The final stop on the creative rollercoaster—these pieces are done, dusted, and out in the world. No more edits. No more excuses. Just finished work, ready for curious eyes.
I spent most of my life believing the world was simply quiet. It wasn’t until my late forties that a hearing test revealed how much I had never truly heard.
In moments of deep struggle, faith under pressure becomes more than belief—it becomes endurance. This piece pairs art and reflection to capture that moment.
A powerful and humorous account of navigating a world designed for tall people, where even simple tasks like shopping become exercises in frustration and humiliation. This candid story explores the daily obstacles faced by short people in everything from store displays to clothing racks.
Back in 2017, I wrote a personal essay for grad school—no help from AI, because it didn’t exist for me yet. But in 2025, a detector flagged it as “likely AI-written.” Turns out, I might’ve been channeling The Mechanical Muse before she ever showed up.
“Truth doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it just stands.” Stand for truththrough lies and misconceptions.Stand for truththrough slander and deceptions.Stand for truthwhen all ails.Stand for truthwhen all else fails.Stand for truth,and by His hand, truth will guide you.Stand for truth,and...
📜 About This Project I was honored to be one of 50 contributors selected from over 500 applicants for the Smithsonian and U.S. Postal Service’s Indians at the Post Office project. My piece, Last Home of the Choctaw Nation, was accepted for publication and remains part of the project’s archival...
A flash fiction story capturing the emotional toll of war in just 100 words. Mud, innocence, and the grim reaper collide in a powerful snapshot of combat.
Based on a real sixth-grade classroom disaster, this story follows one girl’s very public battle with a clipboard, a book report, and one very literal maintenance man.
A raw free verse poem written during one of the most difficult seasons of my life—when I was emotionally drained and spiritually weary. This piece echoes the quiet truth of what it feels like to keep pushing when you’re past empty.
What started as a harmless joke about yardwork turned into years of suburban drama involving flowerbeds, vicious dog accusations, and even a tiny dog mystery. Sometimes, good fences don’t help.
Vicky Edwards is a writer, storyteller, and lifelong observer of life’s everyday messes. She blogs about memories, grandkids, life, and all the weird little moments in between—some of it’s true(ish), some of it’s not, but it’s all accompanied by a tear or a smile. She’s written for The DeQueen Dispatch, contributed to national history projects, and served as an editorial assistant for The Lindenwood Review.