Design Your Life Book Novels & Stories

She then sat down in one of the couches while Yang Lifei sat opposite her. “Yeah, I have one here for you. I consider the best of all my designs. I’m hoping you’ll love it too,” Yang Lifei didn’t want to talk about designing at the moment since that wasn’t the reason she was there. Concerning design, it has been so long that she had doubts about it. She handed the envelope to Hilda without removing the contents inside acting all mysterious.

Sandra just fell in love with them immediately she laid her eyes on them. Theresa calmly went through the designs and saw that Rose had neatly arranged an adult design for both men and women, she even made some couple designs and even other accessories. At the bottom of the book, she saw a business plan. Conscientious and detail-oriented. Target customers, pricing strategies, distribution methods, advertising, promotion plans, and every other aspect were all elaborated, even goals and objectives were set for both 5-year and 10-year plans. If she had not seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't believe that it was a plan made by an eighteen year old girl.

She was amazed so she quickly opened it, it was a beautiful sight to behold, each page had it own picture on it, the colour was so nice, you would want to keep staring at it. The designer of the dairies must have put in so much attention and you could clearly see love in every bit of the book. Lillian kept flipping the pages, carefully observing the mixture of colours and the beauty in every bit of picture. The smiles, the glare, the looks, the fun in every single picture made her extremely overwhelmed. "Sweets,when and how did you do it? These are photos taken during our trip,I mean,how?" Lillian asked "Do you need to ask,the power of Money, plus I sent the photos to the designer" Jay said

"Focus." My tiny apartment had transformed over the past three months. The secondhand furniture remained, but now a corner of the living room housed my makeshift design studio—a decent computer purchased with Samantha's money, a drawing tablet, and stacks of design books. My old life as an interior designer for the wealthy had given me skills I could translate to graphic design work online. Anonymous work. Safe work. The babies kicked in unison, as if protesting my late-night session. "Sorry, boys," I whispered, rubbing circles on my belly. "Mommy needs to finish this so we can eat next week."

But how dare he create a journal when she's not the subject of all his novels. The contents of the journal are surely bothering her. The uneasy feeling of opening the first page of a book that contains secrets to one's life is nerve-wracking. Like unfolding the mysteries of an ancient civilization. 'To the stranger who saved me from drowning in love, Shanta.' Kachina winces at the acknowledgement section. She turns to the next page and finally comes across a chapter where she sees a familiar name that made her jump in joy and curl in sadness. 'Kachina... Kachina left me.'

But due to it not specially designed for certain things, deterioration happens faster to most items. "You learned a lot." Ren glanced at the book. Then turned to the rolled-up paper pieces. "But these interest me more. I enjoy artwork and paintings, but I have forgotten them a bit. I am glad you chose this for your personal occupation." "I will do my best to work hard." Two said quickly.

"Yes. Stay as long as you need. We will unpack this. Plan your own thing. Reed designs or something. Your name. Your rules." Inside, I set the box on the table and opened it. Sketches spilled out. The bold neckline one on top. I touched it. "I'm done making myself smaller. That is what I thought when I drew this. Now I have to live it. With one box of my life." Diana sat beside me. "One box is a start. Not the end. You are the brilliant one, the pattern maker, and the fashion designer with vision. They cannot take that."

"It’s how you build your days. It’s the small choices you make to keep the noise out and the light in. It’s the way you tend to your own garden, knowing that nothing else can grow there unless you allow it." He took my hand, his palm rough and warm. "I think you’re right. We spent so much of our lives letting other people be the architects. They told us what our world should look like, how we should function, and what our 'purpose' should be. But this?" He gestured to the dark, quiet expanse of our property. "This is our design."

The cover of the third book was a silent declaration of victory. Where the previous ones had carried dark and uncertain tones, this one displayed a watercolor in golds and deep blues—colors that evoked sunrises over the ocean, promises kept, and horizons that had finally revealed themselves within reach. The title, engraved in handwritten letters like an intimate confession, was simple and revolutionary: “To Live.”

and I believed him because belief is a choice you make every day and I was choosing it now. The next morning I woke up early and sketched a dress I called “Home” and it was simple, no drama, no statement, just soft fabric that felt like being held and a blue stitch at the hem for Lily and James to find, and when I finished I walked into the kitchen and James was making coffee and Lily was drawing at the table and I looked at them and thought this is it, this is the life I ran for, this ordinary, messy, beautiful life where I get to be loved without earning it and be safe without hiding.