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Over the years, many grammatical conventions have been hotly debated. Despite being called rules, some of them are really preferences, suggestions, or even misconceptions. Let’s break down some of the biggest grammar debates and their origins so you can decide what’s “right” for your writing.

Writers know how important it is to use language to show the reader what a character is feeling and thinking in a story. Beyond dialogue and outright exposition, writers have other literary tools to achieve this goal. Let’s zoom in on one of those tools: stream of consciousness.

Take a brief small bookstore tour around North Carolina with us and find some niche new (and old) places to meet your next favorite book. Be sure to check individual store websites and socials for the most up to date information on inventory, events, and offerings.

Elsie Jones did not belong here. Despite the soft sunlight that filtered in through her large windows, the lush pillows surrounding her, the gorgeous silk scarf holding her dark curls aloft as she slept, and the inviting platter of tea sitting on the table beside her door, the entirety of Southerby Plantation seemed to constantly ooze a sense of foreboding. It was as if the very structure itself whispered obscenities to her through the walls each night...

Kid crashed his car into the River at 2:03. It was just as the sun came into his eyes and flared that he’d swerved. Or didn’t realize he’d swerved. Not that it mattered.

He comes in those moments before sleep sweeps across my brow, sinks me into nothingness. His words mere whispers. In my ear? My mind? I can never tell. They encoil my heart and steal my breath as terror surges through me, awareness of my mortality palpable. His presence a shroud embracing me. Portending that which lies beyond my end.

Pickles the Clown was calmer than he remembered being in his entire life. Leaning forward in the vanity chair toward the mirror, he carefully drew a rag across his cheek. The thick white makeup and red freckling transferred from his face onto the cloth. He’d been with the traveling carnival for three seasons. During that time, he’d aged from runaway teenager to legal adult. The other members of the troupe had treated him like a grown-up from the beginning.

There’s something special about Halloween reading. A flickering candle, a cool October night, and the right story can turn the ordinary into something unforgettable. Some tales creep in quietly, others jump out at you, but all of them capture the strange beauty of fear. We’ve dropped the horror stories and books we’ve reached for over the years below so you can have a frightful night to remember.

Who doesn’t love a dark and ominous mix of horror and romance in a story? From the scenery and imagery to the most important themes and how to craft them, we are looking at gothic horror from a writer’s point of view. Dive in with us to discover the finer details of what your story should feature to join the greats like Poe, Bronte, and Stoker.

When you are writing a short story intended to scare your reader into the next decade, there are some key elements to include and a few pitfalls you will want to avoid. We will cover the best ways to ensure you craft your narrative with the right dose of suspense to keep readers engaged all the way though.

Author Samantha Dunaway Bryant recently took the time to answer Ink & Oak’s burning questions via email. Keep reading for more on her forthcoming titles and bookish events you can find her at over the next few weeks. 

You don’t have to look far for inspiration when setting out to write chilling content in North Carolina. Our state is home to a host of authors delivering freshly brewed horror tales. Read on, if you dare, for details on local meet-ups and frights to spur your creativity.

The city forgets, but the bricks remember, lungs filled with the dust of another man’s wealth. Your laughter dissolved into smoke each September.

I wrote this like Psalms etched in the sand, A message from the soul, so I hope you’ll understand. I used to marvel at your magic like Strange with the hands, Now your spells feel hollow, generic, and bland.

I AM the child of pyramids kissed by the Nile, An heir to the wisdom that stretches infinite miles. I AM the scribe of Ausar, the keeper of stars, Charting paths through Orion, unshaken by scars.

We are at the brink of October, that time of wandering souls, Samhain and otherworldly vibes. Here at Ink & Oak, that means we are sending out a call to all you tortured souls and twisted Triangle-based writers to hit us with your finest flash fiction, micro-fiction, and short stories that bring out the dead, the undead, and all that occupies the liminal space between.

Every story begins with a voice stepping out of the dark and offering to guide us through the landscape of plot, character, and theme. Our instinct as readers is to trust that voice, but what happens when it hesitates or misleads us?

I like to touch your scars in complete darkness, bend my fingers over the battlefield of your back, reading your flesh with my own, pondering the violence of the life before us. The circle scar on your spine,

the Haw slides slow past brick and bramble moss threads the wheel spokes a broken beam leans like a weaver asleep at her frame

Near enough to but not inside of  Kenosha and entirely forgotten  by all records              seven–thousand and eighty-two plastic eggs compress because Jeremiah Bumthwaite      (age seven)     has a sloppy swandive