Novel & Cerita Stream Of Consciousness Novel

I literally wrote down the plot countless times to make sure I was steady of what I was writing, boy I even asked some of my friends to read my story to make sure everything was making sense! Yes so this government-training-3 months thing, was better plotted and I was happy to be able to put in my ideas inside and everything flowed well. But I was overthinking again that you readers would think it's confusing, so I decided to create this chapter. I hope the story is okay so far for you guys, and if you have any ideas you would like me to add in this book, feel free to write in the comments or if you're too shy, dm me! I will most definitely consider your ideas!!

He didn’t think too hard about where he was going, just let the words flow, discovering the story as it poured out of the pen. Lost in the narrative, he became unaware of the passage of time. The clouds thinned out, the sun climbed higher in the sky, reflecting off the water in a dazzling display. People began to appear on the beach, spreading out towels and diving into the ocean, but Brad did not notice them. An hour passed as he filled one page after another, but it may as well have been five minutes for all his consciousness of the time.

I had no idea when I'd become compliant, but at times like these, it was a trait I didn't find all that endearing. "I just want to start over." He waited for me to continue. "I wasn't thinking about what I wrote. It was just a stream of consciousness; I don't think it even makes sense. Anyway, I don't want Dr. Wright reading it. I'd rather do it again." "What were you writing about that you don't want to share with Shelly?" "Can't you let this go, Dax? Please?" I didn't know why I bothered-he never gave in to my pleading.

For the first time, Cathedra had someone who didn't cringe every time she opened her mouth to speak. So this is what having a friend feels like, huh? Cathedra thought to herself. One lunch break, while waiting for Diane underneath the tree, Cathedra was scribbling a draft of her first novel in her notebook. The novel contained the scenes she saw in the storybook, back in her kindergarten days. Since that day at kindergarten, she didn't tell anyone what she saw in the storybooks anymore. The thought of seeing things that other people couldn't still terrified her but she tried hard not to think about it by avoiding any book she can see other than school books and textbooks.

Actually, now that she looks around there's glass everywhere. She must be in something like shock, because even now, it takes her a few minutes to realize this is blood. Her blood. Last night was not a dream, it wasn't a crazy figment of her imagination—it was real and somehow, she survived it. She tosses her head from side to side causing her auburn ponytail to swish behind her softly at first, then gradually more violent. She's trying to shake all the bad memories out of it. Whipping around, she breaks into a run back the way she had come. She sprints the entire way home without ever looking back. When she finally collapses on the porch steps with her head in her hands, she allows herself