Text Structure For Fiction Novels & Stories

He hoped. Alaim looked at the fountain; the clearness of the water was mesmerizing. He moved closer. Thought after thought danced in his head that was tight from the ideas he kept. One after the other they appeared danced around him, mocked. One of them was the strongest. He returned to his room, lifted his pen and started writing his short work. A fable novella would be great, divided into sections that would later become stories. He had that strange notion of naming the sections in his books. Technically speaking, it's not a section but a different story-arc for lesser or greater character, but none the less it's a section of the same work. Many wondered why he does it, he simply replied,

Those small moments of encouragement make me want to keep writing, even on the days when it’s hard. This story might not be perfect, but it’s honest. Every chapter is written with effort and thought. Some parts may move fast, others a bit slower but that’s how stories breathe. I hope, somewhere in between, you find something that sticks with you. --- PREFACE Before you start, I want to say this clearly: This is a work of fiction. Everything you’ll read — the names, places, businesses, and events comes from imagination. Some details may feel familiar, but they’re not taken from real life. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or to actual events, is purely coincidental.

"And then he asked me what I would suggest instead. And I said he could simply ask someone who had already read the programme to tell him what he needed to know. And he said that was a reasonable point." "And?" Diana was leaning forward. Both of them were leaning forward. This was the thing about a good story. It did not require facts to be compelling. It required texture and rhythm and the specific warmth of something that felt true even when it was wearing the clothes of something else entirely. "And that was that," I said, with the smile of someone with a complete story who is choosing to give you the outline rather than the whole. "These things are rarely dramatic when they are actually

So please ignore them or forgive me in advance. Dear readers, the text written in the brackets were in Italic and Bold text. I’ve kept the content in it, to differentiate between the scenes or the situation. The bracket content may be from past, flashback or other scenarios, so to avoid your confusion I’ve kept the text in the brackets. You are reading the story on the right platform, if you can able, to read the bold and Italic text. I know this story will not be any exceptional work, but I’ll try my best. I am looking forward to your response; I hope you will appreciate my hard work. If you didn’t like this story or concept, then pardon me in advance.

Dante said. Elian looked at the road. "Texture," he said. "The first novel was about the shape of things — the big structural moves. This one is about texture. The way the same kitchen looks different in different seasons. The way a person's face changes over a year — not dramatically, just — accumulates. The specific quality of knowing someone's morning sounds so well you could identify their mood from three rooms away." "That's very specific," Dante said. "It's very specific because the material is very specific," Elian said. He glanced at Dante. "Your morning sounds."

(Not that difficult ) If you don't like this story, then just leave and don't comment... Criticism is fine for things like plot holes/grammar/if something doesn't make sense. But if you're gonna complain that it's moving too fast, I don't care... All my stories are fast reads, and don't drag too long. (Or at least that's my goal.) I do it on purpose and I'm not changing that. When you see bolded italicized text, it's usually the character's thoughts/them talking to themselves. NOT a medical condition.

Caroline fulfilled my father's desires which made him habitual of ignoring us most of the times. The scenario had totally changed and now she successfully made our father distant from us. Our father used to take us out only once in a week which bothered Caroline a lot. ************** My father stood in front of the mirror and wore his coat. “Where are you going handsome?” Inquired Caroline in a flirtatious way. “I'm taking kids for out for shopping.” Caroline slowly stepped towards my father and hugged him. The bedroom door opened all of a sudden and Zac rushed into my father's room. Nobody was allowed inside his room but Zac unintentionally rushed into his room sometimes which my father did