Showing posts with label Legend of sleepy hollow fan fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Legend of sleepy hollow fan fiction. Show all posts

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Mr. Robertson's letter (A short story.)


(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)  

Hi everyone, even though it is not October I decided I should share one of my short stories about Mr. Robertson... (Also this one isn't very "Halloweeny," it's more the romantic subplot side of the story.) This is a test story to get to know my character Mr. Robertson a little bit better...
anyway here is the story:

My dear sister Jennifer,

Love songs, and ballads of woe are often sung in the presence of Katrina Van Tassel. She is the daughter of the rich farmer, who hosted the autumn ball after which Mr. Crane was allegedly chased by the Headless Horse…thing. Twas but a year ago, yet the townsfolk are still talking about it, and gossiping among themselves about what happened to Mr. Crane. 

I am afraid I am going off-topic for what I started telling you about was Ms. Van Tassel. She is the most beautiful girl in Sleepy Hollow and every young man wants to marry her, unless, of course, they were already married or had their mind set on someone else. Ever since I've been in Sleepy Hollow, Brom Van Brunt (for that is his real name, though everyone calls him “Brom Bones,” which is quite a silly name if you ask me) has thought that I too want to marry Katrina, which I have no desire or longing to do. 

From what I heard Mr. Van Ripper, father of one of my pupils, Isabella, and owner of Gunpowder the horse, which Mr. Crane rode on that fateful night, has told me that Brom is known for punching suitors of Katrina. Brom wants Katrina for himself and only him. I do believe that Miss Van Tassel hates being thought of as an object, prize to be won, or a damsel in distress, though when I talked to her she showed no signs of that. 

Besides meeting Katrina, I have also met another young woman. Her name I can not place (However if do remember it I shall tell you). She is quite skilled with the musket and is equal in skill to Brom (she is possibly even better than Brom). Some townsfolk even claim that she disguised herself as a solider and fought in the Revolutionary War (against England), though I can not verify, if this true or not, for she tends to keep to herself and has no desire for love. 

How are things going in England? And how is your book going? 

Your loving brother,
Mr. Robertson 

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What do you think? What do you think of the woman who Mr. Robertson says is better at shooting a musket than Brom? 

Love,
Quinley

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

If My Characters Lived in Modern Times



Hi everyone, Camp Nanowrimo has started!:) I am so excited!:)
Also Happy (belated) Easter and April Fool's Day (I didn't have a post planned for either, since I was working on my blog anniversary posts).
 Anyway, on with the post, here is what my characters might do if they lived in modern times:


Lady Annabelle 

from the Lady Annabelle Mystery Series 

Annabelle would probably be a police (or private) 
detective, if she lived in modern times (and if she wasn't a princess).  
She would love reading mystery novels like, Sherlock Holmes, Murder Most Unladylike
The Secret of The Sealed Room



Mr. Robertson 

from The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: The New School Master (my fan fiction of Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

He would probably be a teacher of literature and history,
and would be especially fascinated with the American Revolutionary War 
(and would be trying to figure out how the British lost). 
He would live in New York (near Sleepy Hollow.)


Tesariel (Tess) Short 


from Tess Short book one 

                                           Tess would probably be a writer
                               (and compete in NaNoWrimo and Camp NaNoWrimo),
                          would be a member of a book club, and would be a huge LOTR
                                (The Lord of the Rings) and Hobbit fan.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What would characters do if they lived in modern times? Which of my characters is your favorite? 

love,
Quinley

P.S. I may not be able to post as much as I normally do, since I will be doing Camp NaNoWrimo.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: Twas a dark and Stormy Night...

You can click on the picture to see the words better 

(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)
Hi everyone,
(If you haven't read the other parts, here is: Part 1 and Part 2)
Here is the next part of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: The New School Master? that I promised...
I added in some historical things into it as well.
Anyway here is the story:


Staying with the farmer was a very interesting experience, I have to say. Though it was a rather odd one at times (and no I am not talking about the farmer, I am merely talking about the room I was staying in). The event, which I am going to tell you about, happened on a rainy night. The farmer’s family and I huddled around the fire. One of the windows had broken in the middle of the storm, and was letting the rain and cold air from the storm into the house (though the farmer was telling me that a ghost broke the window). The fire’s light flickered now and then, like it could go out at any minute. 
Isabella turned around to us and said, “How about we tell ghost stories!” 
I looked around the room, it was cloaked in total darkness except for the light of the fire. “I really don’t know—“ I began. but was interrupted by the farmer, 
“That sounds like an excellent idea…” he said, grinning. 
At that moment there was a sound of thunder, and then a flash of lightning, which brightened the room for a minute. Then the room went black again, except for the light in the fire. 
“Do you by any chance need more firewood?” I asked, trying to stand up, but the farmer’s wife told me to sit down again. 
“You're not going to get firewood in this weather, Mr.Robertson!” she said. “You should have some common sense.” 
I sat down again, on the hard wooden chair.  
“Anyway…” said Isabella “Who would like to begin?” 
The farmer sat up, “I would definitely like to.” 
“Alright then,” said Isabella. “Tell us your story.” 
“Well..I am sure most of the people here have either met or heard of Ichabod Crane. He was the school master before Mr. Robertson. Well, one night he simply vanished! It was after he borrowed my best Sunday saddle to go to a party…Now most of us believe, that he was spirited away by the Headless Horseman. And most of us know that the Headless Horseman was searching for his head, which he lost many, many years ago…“ 
I listened to the farmer tell his version of what happened to Ichabod Crane, and the whole story of the Headless Horseman, which I may add I have memorized every word of. When the farmer was done telling his story, there was an applause around the room… 
“Who would like to tell a story next?” he asked. 
Isabella stood up and said, “I would like to, because I have a story about the ghost in one of our rooms…” 
I had feeling that the room she was talking about was the one I was staying in…Of course, this wasn’t the first time, anyone had mentioned the room in which I was staying being haunted by a ghost (or rather one of the past school masters). 
Isabella continued, “So…one dark and stormy night, rather like this one.” then she paused, “I went to go to get an extra blanket, because my room was freezing. As I walked down the stairs, and into the extra room (which we kept for guests or for school masters staying with us) the door creaked open….” She paused, to be dramatic, then continued, “I walked into the room. As I walked I couldn’t help but feel as if someone were watching me. When I came to the bed, I carefully picked up the blanket and folded it, then began to walk out of the room…As I did, I heard the sound of a chair moving as if someone was going to sit down in it. I turned around and to my surprise, I saw a quill pen float in mid-air! And dip itself in the ink pot! And begin to write! Quickly I ran back to my room…and that is the end of my story, thank you, thank you!” she said, then sat down again. 
“Marvelous story, Isabella” said the farmer’s wife. 
“Yes, excellent indeed!” the farmer said. 
I sighed then said, “Quite excellent!” Though I was thinking, How am I ever going to get to sleep, now? 
Suddenly, there was a sound of thunder, it echoed through the whole house… 
“Who would like to tell a story next?” asked Isabella. Just then lightning flashed, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a figure standing next to the doorway. The next moment it was gone, and I was rubbing my eyes to make sure that I had not been dreaming. “Mr. Robertson, are you alright?” asked Isabella, staring at me. “You look as if you have seen a ghost!” 
“No…I’m fine. I must be really tired…” I said, but at the same time I was thinking, Did I really see a ghost?  
“Anyway,” said the farmer’s wife. “I shall tell my story now, unless Mr. Robertson would like to tell a ghost story.” she said. 
“No I’m fine!” I said, though I rather wish now that i had told a ghost story… 
“Well…I knew that would be the answer. Anyway here is my story. This is a story I never experienced myself, or even met the person who experienced it…But this story revolves around a village not to far from Sleepy Hollow. I, myself, do not know if this story is true, or not But I know that it happened in October around the time of 1778. The Revolution was still being fought, but the story took place in a town far, far away from the fighting. There was something else going on, a letter had been received by a young lady telling her that her husband, had died fighting in the war for independence…” she paused, “The very next day he was buried. A few months after that event some odd things started happening…” she described the story in so much detail, every scene, every movement of the characters, that it seemed so real. Even the ghost part of the story was so hair-raising, that for once I felt like I was in the story she was telling. And for once I actually fully listened to a ghost story, though I cannot put it onto paper. But I add in her last line in the story (as best as I can)...
“The windows opened with a rush of cold air, blowing out all of the candles. The room was so cold, that you could hardly feel your toes. A tall figure walked into the room. He was wearing a uniform that looked tattered from time. When he spoke, it sounded almost like a rusty hinge. He walked up to the girl, and took her by the hand. And almost as soon as he had appeared, he vanished into the night…The party resumed as it had before, but the guests were all shaken at the disappearance of their hostess…” 
The story ended and there were applause around the room. I couldn’t keep it in, “That is the best ghost story I have ever heard” I said, 
everyone stared at me… 
“But, I thought you didn’t like ghost stories,” said Isabella. 
“Uh…that’s because I don’t,” I said. “How could you possibly think I would like ghost stories?” 
Everyone shrugged…and then there was a silence, which was interrupted by the farmer’s wife, 
”Thank you, Mr. Robertson, I’m going to go get some blankets, so we can sleep here…” She sighed, then she left the room… 
Isabella and the farmer talked to each other. I myself went to go get some un-ghost related books. As I walked to the bookshelf, I thought I saw a shadow go by. It looked almost like a cat, but it was completely black. It turned a corner, then disappeared into the darkness. I walked back to the room with the books I wanted to read, then sat back down again. Isabella and her father had finished their conversation… “Um, I was wondering do you have a cat?” I asked. 
They both turned around, “No!” said the farmer, “We don’t have a cat. Where did you get that idea?!” 
“Um…I thought I saw a cat—“ I began. 
“Must have been your imagination!” he said, and the conversation was brought to an abrupt end.  
Later that night, I could not sleep a wink. I was constantly woken up by moans and groans, which echoed through the whole house. And at times I was woken up by shadows, and what I thought was the sound of foot-steps… 
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I hope you have a Happy Halloween!:)
Did you like the story? Do you have any favorite stories (or ghost stories)? 

Love, 
-Quinley

P.S. I will probably continue this next October, but since I am going to write a novel version of it (sometime) I decided I will post a few experimental stories (along with my normal stories) throughout the year (just not maybe in chronological order).

Friday, October 6, 2017

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: the new school master? (A short story series)




(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)
Hi Everyone, I'm back from my short break, and since it is October and Halloween is near, I thought it would be fun to share one of my Legend of Sleepy Hollow short stories/Fan fictions.
I am planning on posting the short stories through out October, Enjoy!:) :

                               


                                                          You can also listen to it on YouTube here

                                 You can listen to this while reading...



It was a terrible day when our School Master Ichabod vanished. To tell you the truth, he wasn’t the first to vanish. There were actually a number of school masters that vanished. We even kept track on the wall. Whenever a teacher vanished we would always draw a line, and whenever a new teacher came we knew what would happen. It never was quite happy knowing your teacher would disappear, even if they were strict or they hit your knuckles with the ruler, or even if they put the dunces hat on your head when you got a answer wrong or if they told you to write on the board a hundred times:
 I will never, ever sit in my teacher's chair or…something like that. 

As I was walking to school with my best friend Isabella, we were talking about what could have possibly happened to our most recent school master. 

“They say the Headless Horseman took his head!” said Isabella, “Or turned him into a pumpkin.” 

“Either one seems likely,” I sighed. I heard the leaves rustling as always, but then there was a strange sound. It almost sounded like…”Singing?” I said out-loud. It sounded just like our last school teacher's voice. 

“I hear it, too,” said Isabella, grabbing my hand. “Do you think he’s haunting us?” 

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’m sure it’s just the wind.” 

Suddenly, there was a crack behind us, feet moving closer, and closer... 

“Don’t hurt us, don’t give our head to the headless horse man!” Isabella screamed. 

“What?” Said a voice, that sounded somewhat British. “Why would I do that?”

We turned around, and there stood a man carrying books. He had brown hair, a hooked nose which resembled an eagle’s beak, and light blue eyes. He was rather tall, and wore a black suit which fit him rather tightly. 

“Oh!” said Isabella. 

“Beg your pardon, but I am not a ghost. And I will not give your head to this headless horse thing.” he said, crossly. 

“Actually it’s the headless horse rid—“ I began.

“Also, I am your new school master. You may call me sir or Mr. Robertson. And I will have no talk of ghosts in my class do you understand?” he asked. 


We nodded. 

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Hope you enjoyed reading the story... 

Are you excited for Halloween?
 And did you like the story?


-Quinley

P.S. I will be fixing spelling errors from some posts in 2016, so don't be surprised if anything changes there. 
P.P.S. I will also be responding to comments from my previous posts, as well.