Novel Manuscript Example Novels & Stories

“Look, I know why you’re doing what you’re doing right now. You can lift your spell and go, because I’m not interested.” As expected, thought Lucas. He had no reason to give up, instead of lifting his spell, he put lots and lots more spell to the door. Then changed his persuasion method a little. “I remember you used to read The Mirror Man, two days ago the author handed us the parchments of his new work. Now, it’s being written into a book as we speak.” Lucas paused and spared a glance at Irina. The tense in her face lessened. Good sign, thought Lucas then he continued. “I briefly read those parchments and the book’s name will be The Outside World.” Lucas smiled as her eyes filled with curi

Inside was a single page of red-lined manuscript paper. ​'Chapter 167 is a bit slow, don't you think, Nora?' the handwriting read. It was the Co-Writer's script—sharp, corrective, and lethal. 'A quiet life in London? A "chance" encounter with a man who has no memory? It’s a cliché. The readers are already getting bored. If you don't provide some Drama soon, the lease on this reality is going to be terminated for lack of engagement.' The Third Knock ​Nora crumpled the paper in her hand. She looked back at Julian, who was now slumped over the table, fast asleep from sheer exhaustion. She looked at Leo, the boy who shouldn't exist, dreaming on her sofa.

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……- I closed my bedroom door and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. That was close. Too close. I looked at my phone. There was no actual call. Just a notification from my writing app. It was the perfect excuse. I crossed to my desk and opened my laptop, pulling up my novel document. The blank page from this morning stared back at me, but now… now I had something to write. My fingers flew over the keyboard. Chapter Title: Mafia Panda He stood there with a spoon in his mouth, looking like the most dangerous man alive , but he was still the cutest. A mafia panda, I thought. Deadly and adorable all at once.

Dear Reader Thank you for reading the first chapter of the book called, My Crazy Normal. My Crazy Normal was originally written as an Interactive Story Game. I am in the process of adapting it into a novel form. The original version contains a great deal of dialogue to fit the platform for which it was intended. Though you can enjoy the story in its interactive format too as currently published. (eg when Kayley speaks, the format will be as this: Kayley ~ “Mike, what an awesome surprise. Where have you been?”)

The quince trees were heavy with fruit — the last harvest before the seedlings would begin bearing in their own time. He came from the study with the manuscript — the full manuscript, which Ernest had seen in sections but not yet in its entirety. He set it on the kitchen table. The manuscript was thick — thicker than The Inside Account had been, thicker than Ernest had expected. He had seen sections as Don wrote them: the chapter about Thomas's grandfather, the chapter about the Japanese family head in the moss, the chapter about the woman whose plants knew her specific hands, the chapter about the eleven-generation garden, the final chapter about the first generation. But he had not seen th

She would be seventy now, or near it, and seventy wasn’t impossible but it called for a different explanation about what the graduating woman had looked like. Or it was someone exploiting the letter. Using the legend of it. Living by the particular knowledge that a solitary initial would accomplish more for Caelum than a name, since an individual was answerable and too extended out an initial was not. He stayed at the kitchen table long after I went to bed. The manuscript lay on the desk in his office that morning, its pages a stack, and he was already writing.

And still, she stepped closer, daring the storm to claim her. Cheesy? Maybe. But also kind of hot. I could live with that. For hours, I got lost in the rhythm of typing and deleting, of imagining and twisting the tension between two people who were clearly doomed but couldn’t stay away. My words came out smoother now and less self-conscious. Until I opened the wrong folder. Or maybe the right one. I hadn’t touched it since the day I left. The Original Manuscript. It was still titled “Breathless Nights”.

I didn't want to use the money in my bank account as I was afraid that they might find my location. I was browsing the internet when I saw a random post about writing a novel. Suddenly, an idea flickered in my mind. I love reading novels, and I tried one time to write a book when I was in college. Emily praised the way I wrote the story. She told me that I have the potential of being a novelist. However, the income of being a writer was not stable. Thus I didn't pursue writing. I focused on having a job with a regular income. I excitedly checked my email. I remembered that I still have the copy of my manuscript in my sent items as I emailed a copy to Emily. And I was right. My manuscript was

Chapter 25: The Master Copy The sun rose higher over the Brooklyn harbor. It cast a glow across the wide-plank floors of the warehouse. Elena stood by the glass display case near the entrance. She watched the light hit the black iron key and the yellowed edges of the recovered Wall Street manuscript. For fifteen years her words had been a product. They were spun quickly to satisfy demanding platforms. They were wrapped in storylines and hidden behind a fake name. Looking at the pages now she didn't see a trap or a writer's cage. She saw where her fiction had broken down the walls of an empire.