Life Of Writer Novels & Stories

Lara felt inspired to turn her bitter experiences into a book. "Would anyone even buy it? Hehe... why bother reading other people's life stories?" Lara chuckled to herself. But, actually, what she experienced was truly like a story in a romance novel. The difference was, her story fell into the thriller genre, not pure romance. Sometimes, Lara also felt that the scriptwriter of her life was so troublesome. "If only my life were written by someone... I'd definitely visit their house and protest! The writer is so cruel!" Lara grumbled irritably while flipping through the pages of the nearly finished novel.

"Yeah, not yet an official writer. I'm just a synopsis writer. But that's not a problem. From now on, there will be many people who will read my writing. For me, it was a lot of fun." Axel was stunned to see Blair, who looked so happy and excited. A sweet smile bloomed on the girl's lips. Rarely does Blair smile; even more often, she seems gloomy and sad. Unfortunately, Axel only briefly enjoyed Blair's smile. "I will write a story about my life journey, which is problematic. The people who read my writing will learn a lot of lessons and wisdom from the mistakes and stupidity that I have made.” Now Blair is really sombre. She had just regretted one of the phases of her life.

I wasn’t worthy of staying alive anymore, the purpose for my existence was never made clear to me, perhaps I was created to be a stone and accidentally becomes a human being, a stone to be stepped on for all eternity. I gathered all the courage and strength that I could master and scribbled the first few letters of my goodbye letter, a goodbye letter just in case I woke up dead, or decided to end every pathetic little thing that has been going on with my life Dear No one, I have always had a dream, to be a writer, to watch the night sky, to make wishes when meteors are flying high and fast. Above all, I have wanted to be a writer, it is all that I have ever wanted. To publish story boos, nov

" Oh wow, I remember that I once told you that but you didn't believe me as you claimed that only Adults can do that and not teenagers like us. " " I know and I am sorry about that, but you can't blame me really why because almost all the books we read in literature class are written by old men and women so you can't possibly blame me for thinking that way you know. " " I know, Nowadays the ones who write most are youngsters, while some do it for money some also do it for Passion. " " That's true, do you remember the Korean boy I told you about? " " Is it Yun Woo? The Youngest Writer in the World? "

For a few minutes, she had enough time to reflect on her short-lived life. "If only I could live inside my novels, I would be happier than I was today." The line went taut. The struggling was no more. The voiceless storyteller has found her salvation with her eyes closed.

That's why she didn't wanted anyone to be a part of her life ever again. She was afraid that they would eventually leave her alone too... That's what scared her the most...Being left alone...Being left behind... Staring at the wall, her tears stopped flowing, but she still kept looking at the wall with blurry eyes. She had realized today, why she was not able to write about life. Why it was so hard to write the words down about life on a paper...It was because she had not been living but surviving...She thought that Life was an Illusion but that was not true. Everything was real but when you go into survival mode, all seems like an illusion.

When I said chaos, I meant the differences, consequenses and reasons in every article a journalist can write about. Or for those creative writers out there who writes for creative reasons, who create chapters, short stories or poetries for life. They write in messy surroundings but that doesn't mean that they'll start writing in clean places. What I'm saying is, a writer is a messy individual while writing. I'm not saying that writers are filthy persons. They're actually several types of writers but the common denominator is they make their writing places convulated when they write.

There is no greater way to write a book than to write it in the manner it wants to be written. You may feel the need to cultivate a story with a good ending and still end up messing around with the plot as the story unfolds. It was not until I realized that there was a way to tell a story without actually paying reference to the cause that I first thought seriously of writing this story. Three items of my experience combined to make me become aware of the presence of a life form that moves freely in the dark without being noticed. Before I begin this story, I must pay some respect to three wonderful women in my life that has shaped the existence of this story. I honor Leah Fisher for her und

Be sensible. Every word carried a commanding tone. He clearly believed I would react the same way I always had—no matter how he mocked or humiliated my feelings, I'd eventually crawl back, apologizing just to stay by his side. Not this time. I gave a small shrug and tossed the phone straight into the trash can—along with the pathetic life I'd once lived. There was nothing left in this town to miss. My gambling father died years ago. I'd sold the house, and now, with my mother healthy again, we were heading overseas to start anew.

⸻ 🌙 The Writer Understands The Writer slowly stepped forward. ✍️ ⸻ For once… He wasn’t an author. ⸻ Just a lonely person. ⸻ “You watched us leave.” ⸻ Silence nodded. ⸻ “Again.” ⸻ The Writer lowered his gaze. ⸻ Because he remembered. ⸻ Creating stories. Creating worlds. Creating characters. ⸻ Trying to fill emptiness. ⸻ Exactly as she once had. ⸻ 🌙 The Null’s Choice