that was John's hope.

Fernweh

Noheract

Noheract (verb) ~ To aviod thinking about an undesirable or difficult topic by engaging in some form of exhausting, grueling, or painful activity.

Origin: This word comes from the Spanish ejercicio, exercise, and the Latin actio, activity.

Usage: After a long day in court, the judge will often noheract at the gym, putting off the difficult decision that must be made the next day.

Invisible Cities

Nordel

You can only see this city when the asphalt is wet from rain. Look down, down, down, further than where your feet stand, and you will see Nordel, our distorted mirror-city. The people are your disfigured shadows, copying your every move. Everyone seems to mock us there, doing what we do, but looking stranger, sillier, somehow. There are houses and shops and other buildings here, of course, but they seem to be malformed, and stretch deep into the center of the earth. There is no freedom here, for people are bound to their doppelgangers above. Nordel dissappears as the asphalt dries, for where the is no one to see there is nothing to be seen.

Fantasy Writing Competition 2015

Mistique

The ocean swelled angrily around our boat, and all around me I could hear cries of fear from the women, panic from the children, and desperation from the men. Everyone on deck was soaked to the skin from the rain and the waves. Thunder crashed and lightening lit up the brooding sky, and above it all I heard a shrill scream and a distant splash. Shouts of, "Man overboard!" and "Rope! Get a rope!" were roared over the sounds of the fierce storm. Soon a man was hauled back onto the ship, washed out and limp like a drowned rat. He spluttered and coughed out seawater, and soon was back to work, trying to tie down the sails. I hardened my resolve and started after him, determined to help.

One of the deckhands waved his arms, shouting, "All women and children go below decks!" There was suddenly a stampeed heading for the stairs. I fought to stay above, but Mrs. Fallop, my...

Polar Opposite

I Never Made It to the Interview

There are no empty seats on the subway, so I am forced to stand.  With a Starbucks coffee in one hand and my resume in the other, I run through the questions I might be fielding during this interview. My name is Guadalupe Perez. I am tewnty-six years old. I'm the perfect fit for this job because I have great people skills, I am very articulate, and I truly show that I care. I'm certain that I'll clinch this job as a social worker. Anybody who witnesses my daily interactions with others can see that I'm a natural. The subway jerks to an abrupt stop, and I am forced to drop my resume to grab hold of the metal bar above my head.  

The paper flutters into the lap of a handsome man in his late thirties. He glances up at me with calculating grey eyes, wondering if I dropped the paper on purpose to get his attention. His biceps flex...

Subtotals

Glorious Subtotals

Number of times I laugh in a day: 5,832. Number of times people laugh at my laugh: 3,691. Number of times I guess at something, anything: 268. Number of times I bite back sarcasm: 0. Number of times I regret what I've said: 37. Number of times I sustained a freak injury: 69. Number of times I've cried in public: 3. Number of times I could have justified doing so: 596. Number of countries I've visited: 0. Number of countries I WISH I've visited: 192. Number of F's in math: 2. Number of ER visits: 1. Number of times I've exaggerated in this piece: 13.

Invisible Cities

Nordel

You can only see this city when the asphalt is wet from rain. Only then do you realize that Nordel, the city underneath our feet, is our distorted mirror. The people are your disfigured shadows, copying your every move. Everyone seems to mock us there, doing what we do, but looking weirder, sillier, somehow. Houses and streetlights stretch far, far up (or down, for us) deep into the center of the earth.  In Nordel, the streets are always wet, and the inhabitants watch our every move.  There is no freedom here, for people are bound to their doppelgangers above.

Polar Opposite

I Never Made It to the Interview

There are no empty seats on the subway, so I am forced to stand.  With a Starbucks coffee in one hand and my resume in the other, I run through potential questions I might be fielding during this interview. My name is Guadalupe Perez. I am tewnty-six years old. I'm the perfect fit for this job because I have great people skills, I am very articulate, and I truly show that I care. I'm certain that I'll clinch this job as a social worker. Anybody with eyes can see I'm practically made for it. The subway jerks to an abrupt stop, and I am forced to drop my resume to grab hold of the metal bar above my head.  The paper flutters into the lap of a handsome man in his late thirties. His biceps flex as he reaches up to give it back to me, giving me a seductive smile.  I smile back and make sure to smoothly unbutton the top...