how to start

how to start

A Lesson by joanofbooke

how to start a story and take it from a simple idea to an amazing portrayal.


    Its alway best just to start with an idea. Whether it comes from a dream or a random idea.

then get it on paper or start it on the computer, from there read it over and you can add detail and discription.






            please submit some of your rough ideas and ill show you what i mean and give you some personal help.



                                                                        joan of booke

Next Lesson


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Posted 2 Months Ago

I heard a scream, just before the sun rose from the east. This was where mom first originated. She was frightened of something from there. Even her skin turned white as bleached flour. She trembled. Her heart raced just hearing of dad and me heading there. Was petrified of it. Trembling her voice cracked, burst and broke. With each word that fell from her lips in regards to this region. I knew she would not be there. Wouldn't be there? But where was that voice had come from? She couldnot be there, could she?

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Posted 1 Year Ago

Very helpful! Thumbs up!

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Posted 2 Years Ago

A new beginning.. A fresh start.. A brand new chapter. When people talk or think of starting something new, it is often a positive thing. Many a time I have seen myself giving this very mundane suggestion to my close people when they are going through a storm in their hectic life. "Move on" seems to be the only advice to give when you are trying to comfort a friend with a broken heart. However, it's not easy for everyone to take that leap of faith. It's not easy for someone to look beyond all the suffering, heartaches, the silent tears on the pillow; It's not easy to forget the hours that were spent on self-harming rather than self-renewing. It's not easy to forget those hurtful words and erase those excruciating moments that made you question your identity and purpose in life. Yes, It's definitely not easy but not impossible either. Very little is needed to have a happy life. It's all within you. It's all in your thinking. If you believe you can, you're half way there. Begin with loving yourself for who you are, be thankful for your blessings, turn every criticism into opportunities, surround yourself with positive people and celebrate this life that God has chosen you to live because when you stop and look around, this Life is pretty amazing!!

I'm just a start up writer. I really need some encouragement and advice from your side. Thanks

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Posted 4 Years Ago

Kora Magnus pressed her back against the stone pillar. She could feel the damp stone under her sweat drenched back.
“We know you’re here. You can’t run for long you know.”
It was true. She was getting tired. Sooner or later she’d have to fight them. That or give herself up. She looked around at the lifeless bodies of her team mates scattered around the area.
“Just come out. We don’t want to hurt you.”
Bull crap.
Slowly, she reached for a sword lying on the ground, its blood-stained blade glittering softly under the moonlight.
"Kill them, Kora. They don’t understand our power. They don’t see your potential. We can be more powerful than them."
Kora clenched her teeth. That voice. That was the reason why her team mates were dead. That was the reason why she killed them.
“Get out of my head. I don’t want anything to do with you.” She rasped. She cupped her hands over her mouth. She shouldn’t have said that. She shouldn’t have said anything.
She could hear footsteps. They were coming dangerously close.
“Found you.”
Someone grabbed her from behind and held a sword to her neck. “You shouldn’t have bothered hiding, Kora dear.” They said. “We would have found you sooner or later.” They paused for a short moment. “Why did you kill them? Why would you slaughter you own team mates?”
Kora didn’t answer. Even if she told them, they wouldn’t believe her. No one would.

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Posted 4 Years Ago

Love your name...good advice as well. Thanks.

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Posted 4 Years Ago

as we lay on the broken ground beneath our laughter, I hear the sound of his voice, the way it carries in the wind. I look into his eyes and i see the love he gave and and the feelings i've lost. The sweetest most caring boy wrapped around me as my best friend, swaddled in my arms and the sun glistened on our newly tanned summer skin. this day wont last forever. but for now we stay together in perfect symmetry with the smile on his face the warmth in his eyes and love in his face. His eyes were the most intricate piece of him that i have ever noticed. Hazel. Sometimes geen but mostly brown with different specs of beauty in them. His muscles form down his body in every perfect way; flexing when he laughs. The only person in the world he cared about was the girl that he smashed into pieces but was still his best friend. Who still loves him deeply.

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Posted 5 Years Ago

I need help writing about my main character, a 32 yr old single male. He's going thru a bit of depression at the beginning of this second installment. In the first he inadvertently kills a young girl, immediately after he is almost killed. He wakes in the hospital, thinking because of numerous circumstances that it was all a lucid dream and tries to forget it. Later on, he discovers it was all real, only took place in anothe dimension and has to deal with what he's done.
I have no idea how to immerse myself in that. I am a naturally bubbly-type and would like some guidance. Thanks

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Posted 5 Years Ago

Think. Stay calm. Think. Breathe. What loss we looking at? College through first three and a half semesters was about two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars plus expenses brings us to about three-hundred thousand. High School, too posh anyway. I’d guess roughly one-point-three mil give or take living, food, clothes. How many hours? What am I supposed to - where’s the bus.
Notepad in my case? S**t, can’t use it. Need one of those little foldout tables. That’s about two-million? Pad and pen. Buck-fifty. Okay, two-million plus dollar-fifty.
Wife will need therapy. Add another thirteen-thousand? Mark’s twenty-first birthday will cost… oh - nothing.. Can I subtract that from the two-million. Yes, alright. That evens out the therapy. Time I’ll miss from work, about - damn - whole vacation. No spa in Riviera. S**t, wouldn’t go now anyway. Right - don’t need to do the trip this year. I get about twenty-thousand back? Yes, subtract. Rather, I reimburse myself, goes to…d****t, sleeve’s getting wet. Is it raining? “Where’s the damn bus?”
Focus, Robert. I write it off… I’m positive. How? I spent so much … Mark. No more birthdays, bills, or college…nothing now. Fine, Positive, but who pays me a…about a million dollars? Wait, doesn’t make sense. Way too low. I’m owed…at least - d****t. Calm. Restart. College-
“Whose squeezing my arm?” Distracting. “Why is my collar wet.” Not raining… “Stop getting rain on” - chest hurts. Focus! Add medical, subtract Mark.
“Help me.”

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Posted 6 Years Ago

Hello Joan of Booke;

I look forward to your comments. I will check again tomorrow. Thanks.

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Posted 6 Years Ago

Dark clouds filled the sky with temperance. Radical motion from the angry winds grabbed her attention. The branches fell around her. While trees split in halves. She could feel the earth rumbling in baritone louder and louder.

Beneath her feet streams were racing from every direction. closing in on her as if she was a target. No control. Helpless. Balance lost. Her body had a will all it's own. As the rush of darkness crowed recklessly around her. Her foot caught on to broken slabs. Arms stretched reaching, reaching . . . . What will hold her in place? There was nothing.

The looseness of the earth seemed to be in constant turmoil. Her will not her own. Her eyes darted as she searched to understand what was happening to her. Underneath her feet appeared the dead. A grave yard made it's presence from nowhere.

Caskets raise like dirty bobbling dolls. Nasty and wet. Dark boxes spring up in rapid succession. everyone way it way up above the ground like a budding garden. Thick with darker colored moss. Funky and moist.

Her mind racing and racing! She was losing her nerve as her heart began to beat a like palms pounding on bongos. Her body froze. What was she to think of this? Was her time to die?

There was no way for her to know. Everything happened so fast. Then suddenly, a rectangular box slid open quickly. A body appears from within the casket. She sees it! "Oh!"

Fingers trace ragged edges. A hand slowly search the interior walls from inside of the wooden box. "Who could it be," she thought? She sees a face.
Her eyes flooded in her own fluids. The tears started racing down her face. She wipe her eyes, "Daddy," she shouts in disbelief. he was making his way out of the casket!

Frighted for what she saw, her eyes open quickly. She was turned to the solace of her bedroom. The night air kissed her face. Her blanket wrapped around her like the arms of a lover who comforts her.
No storm. No crashing trees. No, the earth crumble from underneath her feet. No swimming caskets. She was safe once more.

Her father's casket was completely out of sight. Other than the sound of crickets singing out side her window. There was no need to worry. She felt safe and secure again in the natural sense.

Never mind the goose-like bumps making which made hairs stand up on her neck and shoulders. She still felt chills up her spine like ice on a 110 fever. It was in that moment when she decided to rise herself up in bed.

She was awake but still confused about what she was able to recall. Everything appeared so real to her. As if she was actually in another dimension of destruction and death.

Maybe what she went though in that short moment was not a dream at all. It seem more like an outer body experience. what ever it was pulled and tugged at her like a tugging beast. What did it all mean she wondered?
It's 4:45 in the morning. She had a meeting with department heads this morning. Two more hours before getting ready for work. Rest is what she needs right now, not ghost in the wee hour of the morning.

Dream or not she knew it meant something. Before she lied her head on the pillow she decided to reach for the glass on the night stand. then took a drink.

How was she supposed to interpret this. The dream seemed real. Her father had gotten too old. His body too weak. There was nothing she could do to save him. The stroke caught up with him and took him away from her. She missed so much.

Perhaps he was somehow trying get a message to her from the grave? After all, he's been buried for about 3 months now. What ever it was it was definitely urgent she recall.

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Added on May 2, 2010
Last Updated on May 2, 2010
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sacramento, CA

gender: female, age:seventeen, i love to write and read its very hard for me to relate to others and to talk about my emotions so i use writing to tell people about how i feel. i try to put myself i..