Narnia Writing Novels & Stories

Just a man of eighty-something who has been in pack governance his entire life, who wrote a letter to a man in another territory and started something he did not fully anticipate, standing in an archive on the first day of April watching it arrive somewhere. Talia has her hand on her father’s shoulder. Edrin is looking at the document with the expression of a man who has been carrying something for twenty-three years and has finally put it on a table where it can be seen. Nara is writing. Of course Nara is writing. She has been writing since we entered the restricted section, in the small precise hand I recognise from her analyses, capturing what she is seeing and what she is observing and w

“Um, I would rather you didn’t. I told you I don’t let anyone read what I write.” “Could letting me read just a little bit be so bad?” She looked at me for a minute before saying, “I’m embarrassed to let anyone read what I write. Plus, I have been writing this for months, even before I met you. So, the story has nothing to do with you.” “And why are you telling me that it has nothing to do with me?” I asked as I raised an eyebrow. “Because, well, it has a character named Nathaniel in it. I just didn’t want you to think I had put you in the story because I didn’t. So if I’m going to let you read it, I thought you should know.”

Nyra said: "She has been reading since she learned to focus her eyes at consistent depth. We just did not know what she was reading." He sat with that. He said: "She knows the curriculum." Nyra said: "Most of it." He said: "What does she not know." Nyra said: "Section seven. I have not finished writing it yet." He said: "Write faster." Nyra said: "I know." She picked up her pen. She went to the alcove. She wrote. Outside the mountain was the mountain. Inside Caela was in dialogue with the Covenant senior scholar about topology and acoustics.

⸻ Toward evening, I set the house: half the lamps out, every second candle lit, doors closed, grates silent. The nurse begins the bedtime rhythm — no story, no melody, just a low, steady murmur. The children have tuned to it these past weeks. In the suite, Nyra flips through her journal. She doesn’t intend to fill it — just pins two words beside the date. I step closer. “What did you write?” I ask. “Measurement holds.” She looks up. “That’s enough for today.” I sit beside her. No embrace — the whole day’s been cadence; let it stay so.

The mighty moon watched over us, a silent witness to our love and the promises of a future filled with joy and endless possibilities. __________ Dear readers, What an amazing journey this has been! A whole year ago, I embarked on the adventure of writing this novel, and alongside the resilient Nesta, I have witnessed myself grow and let go of the fears that once bound me. It's been a transformative experience, and I couldn't be more grateful for your support throughout.

It all depends on one thing: whether you are willing to do the work. Tips Some links of the help you might need: GN Homepage GN F* page https://www.f******k.com/groups/goodnovelwriters And of course, my page on F*, it's a workshop for outlines, plots and all you can think of about writing~ https://www.f******k.com/InkerWoolf/ Q2 How do I get an exclusive contract on GN? Any tips? Any tricks? Any standards? Nope. ONLY good stories can get you exclusive contracts, nothing else.

About the Author Nethaniah Miesha (Author's pen name) is an eighteen year old college student who's been fond of written literature and novels since her childhood. Even though she's been a fan of writing stories, she couldn't find the motivation to finish a story until 'What is Love?'. She believes that her writing has a purpose and that she's writing for a reason.

Nathan was out and out an author and he still loved writing despite the horrific experiences he had had for the past few months. Of course, he still had plans to finish the work in an hour or two so that he could check on his two companions and then get some sleep. Nathan was not at all nervous for the three masters since he, as a mortal, had a blind belief that extraordinary beings like Ley were very hard to kill or harm. ‘I think, this is where I wrap up this chapter,’ he thought, still typing. Then he paused for a while to reread the previous strings of conversation in his story.

There was too many of them. I stared desperately from the shifting fog back to the Erelim again. Fear engulfed me. Pushed my face into the pillow. I screwed my eyes tight shut. 'Once a King or Queen of Narnia, Casey Brogan', whispered Mr Tumnus, slipping his warm hand into mine, 'always a King or Queen of Narnia.' My eyes flew open.

🚪✨ ⸻ The Writer whispered: ⸻ “No…” The Mother looked shocked. ⸻ Because she finally understood. ⸻ The door led somewhere impossible. ⸻ A place beyond destiny. ⸻ A place beyond authors. ⸻ A place beyond stories. ⸻ The Realm of Possibility. ⸻ 😨 ⸻ 🌙 Nyra’s Smile For the first time since her return… Nyra laughed. ❤️ ⸻ A real laugh. ⸻ A hopeful laugh. ⸻