Narnia Writing Novels & Stories

Julian said, "Deal." Elena started typing. The words came easily. They matched the rhythm of the city. She was not writing about people or ghosts anymore. She was writing about a man and a woman who survived the times and found themselves in a better place. The Rossi Events warehouse was going to be The Narrative. Elena was writing about Julian and her. They were the story now. The Narrative was their beginning.

At first, it felt like a complete family, something that had never happened to me for ages. As she poured soup into my bowl, Mrs. Wilson said, "Sienna, I heard you're back to writing. What happened?” "I looked at her with some astonishment, and she said yes," I could. “I've just completed a manuscript for securing prestigious writing competitions.” "I'm glad to hear that," she exclaimed softly. "Liam, I heard you." Your writing abilities have always been impressive. Was it your practice to compose brief verses for Noah? My expression softened, a sense of humiliation at the memory. "Yes, I still write small things like that."

Ryan suggests, tacking on a hasty, “no offense, Your Majesty.” “He doesn’t get to take offense in here,” I remind Ryan. “Remember, this is informal.” “Well, who has better handwriting?” Nathan demands, annoyed. He sits in the chair next to mine. I just shrug. “Not me, that’s for sure.” Hannah gets up, erases the nightmare scribbles, and sets about making three columns. She titles them, “werewolves,” “thralls,” and “unknown.” “She was born for this,” I whisper to Nathan.

Back to when I was just Aria, daughter of Robert, student with dreams. "Fantasy," I say slowly. "Magic. Worlds that don't exist. Escape." "Then write that. Create a world where bonds are celebrated. Where love is simple. Where people don't have to fight to exist." "You think I can?" "I think you survived Adrian Hayes. Writing a book should be easy in comparison." It's not easy. But over the next hour, I manage three paragraphs. Three paragraphs about a girl who discovers magic and a boy who teaches her to use it. Nothing profound. Nothing publishable. But words on a page that aren't about trauma.

She wasn't seeing the bridge; she was seeing the Nebula of the Drafts. ​"There," Nora whispered, pointing toward a swirling, iridescent cloud of violet and grey that had appeared where the Willow Tree once stood. "The graveyard of the 'What-Ifs.' Papa, that’s where the Author hides the characters he didn't use. It’s a space of Un-Narrated Friction." ​"Take us in, Elia," Kael commanded. "If the Ink-Man wants to finish the book, let’s see how he handles the parts he threw away."

Hello, everyone. My name is Ghloriyah and I'm a university student, doubling as a writer in my free time. I mostly write stories from the fantasy and chicklit genre. But I have plans to branch into different genres, in the future. Araknee: The Lost Princess is the first book I'll be uploading here. I will appreciate any feedback on my story so please don't hesitate to leave any comments. I love hearing from my readers. Thanks for taking time off your busy schedules to read my work. I update everyday at 5pm (West African Time) so please be on the look out. Thanks for your time and have a wonderful day.

As he was already well dressed. While Nella was a little clumsy for today, she skipped her breakfast and took the book for reading while traveling in the bus so that after she is done reading it, she gets free time at night to write reviews for it and summit that to the library for publishing. [Author: Well that's for today! I hope you liked it. Somehow I managed to publish it. Let's see what happens ahead in Noah and Nella's journey. I am so excited to write about them. Many secrets are gonna be disclosed in upcoming chapters so stay tuned!]

Three days later, Henry and Anna quit to form Steine and Steine publishing. Anna made herself comfortable on the couch, determined to finish reading Nate’s manuscript before the sun came up. He was a talented writer, she observed, even if the text was dry. Anna attributed his writing style to his professorial background more than that of a creative writer, but the prose held her interest, even if he had told her most of the content at lunch. The description of Vashti’s escape from her fate was exactly what her dream character had told her what Anna had previously read. What astonished her was Nate’s description of the main character herself. The fact that Vashti had a daughter, but raised he

Dante said. Elian went upstairs. Dante heard the study sounds start — the pulling voice, the pen, the pace of having-been. The fifth chapter was being written, and it contained Nadia and Nino and the infinite series and the specific wave that was the ocean, and the fourth novel was finding its depth.