Fictional Narrative Ideas Novelas e Histórias

“I believe in you but what’s important is do you believe in yourself?” “I do.” “That’s what matters. As long as you believe in yourself, everyone’s opinions don’t matter.” “Do you think so?” “I know so.” “I have written a lot of short stories which i haven’t shown to anyone.” “Really?” “Yes.” “I would love to read them.” “I’m excited about the new story i thought of.” “What is it about?” “It’s about the most notorious crime family in Zambia.” “That sounds interesting.” “I don’t know where the idea came from but each and every day, it grows stronger,” Ludo smiled.

“I believe in you but what’s important is do you believe in yourself?” “I do.” “That’s what matters. As long as you believe in yourself, everyone’s opinions don’t matter.” “Do you think so?” “I know so.” “I have written a lot of short stories which i haven’t shown to anyone.” “Really?” “Yes.” “I would love to read them.” “I’m excited about the new story i thought of.” “What is it about?” “It’s about the most notorious crime family in Zambia.” “That sounds interesting.” “I don’t know where the idea came from but each and every day, it grows stronger,” Ludo smiled.

It is times like this that I am grateful I do not have any siblings. I sat on my bed and he sat on the couch. "So... Why do you leave your old school?" "Nothing serious. My mum just decided that we needed a change of environment and I am glad I agreed because It was a chance to meet great people like you and the girls." "Aww." He said in a girlish way. "That sounds so weird and funny." I chuckled. "Let's play a game. Any suggestions?" He asked. "Uhmm... Let's play two truths and a lie!"

CHAPTER 18 DAYLIGHT AIDEN I write and sometimes I paint. At first I started with writing stories, stories of strong heroes who went off to distant lands to vanquish powerful foes and bring honor to their kingdoms. I wrote of princesses trapped in magical towers, fated to live a life dictated by their horrible conniving mother but through the power of true love and determination manage to free themselves from such a fate. One time I wrote of a ghost that haunted a village for a hundred years but that ghost was actually a misunderstood little boy longing for a friend.

Xavier said, his voice tinged with curiosity, "I can't help but wonder who you were before you ended up on my doorstep. Before being Nemesis and besides the assassin stuff . The possibilities are endless, you could have been anyone… made we've even crossed paths before" I tilted my head, a playful smile dancing on my lips. "Oh, really? Haven't we made up enough tales already?" He chuckled, the sound like music to my ears. "Perhaps, but I can't resist exploring the possibilities. What if you were a secret agent, trained in the art of espionage? Or maybe a renowned archaeologist, discovering lost civilizations?" The absurdity of our fictional narratives brought laughter bubbling up from deep w

After all, every person is unique like Rayene was funny and out going but Henry was a smiling person who could laugh at your baddest jokes but couldn't crack one himself. "Okay, so in our world we don't have real vampires like here. But, we have stuff that works on engines and there are even books on people like you." "So, it's your ancestry that no longer exists?" I asked as little confused. "No! No! They are fictional characters!" "What's fictional characters?" "Well, they are something that exists only in your imagination. And, then you put those imaginative characters on paper. And, boom! Fictional characters are born." Rayene explained while moving her hands in all directions while I no

“You have a handsome husband. I mean the father of your child and your hidden son with him. How did you manage to be away with them? It's been five years, you don't have regrets?” I was dumbfounded for a few seconds. How can I give her a response? The narratives were only made up. It was way more complicated than this. Lucas did not even argue with me the way I introduced them. Instead, he loves the idea. He told me that I could be the best writer if I started writing some fictional story. I just glared at him in return. He can't figure out that it's because of them. I am now lying to my neighbors and my staff and making up stories so our cases can't become more complicated. I don't know if

What an idiot I am. "So, you're not going back to the class am I right!?" he asked and after thinking for a while I realized if I go back down Eros will say that I've went somewhere to hoe around and must have slept with a man in the mean time. But why did he thing so, I don't know. I'm still unaware of that. Those things which I saw earlier as a vision or something wasn't there in the fanfic I've read. What is it? Did I miss reading the chapters or the author didn't think it was that important to mention the back story of a villainess who died a pathetic death.

For, your dreams are more or less your distant realities. It has taken eight, long, seemingly never ending days to write the story that never was. Jahnobi’s story I mean. It’s been an arduous process, trying to pick fiction out of stale recurrences, to find dots which could be connected, to see the cinematic and dramatic in daily chores and then to find time to document those amid the never-ending swarm of visitors, between the preparation for the rituals of the eleventh day and the ceremonial lunch on the twelfth day.

ARCANE DELIGHTS I slowly close the journal, settle it in my lap and gaze at its black leather-bound cover. I rub its pebbled surface lightly, thinking. Only stories. These are only stories. Fantastical stories. A little more fantastical than I usually prefer, though well-written, by someone with a much greater command of the craft than I yet possess. The vivid characterization, meticulous attention to detail and a surreal sense of place makes me want to believe these stories happened, but I know they couldn’t have, and am ready to dismiss them as nothing more than fiction . . .