Excerpt
Plot Structure
Once upon a time in the bustling city of Arcadia, there lived a young man named Ethan. He had always been captivated by the power of storytelling and was determined to unravel the secrets of crafting a compelling plot. Little did he know that his own life would become the canvas upon which he would explore the intricacies of plot structure.
By YoungCreate TV3 years ago in Fiction
Character Development
Once upon a time in the small town of Willowbrook, there lived a young woman named Emily. She possessed an uncanny ability to bring fictional characters to life through her words. Emily had always been an avid reader and had a deep appreciation for the power of storytelling. Little did she know that her passion would soon take her on a remarkable journey of self-discovery and character development.
By YoungCreate TV3 years ago in Fiction
Cheapest Porsche Cars. Content Warning.
Porsche is known for producing high-performance sports cars and luxury vehicles, which tend to have a higher price tag than many other cars on the market. However, there are a few Porsche models that are relatively affordable compared to the rest of the lineup. Here are some of the cheapest Porsche cars:
By Car Community3 years ago in Fiction
Coffee Shop
1991-1993 They met at church camp. Evy still remembers seeing David walking down the rocky, dirt road locking arms with his date to the camp banquet with the New Mexico mountains looking purplish against the golden sunset. He was about 15, tall, perfectly proportioned with blond hair and gentle greenish gray eyes and always smiling. Evy was 12 with short permed hair, big, round red glasses, braces and gangly long legs she didn't know what to do with yet. David's little sister, Danielle, and Evy were best friends at church camp and Danielle was always talking about her big brother, David, and how wonderful he was. Danielle also talked about how intelligent and pious he was too. He fit the perfect picture of what Evy wanted.
By Emily E Mahon3 years ago in Fiction
Literary Fiction: A Struggling Writer's Journey to Uncover Hidden Love. Content Warning.
Discovering a Collection of Letters in an Old Attic Have you ever stumbled upon something unexpected that changed the course of your life? Imagine being a struggling writer, living in a quaint small town, when suddenly you uncover a collection of hidden letters in an old attic. As you delve deeper into the letters, you unravel a forbidden love story from the past that mirrors your own experiences, inspiring you to confront your fears and pursue your dreams. This is the extraordinary journey of a struggling writer, the power of serendipity, and the magic of literary fiction.
By ADITYA SALVE3 years ago in Fiction
A Broken Dream
Once upon a time in Nigeria, a young man named Chidi found himself swept up in the whirlwind of hope and anticipation that surrounded the 2023 presidential election. With a fire burning in his heart, he yearned for change, dreaming of a Nigeria where justice, equality, and prosperity were not distant ideals, but tangible realities. Little did he know that his journey would be one fraught with disappointment and shattered dreams.
By Bethel kingsley3 years ago in Fiction
Global Cooling
GLOBAL COOLING slowly extends towards a series of ice-ages in the wingspan of these epochs while APES arise and diversify; Grasslands extend Islands in the ocean clearing of primordial forest at first setting for camps for forests in extent dwindling in some extent to great wide opens (limited at every wooded edge, where that limit isn’t sea or mountain. Deifying the Science Myth: advertised as an Eden Age when Flora and Fauna become recognizably Modern. The Idyll’s stage was set then though in archaic creature forms long before any leader would bring his beasts to pasture and the dogs operated in brigand bands without any human head to organize their genes
By Rob Angeli3 years ago in Fiction
All About Goats. Content Warning.
GOATHERD CONTESTANTS both —Why do we not oh Mopsy you and I good fellows both convene together, you to blow the reeds and I to beat the verses: here in the mixed grove to sit between hazels and elms recording the cruel extinction of Daphnis that the nymphs enact weeping the various mourners’ rites with hazels and brooklets bearing testimonial witness?
By Rob Angeli3 years ago in Fiction
Sketch: Millennial Rage
Sketch again (Millennial rage the newest hottest voices): A present generation now of shepherd youth learning the ropes of herdsmanship, so spending lots of time singing songs and recanting incantations contemporary to their forbears that told infectious gossip about the newest hottest voices recollected in Past Song Fame. This once passed as the very definition of craftsmanship. They mourned the silence of the songbreakers so jaded and sick with plaints so sick of love thus no longer lovesick, reed-breakers, aulos-smashers, tibia crushers, flesh and blood and bone, and others gone with these reallocated land portions bringing many a Chloe and a Lycidas from the countryside into being city dwellers after being shoved out of their own fields and robbed by the Government of their precious Herds: thus runs progress and the industrial revolution and the august Caesars and all the rest. They would reflect on past tradition, the dead departed and those who ceased to sing and poetize for whatever reason, and recite their now-classic songs: success as seasons and as the seasons flow a series, they will renew, every present tense being cast of leaf and trunk and flowery field or grassy slope, succession without transition, a world of dead campestral memories, crying for next generation’s resurrection, like the seasons, the blooming, and the snow, in spiral plant sex orgies and hibernation, a texture of rampant rhizomes, there is no break in the Daisy-Chain: they observed Nature, and sang about What they saw via the marvel of mammalian senses, they were animists, decanting the vintage of leaf and trunk and fur and tooth, and sweet heat of mating season, in normalcy or inverted form, in season or just when-fuckin-ever in whatever place, whatever flower grove or bower; eternal fields not in being everlasting but in repeating themselves in degree of succession which was the resurrection in nature or in culture and not just the sentimental revival but Daphnis himself in his fragmentary songs preserved only as quotations in other writers and Rosalind’s invaluable and green-thumbed gardening tips she who was popularly called the Green Reaper (by apellation contrôlée) in the Thessalonically Heliconoid domaine she once in olden days would haunt (a dream-realm with gorgeously painted sceneries between the Tagus and the Euphrates in Euboican Hesperidicana land, New World, until she moved to Sicily with her Syracusan boyfriend in a paradise for good sheep and meek pastors once they get over Love and focus on the Works and the Days, and other useful agricultural DIY manuals: profligate in the land of Kent A Golden Aged Return (the Return on which many departed Herdsman rhythmed their strophes, the hoped-for Homecoming, fitting Subject, and all for the Season) expectant of the Green Thumb or the Reaper and the sexy sacred youth and maidenhead repeatedly reinvigorated tho constantly mowed down w/the sweeping swipe of that sickle.
By Rob Angeli3 years ago in Fiction
