To My Site
I'm Victor Grant
I am author of two novels, a poetry collection, many short stories and poetry pieces, the latter of which you can view for free. I am in the middle twenties and my favorite author is F. Scott Fitzgerald. I enjoy prowling through the shaded recesses of literature and venturing by the older, time-swept titles. I, too, have a penchant for art arising from the first half of the previous century.
Ever since I can remember I've rhymed, created stories and written them down. My imagination has been stirred by the childhood novels of Astrid Lindgren and Michael Ende and the stories of Hans Christian Andersen. And moving further into the years, the works of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemingway, Ray Bradbury, J. D. Salinger, Ring Lardner and Lord Alfred Douglas.
I am author of 'When Does the Sorrow End,' 'A Sound from Above' and 'Sunken Sunlight.' You may read more concerning the aforementioned titles by selecting the book covers on this page and view acclamation of the works from the Reviews tab under Read and Follow. You may read innumerable poetry and prose pieces of mine on My Facebook Page, join Poetry & Prose - a FB group constituting of a large assortment of enlightening poetry of mine, write to me personally and buy the books in order to get a glimpse of far islands, lost loves, youthful yearnings, Hollywood's brilliancy within the tick of many pencils and computer keys, passions wilting through vibrant poetic melody, haunting memories and so much more!
The Literary Sideline:
I have augmented my line of work and have contributed pieces into the CreepyPasta sphere. You may enjoy filtering through these horror-induced works and drop in for professional narration of them by taking a peek to the right or selecting the CreepyPasta tab under Read and Follow.
— Sifting in the darkened hours
Through the works of Sorrow and of Light
Glistening with moon-drenched flowers
Of fainter singing stems and brimming throats
With the vivaciousness of a pen in the lonely night
And the soft magnetic wonder of poetry and many dots
Sighs still whispering in the stillness of sight à