Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

The last time I passed by the house it was derelict and overgrown, regressing to an Irish-style wilderness.

Her writing became bolder. In the long, lonely hours alone, she ruminated over the fate of those captured.

Second Place Winner of the "Vultures & Doves: Social Issues of Our Time" Poetry Competition. "Korean Survivors of the Japanese 'Comfort...

. Good Trouble I was fifteen in a small Alabama town when I first heard your name John Lewis, then Edmund Pettus Bridge. Their clubs...

Written by Reed Venrick. Take the leafy, shaded path—follow the boardwalk, enter the Nakajima Teahouse—a name translating to "in the...

Dark skin, melanin Clearheaded and educated And now obviously frustrated From all the history books rewritten I know you expect us to...

History Class Begins Again From the playground where they play, call the children back to class and school, teach the lessons they're...