Person Writing Novels & Stories

He nodded and looked away. "You adorable little thing" i whispered and gave him a peck of kiss. I stood up and tidied my clothes "I'll be going to work now, See you later" i said and walked out. My smile is from ear to ear while walking. I'm excited to give my gift to Zax, it's a phone case with a cute dog designed. I just saw this while walking and it made me remember him because he's like a puppy. "Excuse me, by chance do you know Kain Shizu?" A man in suit asked me.

“I don’t believe it.” I said and folded my arms. He shrugged his shoulders in response. Not like it mattered who was richer. I have my own money. Might not be enough to feed a thousand people for three hundred years but enough to keep me warm and fed for a lifetime. “You are very interesting to be around and you have a habit of zooming off.” He commented. “What to do? I am used to being on my own and daydreaming, I am a writer.” I told him. “You said that before. What do you write about?”

Elijah blinked at me, and for a moment I thought I would get a scolding like he had just given that woman. But to my surprise, his face softened. “I know it’s a lot,” he said, walking over to me and taking the pen from my hands. “If it helps, sometimes I write down a brief blurb or a doodle to represent each person. Like this one: Malcolm Blanchard.” As he spoke, he pointed to a name and a picture of a man with a rather impressive mustache. I didn’t expect what he did next, but it was nearly impossible to hide my snort.

It means the world to me. Warmly, Jane Doe Writings XOXO

He nodded slowly. Filed it. "I want to ask you something," he said. "About writing." "Ask," she said. "The things I've written — some of it is about you and Dad. Not specifically, I've changed the details, but — anyone who knows us would recognise it. Is that — " he paused, choosing carefully. "Is it okay? To write from your own life in a way that includes people who didn't choose to be written about?" She sat with the question.

"Your name isn't in it." "I know," I said. "But it's me." He held his coffee. "Yes," he said. "It's you." I looked at the book. At the cover. At the sentence visible through the open page. "Thank you," I said. "For what specifically?" he said. "For being someone who pays enough attention to write about people honestly," I said. "It's rarer than it should be." He held my gaze. The Smith Street cafe moved around us in its Thursday morning way.

If only I wasn't too ambitious to get noticed by him. "Uh huh..." he smirks and dangles the said note in front of me. Yup, it's also in my handwriting. The ugly scribbly kind that he knows for the twelve months and twelve days as mine. Not because it has some kind of importance, but just because no one can match my one-of-a-kind wonky-writing result. "I'm...yeah, that's...I'm..." I stutter, struggling to jumpstart my brain to make an excuse, any kind of excuse, even a lame one...anything...oh, come on...

Maybe then she’ll understand the pieces of me I’ve never been able to put into simple words. When my son naps, I write. When Tessa is at her art class down the street, I write. When the apartment falls silent in the evenings, I write until my eyes burn and the screen blurs. It’s the most personal thing I’ve ever created. And it terrifies me. Because the question isn’t whether it’s good. The question is whether I’m brave enough. If I publish this, I’m not just releasing a book into the world. I’m opening myself like a wound for strangers to prod at. Anyone who knows me could connect the dots. And Noah, God, Noah, could connect the dots too.

conversation. "My name is Infinity. I am a writer at The Journal, an online reading application. I am writing stories for a living.” “Wow! That's amazing!” Pride is visible on his face. Infinity was surprised by his reaction because she was not expecting to receive this reply. The majority of people's reaction when she says her profession is made light of. People tend to belittle people who are in the arts or literature. "What's amazing about breaking my readers' hearts?" She absentmindedly said.