How To Show Thoughts In Writing Novels & Stories

Dear readers, Notice that there is a slight difference in the way the story is written. The following are elements included in the book and what they depict: (** **) : Instead of inverted commas, this is used to depict thought. (**" "**) : It is used to depict; narration, and/ or flashbacks. Whenever a character is telling a story or recalling a flashback, this is normally used. ("^ ^") : It is used to depict written words, texts or messages. Whenever a character sends or replies to a message via mobile devices, this is normally used.

Have you even bothered to find out the author of your thoughts? – What the author of my thoughts I did not bother to find out? – Now you tell me, child of the Soviet perestroika! What are your thoughts?! Your thoughts are a retelling of what you were told on TV! Your thoughts are what the teacher at the University told you! Your thoughts are what your parents instilled in you, your thoughts are what you were taught in school! Your thoughts are what your authority said! To write your thought, you have to puff like a miner in a mine. I couldn't even see your thoughts in the microscope! Are you still going to tell me about your thoughts?! Great minds have been writing for years to convey their

Abigail's pov - I am immersed in my writing, my thoughts entwined with the intricate threads of a new plot. It sounds promising, at least in the confines of my own mind. If I'm content with it, perhaps my readers will be too. My fingers tap rhythmically on the keyboard, each keystroke a dance of creativity as I attempt to weave words into a captivating tapestry.

> She thought: of course. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She thought: there will always be more to write. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She thought: that's how you know it's working.

And I was like a thorn in the middle, driving them away from each other. “But it is a story for another day, yes?” She recovers and plasters a smile onto her face. “Now, you try. It is fairly easy—just find the thread connecting your thoughts to his’, hold onto it, and speak in your mind.” I sigh and close my eyes. Fine, let’s try this out. If I am in denial now, mayhap this is the way to convince myself.

I explained but he was confused, the confusion was written all over his face. "Except I kiss you, or make you open up to me, I can't hear your thoughts" I elucidated. "So you mean you knew I didn't believe you by kissing me?" He asked and I nodded. "So right now you don't know what I'm thinking? He asked watching my expression closely. "Yes" I replied firmly. "Okay...try to tell me what I'm thinking right now" he said trying to kiss me but I stopped him. "It won't work because your mind will be closed to me except I am able to distract you" I sighed.

The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow: he wasn't coming. The safe distance he had created was absolute. He had chosen to be a weapon, and he had chosen to keep me out of the line of fire. ​I pulled out my journal, the one place where I could exist as Clara. I opened to a blank page and started to write ​Julian. ​They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but it only makes the silence louder. I sit here and drink my coffee, and I wonder if you are doing the same somewhere else.

“That sizzling sensation you feel scorching through your body, it’s the bond between us that you are feeling.” “Get out of my head!” I rolled my eyes at him, annoyed with the fact that he could read my thoughts at any moment. “Don’t you think it’s rude to pop into people’s heads like that?” “No.” He shrugged as though he didn’t care at all about having manners. “It’s actually quite fun. You see, everyone has thoughts in the back of their mind that even they push so far back there that they forget they exist. Secrets, regrets, desires. It’s like a maze to make my way into there, but the challenge is intriguing, and I enjoy finding what people like to hide from even themselves.”

They deserved to know what was happening—and I needed to stop feeling so damn alone in it. Closing my eyes, I reached inward, drawing on both my magic and the ancient power coiled beneath it. I pictured them clearly—each face, each etched into my mind with painful clarity. Then I wove a mind path. The world shifted. I stepped through thought itself, following the thread until I found them. When I did, I gently dropped my message into their minds, holding the path open long enough to feel their reactions—shock first, startled, then recognition, and finally a hesitant calm.

No one wanted to know their thoughts weren't their own, that somebody was always listening in. "I can't stop it and it happens on its own," I said gently, reassuring him as best as I could while explaining it, even if it was a poor attempt. "But sometimes, even when it's just that one person and me, and the thoughts that come across are clear, there can be emotions that are even heavier than the words. And a lot of the time, people don't think in words anyway. It's mostly impressions, images, feelings. It's a relief most times since that makes it easier to tune it out."