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Short Fiction Story

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

19 Chapters

Into the Fiction

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.

17 Chapters

Deep Inside (Erotica short story collections)

WARNING: This book is dripping in sin. It contains unapologetically explicit smut—raw, steamy, and wildly taboo. If you're not into filthy fantasies, solo indulgence, beast x human, wolf x wolf or human heat, dominant billionaire bosses, fae seductions, or lust-fueled encounters with no strings attached, turn back now. But if you're craving a no-holds-barred ride through 170 explosive, pulse-pounding steamiest stories that will leave your body aching and your imagination on fire, welcome, my daring guest. Everything here is pure fantasy, purely mine. Read at your own risk... of intense arousal.

157 Chapters

Wrecking His Marriage (Short Story Collection)

Some love stories are destined to be destructive. In this gripping collection of short dark romance stories, explore the blurred lines of desire, betrayal, and forbidden passion. Each story delves into the chaotic world of an affair, where star-crossed lovers make dangerous choices and confront the fallout of their reckless hearts. From stolen moments to shattered lives, these characters learn the true cost of a love that can wreck everything. Brace yourself for a journey into the shadows, where secrets fester, and the most intoxicating love is often the most tragic. _____ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters, relationships, and events depicted are products of the author's imagination and are intended for entertainment purposes only. The author does not condone, romanticize, or encourage the toxic behaviors and actions of the characters, such as infidelity or harmful relationship dynamics. These elements are used for dramatic storytelling and do not reflect the author's real-life values or advice. This book is rated 18 and not suitable for young audiences.

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8 Chapters

Science fiction: The believable impossibilities

When I loved her, I didn't understand what true love was. When I lost her, I had time for her. I was emptied just when I was full of love. Speechless! Life took her to death while I explored the outside world within. Sad trauma of losing her. I am going to miss her in a perfectly impossible world for us. I also note my fight with death as a cause of extreme departure in life. Enjoy!

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82 Chapters

Shifter Short Stories

This is a book of shifter short stories. All of these stories came from readers asking me to write stories about animals they typically don't see as shifters. The stories that are in this series are - Welcome to the Jungle, Undercover, The Storm, Prize Fighter, The Doe's Stallion The Biker Bunnies The Luna's Two Mates

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131 Chapters

How Can I Adapt A Short Fiction Story Into A Short Film?

3 Answers2025-08-24 11:16:11

I get a little giddy thinking about this — turning a short piece of fiction into a short film is like translating a poem into a song: you keep the soul and find new ways to make people feel it. First, I read the story until the lines blur and the beats live in my head. Identify the emotional spine — what the protagonist wants, what they lose or gain, and the one image or moment that sums the whole thing up. For a short film you usually can’t keep every subplot or internal monologue, so pick one clear conflict and let everything else serve that.

Next, I sketch a visual outline. I think in images, so I map scenes as shots: opening image, a key turning point, and a final image that resolves emotionally even if it’s ambiguous narratively. Convert important exposition into visuals or a single, well-placed line of dialogue. Then write a tight script where every scene either moves the plot or deepens character. I once adapted a sub-1500-word flash piece and cut a third of the scenes; the result felt truer to the original mood because it breathed on screen.

Practical stuff: plan for constraints. Design scenes around locations you can access, cast with friends who can hold a camera if needed, and keep the crew small. Think about sound and music early — a piece of music or a particular ambient noise can carry emotion when you don’t have time for more lines. Finally, edit ruthlessly, screen for friends, and submit to short film festivals. That path — from focused adaptation to lean production — is what turns a short story into a short film that actually lands.

How Can I Craft An Opening For A Short Fiction Story?

3 Answers2025-08-24 06:40:50

I was once stuck staring at a blank doc while my coffee cooled, and then I started playing with the idea that the opening line is a tiny elevator pitch for a mood rather than a plot summary. That changed how I write openings: I think in terms of immediate sensations, a small action, or a surprising claim that makes me want to keep reading.

Try writing three different first lines for the same story and pick the one that makes you itch to continue. One could be an image — "The rain kept tallying the footsteps on the porch steps." Another could be a character voice — "Nobody ever told me how to leave a town, so I made a list." A third could be a direct hook — "By the time the comet crossed the sky, the city had already decided who would survive." These are tiny promises about mood, stakes, or voice.

Then layer: follow that first sentence with a brief, concrete detail that answers one of two reader questions — who is this, or what just happened? Keep sentences fairly short at the start, let the rhythm pull people in, and be willing to revise the opening after you finish the story. Sometimes the real opening only becomes obvious once I know where the plot actually lands, and that discovery is the fun part.

How Can I Write A Gripping Short Fiction Story?

3 Answers2025-08-24 16:02:54

My brain always lights up when someone asks how to make a short story grip a reader — there's so much fun in the tiny, sharp form. Start by picking a single kernel: a character with a secret, a small decision with big consequences, or a striking first line you can't stop thinking about. Don't try to cram an epic into the space of a short piece; instead, magnify one moment until it feels like the whole world. I often work from images — a cracked teacup, a train that never arrives — and ask myself what one small event would mean for the person holding it.

Voice is everything. If I read a draft and the voice feels bland, I toss in details that only this narrator would notice: an odd simile, a private fear, a tiny habit. Sensory detail anchors a short piece quickly — the smell of an orange peel, the scrape of rain on a windowsill — so the reader is inside the scene without long setup. Games I play: write the opening line, then skip ahead and write the ending, then fill the middle. That reverse approach helps keep momentum and makes sure every scene drives to the payoff.

Practical hacks that saved my drafts: limit yourself to two or three characters, keep the time span tight (an hour, a night, a weekend), and let the conflict be specific and personal. Cut indulgent exposition ruthlessly. Read shorts like 'The Tell-Tale Heart' or 'Hills Like White Elephants' to feel how compactness works. Finally, don't fear ambiguity — a resonant question can be more gripping than a neat bow. I'm always excited to see what single unusual choice you'll turn into a tiny, fierce story.

How Can I Make A Short Fiction Story Ideal For Anthologies?

3 Answers2025-08-24 09:36:56

My first instinct is to treat the short as a compact performance—think of it like crafting a killer set for an open-mic night. Start with a single, clear idea or emotional beat and make every sentence serve that. I often jot one-sentence summaries in the margins of whatever I'm reading (yep, guilty of scribbling in the margins of 'The Twilight Zone' collections on lazy Sundays), and that practice forces me to distill the story's essence before I type a single paragraph.

Pick a tight point of view and stick to it. For anthologies, editors want something instantly readable and memorable: a sharp hook, an immediate problem, and a satisfying resonance by the last line. Trim subplots mercilessly. I like to write a first draft where anything goes, then spend an equal amount of time ruthlessly pruning—cutting characters who don't advance the theme, collapsing scenes that repeat information, and sharpening dialogue so it reveals character and moves the plot.

Finally, follow submission guidelines like a ritual. Read the anthology's previous volumes or the editor's notes to match tone and length, tailor your cover letter to highlight why your piece fits, and polish until you can read your opening aloud without stumbling. I usually save the last polish for a morning when coffee and sunlight make the prose feel new again. If you can make an emotional beat linger in under 5,000 words, editors will notice, and you'll enjoy the weird, small joy of seeing your compact world printed on someone else's nightstand.

How Can I Write A Twist Ending In A Short Fiction Story?

3 Answers2025-08-25 22:40:33

There's nothing I love more than a story that quietly rearranges everything you thought you knew — the gasp, the reread, the little smile when the clues snap into place. I was on a late-night train once, reading 'The Sixth Sense' style reveals in a battered paperback, and I spent the rest of the ride dissecting how the author had hidden the truth in plain sight. That sense of craft is what I try to bottle when I write twists.

Start by deciding what emotional truth you want the twist to highlight. A twist should illuminate character, not just trick the reader. Plant tiny, concrete clues early: a stray object, an offhand line of dialogue, a sensory detail. Make them unobtrusive but specific enough that on a second read they feel inevitable. I like to choose one leitmotif — a sound, a smell, a recurring phrase — and let it appear in scenes that later get recast.

Don’t confuse surprise with betrayal. The reveal must be honest inside the logic of your story. That means the twist rewrites the reader’s understanding but doesn’t contradict established facts; instead it reinterprets them. Play with perspective (an unreliable narrator or a false protagonist can work wonders), manage your pacing so the reveal lands clean, and then go back and prune: remove anything that telegraphs too obviously, beef up subtle clues, and test it on a friend who’ll tell you if it feels cheap. Try writing a 1,000-word piece where you reverse-engineer the twist first — it’s surprisingly freeing and teaches you how to plant breadcrumbs well.

How Do I Craft Believable Dialogue In A Short Fiction Story?

3 Answers2025-08-25 15:52:33

There’s a little habit I picked up that changed my dialogue scenes: I started eavesdropping like a guilty, curious tourist. Sitting in cafes, on trains, or even waiting for a pizza, I’d tuck away lines that felt alive — the half-finished sentences, the friendly insults, the tiny fights about nothing. When I write, I try to bring that texture back. Real speech is messy, full of starts and stops, and it rarely spells out the obvious. So I lean into subtext: what a character refuses to say is often more interesting than what they do say.

Practically, I sketch character voice first. I jot three shorthand notes: desire, secret, and a repetitive tic (a favorite phrase, an odd metaphor, something like that). Then I write a rapid scene where they’re forced to interact, and I let their tics surface. I cut taglines like 'he said' unless the beat needs clarity — sometimes an action does the job: he flung the mug, she tightened her jaw. Short sentences = tension; longer, winding sentences = comfort or rambling. I also read the scene aloud or record myself; when I hear where it trips, I rewrite. That’s when dialogue stops sounding like exposition and starts sounding like breathing.

A small craft trick I love: give each character a different relationship to silence. One might fill pauses with jokes, another with sardonic silence, a third with too many clarifying questions. That contrast instantly makes exchanges feel lived-in. It’s the sort of thing that takes a few honest people-watching sessions and a willingness to cut your favorite clever line if it doesn’t feel true in the moment.

Are The A7x Fiction Lyrics Based On A Short Story?

2 Answers2025-08-23 05:39:35

There’s a lot of lore and fan-theory energy around Avenged Sevenfold songs, and 'Fiction' is one that invites a lot of close reading — but no, as far as I know, the lyrics weren’t adapted from a short story. They grew out of the band’s own creative process and, poignantly, from material left by Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan. I say this as someone who’s been in the online trenches with A7X fans for years: people love stitching narratives, and the way 'Fiction' reads like a compact, eerie little tale makes it ripe for that. Still, the origin is more musical and personal than literary in the short-story sense.

What actually happened, to the best of what the band and multiple interviews have shared, is that pieces of 'Fiction' were written or demoed by The Rev before he died. The track on 'Nightmare' includes some vocal parts that were taken from his demo, and the band finished the arrangement and added or polished parts afterward. That gives 'Fiction' a unique feel — it’s intimate, somewhat fractured, and alternates between dream logic and blunt, painful clarity. Fans sometimes treat it like a short story because the lyrics sketch a small, intense scene: confronting death, memory, denial, and an almost theatrical sense of revelation. But that’s more a songwriting style than evidence of a prose source.

If you’re reading it as a narrative, you’ll get a lot out of the song: it feels cinematic, and the structure — short stanzas, repeating motifs, a chorus that doubles as a grim punchline — reads like a condensed story. That’s why some people ask about a short-story origin. I personally find it more moving when treated as a real emotional fragment from The Rev’s notebooks and voice memos, given the context. The band’s decision to include his performances and words makes 'Fiction' feel like a conversation across loss, which is different from an adaptation of someone else’s fiction. It’s more like the band turning a private document into a public, musical moment.

If you’re hunting for a short story that inspired the lyrics, you won’t find an official one. But if you’re looking for a story in the lyrics themselves — a micro-tale about mortality and self-deception — 'Fiction' delivers in spades. For anyone who likes tracing inspirations, I’d recommend reading interviews around the 'Nightmare' release and checking the liner notes; they give context without reducing the song to a single origin point. Personally, I still get chills hearing those demo lines — it’s like finding a small, raw manuscript hidden in a drawer, turned into a shared song rather than a printed short story.

How Long Should I Make A Short Fiction Story For Magazines?

3 Answers2025-08-24 08:45:34

I'm the sort of person who carries a ridiculous stack of magazines to cafés and times my reading by espresso shots, so thinking about story length feels like second nature to me. If you want a practical rule of thumb: flash fiction usually lives under 1,000 words (often 300–1,000), while what most people call a short story sits anywhere between 1,000 and 7,500 words. Many general-interest and genre magazines tend to favor the 1,500–4,000 range because that's a comfortable reading time for an evening commute or a coffee break.

When I submit, I tailor length to the market. Literary mags like 'The New Yorker' or certain university journals will lean longer and more lyrical; genre markets such as 'Clarkesworld', 'Asimov’s', or 'Fantasy & Science Fiction' often publish tight, idea-driven pieces and commonly accept 1,500–5,000 words. If you want to maximize your chances, aim for the sweet spot of about 1,500–3,500 words: it’s short enough to read quickly but long enough to develop character and plot. Always check each magazine’s guidelines (and their usual story lengths) via resources like 'Duotrope' or the 'Submission Grinder'.

Finally, think of the story’s rhythm. If your premise is a single striking moment, flash or short-short is perfect; if it needs character arcs and reveals, give it room up to a few thousand words. Keep your prose lean, open with a clear hook, and trim anything that doesn’t serve theme or tension. Personally I bring down manuscripts with multiple passes and a timer: if a clean, shaped story reads under ten minutes, it’s probably magazine-friendly. Try a couple of markets with matching length and see what lands — every rejection taught me how to tighten, and that’s half the fun.

How Do I Submit A Short Fiction Story To Literary Journals?

3 Answers2025-08-24 19:24:23

I get a little giddy talking about submissions—there’s something about polishing a piece and sending it out that feels like mailing a tiny, hopeful letter into the world. My process starts with research: I read recent issues of magazines I like (I keep a little stack of print issues and a folder of PDFs) so I know their tone, length preferences, and whether they publish the kind of weird/quiet/hard-boiled things I write. Then I check the submission guidelines on their website or Submittable page—this is sacred. If they want double-spaced 12pt Times New Roman, that’s what they get; if they want single-spaced or a particular file type, I follow that exactly.

When it comes to formatting, I treat the manuscript like a professional artifact: title centered on the first page, word count at the top or in the file name if requested, no name on the manuscript if they ask for blind submissions, and I usually upload a .docx unless they say otherwise. My cover letter is short—two to four lines. I say hello, give the title and word count, mention a relevant previous credit if I have one, and thank them for considering it. If a journal uses email, I paste the story into the body only if they explicitly ask; otherwise I attach. I always declare if it’s a simultaneous submission and withdraw promptly if it’s accepted elsewhere.

Practical tools keep me sane: I track submissions in a spreadsheet (title, date sent, response time, simultaneous allowed?), and I use Duotrope or The Submission Grinder to find markets and estimate response times. Rejections burn for a second and then I revise or send elsewhere. After a few rounds you learn to match story to journal better, which feels like leveling up. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, but every accept is the best kind of caffeine.

How Can I Create Catchy Titles For A Short Fiction Story Collection?

3 Answers2025-08-25 09:40:24

I get a little giddy every time I need to name a collection — it’s like naming a band or a cafe, and that pressure can be delicious. My go-to process starts with mood-first thinking: what feeling do the stories share? If they’re sleepy and domestic, I lean into soft nouns and gentle verbs; if they’re sharp and weird, I hunt for an odd image or verb combo. I scribble a long raw list of words from the collection — repeated images, locations, objects, verbs — then mash them together until something clicks. For a recent project I brewed coffee, read a few opening lines, and wrote every striking noun on sticky notes. A title formed when I noticed three notes that looked good together: 'Paper Suns and Broken Radios' — meaningless, evocative, and true to the tone.

Another trick I love is borrowing the shape of a standout line from one story and reworking it. Pull a phrase, shorten it, turn it into a fragment, or make it a question. Sometimes an anchor story supplies a perfect hook: picking the strongest piece and using its central image as the collection title gives coherence. I also test rhythm — say the phrase out loud, try it at the top of a mock table of contents, imagine how it sits on a cover. Alliteration and contrast can help: 'Small Fires, Big Rooms' says two things at once and sticks in the mouth.

Finally, I try everything on friends, my writing group, and a handful of strangers in different demographics. If everyone nods or says, "That sounds like something I’d pick up," you’re onto something. Mock up a cover with your top three and see which one still feels right when you reduce it to a thumbnail; titles that survive tiny sizes usually survive real life too.