Well I have thought of everything for this story,...

[ My Thinking Process-

...Writing a novel takes a lot of time and effort. You’re going to live with the characters and the world you create for a long time. So don’t choose an idea you will get bored with or grow to resent after a while. Instead, look for writing ideas you can be passionate about – ones that are meaningful to you, that you will have fun working with, that you can feel proud to have written.

One way to open your mind up to great novel writing ideas is to think about stories other people have written that you have felt most passionate about. Ask yourself which novels or films have given you the most enjoyment, changed your view of the world, or impacted you most profoundly? Make a list of these favourite all-time stories.

Then look over your list and ask yourself what these stories have in common.

Genre. Do you prefer literary fiction or genre fiction? Romances, mysteries, or science fiction? Historical novels, fantasy, or some combination? Keep in mind that most genres have loose definitions and tend to overlap with other genres, as in historical mystery, science fiction adventure, paranormal romance, etc. Stories that are typically lumped in the same genre can also be quite different. Star Wars and 1984 are very different types of stories, even though they can both be categorized as science fiction. A whodunit or a quest can be set in ancient Egypt or on the planet Mars. So pay attention to what your favourite stories have in common, even if they appear to be different genres.

Character. What type of people do you like to read stories about? What kind of characters do you have the most sympathy for or empathy with? Do you like stories about underdogs and misfits, or the rich and famous? World leaders or gang leaders? Men of action and valor? Women caught in difficult situations? Whose stories do you think need to be told?

Problems. Notice if your favourite protagonists face similar kinds of problems. What kinds of personal difficulties or external threats do they struggle with? Do they have similar goals (e.g. revenge, rescue, love, freedom, understanding, acceptance, wealth, discovering the truth, reevaluating their past, healing a relationship, winning a war, coping with change, attaining wisdom, fulfilling a dream, coming of age, finding meaning, protecting the weak and innocent, rediscovering their zest for life, to name just a few).

Themes. What values do your favourite stories concern themselves with? What lessons do the characters in them learn or fail to learn?

Be willing to spend some time on this process – not just one afternoon. As you consider your favourite stories, write out your thoughts and observations in as much detail as you can. Then reflect on and add to your observations over the next few days.

Chances are you will learn something about yourself as you do this exercise. The stories that touch us the most tend to be about characters who share our concerns, problems, values, and goals.

While you reflect on your favourite stories, you may even discover (to your surprise or horror) that the things that matter most to you are not what you thought they were. If so, congratulate yourself on your new insight. The more honest you can be with yourself, the better writer you will be.

The other thing that may happen over several days of pondering your favourite stories is that one of those great writing ideas I mentioned above may pop into your mind. If so, fantastic! Write it down.

If not, that’s okay too. At least you will have a clearer idea of the type of novel you want to write. There’s more than one way to prime a pump or persuade your muse to generate a stream of novel writing ideas. So try this next approach… ]

....but I came up with NOTHING.

... THE END...

Grenade

stare

linen

military

picture

simplistic

afraid

sticks

attempt

absorbed

aquatic

gaping

list

highfalutin

mom

cheer

halting

push

unruly

kindly

material

surprise

front

internal

holiday

nation

horrible

toys

majestic

war

wing

call

thank

snotty

wren

thunder

drip

quizzical

agreement

scary

giddy

invent

comparison

sparkle

irritating

harmonious

stranger

worried

breezy

believe

sheet

snails

rifle

education

ratty

trap

actually

death

abrupt

view

gabby

pipe

marvelous

cave

dolls

zesty

whole

bead

feeling

wave

languid

pushy

smoggy

boiling

file

mere

sort

agreeable

bouncy

rabid

key

travel

guttural

cheerful

division

selective

rabbit

cheat

competition

afternoon

painful

hallowed

bumpy

comfortable

stereotyped

tart

inform

jumpy

festive

basin

ants

little

fence

clip

box

rough

ordinary

hurt

night

far-flung

self

shaky

pocket

chess

judicious

shake

stroke

cat

mess up

sidewalk

unique

lunchroom

account

true

aberrant

premium

yam

bridge

gate

reduce

large

cherry

waves

rob

automatic

babies

reflective

strip

pine

ready

black-and-white

ajar

incandescent

smiling

steadfast

supreme

animated

ear

accurate

bent

unfasten

nutty

examine

warn

quick

tent

reaction

hook

aggressive

shelf

skip

slip

natural

clover

compete

hill

intend

happen

meat

elegant

share

prevent

cry

boring

ruthless

feeble

circle

claim

sack

divergent

reach

lumpy

love

cherries

increase

cure

lace

buzz

house

afterthought

check

delightful

weather

camera

furtive

flashy

materialistic

geese

disgusted

determined

cloth

violent

comb

pancake

grate

lie

smooth

shoes

three

calm

marry

fang

befitting

tray

blade

barbarous

relation

voracious

available

physical

fierce

subsequent

basket

yummy

panoramic

flowers

mature

strengthen

morning

store

nippy

bubble

milk

handsome

sofa

hydrant

observe

plough

legal

grin

ignore

moldy

idea

boil

harass

ship

entertaining

wink

cold

numberless

mice

uneven

purpose

waggish

wild

feigned

obtain

effect

ski

dispensable

unkempt

save

unwieldy

consist

precious

cub

clumsy

foamy

many

force

ahead

eight

elbow

quirky

quill

squalid

separate

ancient

breakable

luxuriant

wide-eyed

quiver

flock

sturdy

icicle

servant

admit

thrill

suck

chickens

acceptable

taste

dare

flash

steel

shallow

stem

good

snore

picayune

abnormal

brick

meddle

damaging

hideous

x-ray

massive

steady

calculate

chunky

fry

land

drunk

cynical

instinctive

complex

modern

cabbage

silk

deadpan

alike

wrench

tongue

wrestle

average

itch

spring

callous

pigs

oven

veil

tedious

guiltless

powder

range

reading

question

damaged

mundane

discovery

opposite

silent

tightfisted

undesirable

scarce

hug

kittens

minister

abhorrent

blue-eyed

broad

groovy

colossal

possessive

hissing

spiteful

expensive

brash

scent

flaky

story

boundless

absurd

announce

argument

cool

macho

tearful

spoil

wry

burst

punch

acoustics

distinct

concerned

jewel

scale

tour

protective

glow

perfect

infamous

wash

tramp

recess

tremble

spy

reply

new

soap

language

limit

sweater

ugly

zephyr

middle

direful

malicious

groan

thundering

depressed

bikes

rhyme

plucky

zipper

soup

alarm

salty

four

scandalous

nosy

ad hoc

far

fact

staking

skinny

branch

plants

momentous

credit

aromatic

silky

bath

slimy

rate

spark

alcoholic

pick

straw

toothpaste

history

laborer

nervous

obeisant

devilish

achiever

race

stream

chop

erratic

nebulous

gorgeous

sticky

tremendous

string

cheap

jellyfish

greedy

snobbish

endurable

gaudy

amuck

pray

handle

remarkable

exciting

crowded

squirrel

abandoned

distance

awful

pour

swing

wet

compare

mammoth

sweltering

best

lick

righteous

blushing

penitent

caring

tall

degree

yielding

sigh

magenta

ceaseless

dinner

behave

chicken

rampant

dry

invincible

direction

curve

wide

eggnog

bleach

hilarious

eggs

nine

past

receptive

gigantic

fear

puncture

early

pan

various

deep

magical

decorous

ultra

unsightly

teeth

swanky

exultant

gold

quartz

ban

vessel

bed

quaint

whine

nerve

subtract

show

lettuce

faulty

hospitable

shiny

miscreant

disarm

two

telephone

calculating

poor

stick

marked

surround

weary

trucks

billowy

round

behavior

cobweb

abiding

minute

satisfying

copy

fork

resolute

low

carpenter

remember

sprout

prefer

strange

hushed

difficult

peaceful

flavor

church

healthy

scold

simple

wholesale

eminent

stupid

bat

bounce

damp

enormous

fixed

puzzling

nut

reflect

zany

open

turkey

rule

ill-informed

hobbies

lovely

approval

insidious

reproduce

spiritual

fragile

grouchy

baseball

scissors

lush

desert

royal

substance

help

green

trains

gamy

growth

multiply

drain

connection

rapid

tasteless

satisfy

noise

hope

vacuous

existence

sun

pack

jeans

pumped

furry

tree

arithmetic

perform

ladybug

burn

mountainous

hands

gullible

unite

profuse

yak

rich

handsomely

rod

venomous

quicksand

dusty

birth

melt

peace

maid

hover

efficient

injure

big

mend

deranged

quince

imaginary

needle

deer

vast

wall

welcome

crayon

next

fit

diligent

cart

squeeze

women

chemical

matter

glossy

succeed

annoyed

idiotic

stomach

dazzling

bashful

horn

collect

shocking

playground

verdant

offend

crook

hanging

metal

yell

treatment

kind

wiggly

system

nappy

stove

invention

flowery

apathetic

youthful

black

boat

structure

doubt

hapless

baby

splendid

obscene

health

misty

chilly

hollow

temporary

scrub

zoom

hour

loving

exercise

can

pot

deserve

tin

prose

screeching

protect

ring

nest

slap

mountain

thoughtless

delight

impossible

lean

bite

condemned

stone

battle

shy

abaft

guide

wilderness

aboriginal

frantic

cross

thought

meek

control

short

hunt

greet

agree

lumber

umbrella

woozy

absent

beautiful

statement

helpless

peck

dreary

request

weigh

fat

blue

oil

paper

wakeful

debonair

rely

hateful

loaf

likeable

public

wealthy

trot

science

substantial

special

fluffy

honey

glue

trade

confess

floor

aback

pricey

bag

bit

steam

analyze

wrap

bury

flagrant

familiar

dogs

watery

repulsive

button

basketball

engine

itchy

late

exchange

gun

fill

clammy

aspiring

fortunate

jolly

end

permit

economic

suspend

play

regret

agonizing

star

tail

press

overflow

radiate

gleaming

wiry

exuberant

yawn

place

drink

motion

challenge

superficial

sedate

thick

frequent

roasted

double

tick

cakes

arch

wary

warm

scene

ludicrous

adjustment

quiet

craven

quixotic

wire

icky

brawny

cloudy

discussion

glamorous

class

half

close

obsequious

improve

fix

productive

decorate

dangerous

need

embarrassed

carry

thaw

attend

panicky

coal

girl

ray

title

lowly

coil

partner

leather

bitter

chalk

uptight

mine

brush

old

obey

unsuitable

bump

grass

tendency

foregoing

cooperative

drag

questionable

guess

authority

mitten

desire

unwritten

repeat

terrible

ten

hot

dust

excite

attack

shivering

teeny

creator

kaput

thinkable

assorted

odd

jittery

wealth

relax

scribble

label

egg

cagey

money

naughty

run

rail

occur

sweet

spill

eye

spare

unused

realize

obedient

thankful

drum

educate

heartbreaking

settle

wine

club

ice

sisters

unlock

fireman

religion

cows

cute

rhythm

terrific

order

number

aboard

twist

blot

donkey

throat

cut

kindhearted

route

educated

clam

addicted

sock

living

trashy

amused

influence

brainy

horse

male

suit

digestion

salt

divide

guarded

pop

pat

repair

cough

wood

pen

writing

bolt

tangible

draconian

yarn

meal

nimble

abounding

hole

disgusting

act

grotesque

neck

empty

representative

historical

useful

leg

hose

produce

include

white

elated

camp

allow

skin

soft

trouble

dizzy

awake

zoo

strap

lopsided

shame

vivacious

arrive

giant

insurance

miss

savory

grieving

bait

belief

gratis

red

position

axiomatic

There was something in the tree. It was difficult to tell from the ground, but Rachael could see movement. She squinted her eyes and peered in the direction of the movement, trying to decipher exactly what she had spied. The more she peered, however, the more she thought it might be a figment of her imagination. Nothing seemed to move until the moment she began to take her eyes off the tree. Then in the corner of her eye, she would see the movement again and begin the process of staring again.

Do you really listen when you are talking with someone? I have a friend who listens in an unforgiving way. She actually takes every word you say as being something important and when you have a friend that listens like that, words take on a whole new meaning.

The cab arrived late. The inside was in as bad of shape as the outside which was concerning, and it didn't appear that it had been cleaned in months. The green tree air-freshener hanging from the rearview mirror was either exhausted of its scent or not strong enough to overcome the other odors emitting from the cab. The correct decision, in this case, was to get the hell out of it and to call another cab, but she was late and didn't have a choice.

Sometimes that's just the way it has to be. Sure, there were probably other options, but he didn't let them enter his mind. It was done and that was that. It was just the way it had to be.

There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.

She had come to the conclusion that you could tell a lot about a person by their ears. The way they stuck out and the size of the earlobes could give you wonderful insights into the person. Of course, she couldn't scientifically prove any of this, but that didn't matter to her. Before anything else, she would size up the ears of the person she was talking to.

It was a weird concept. Why would I really need to generate a random paragraph? Could I actually learn something from doing so? All these questions were running through her head as she pressed the generate button. To her surprise, she found what she least expected to see.

Turning away from the ledge, he started slowly down the mountain, deciding that he would, that very night, satisfy his curiosity about the man-house. In the meantime, he would go down into the canyon and get a cool drink, after which he would visit some berry patches just over the ridge, and explore among the foothills a bit before his nap-time, which always came just after the sun had walked past the middle of the sky. At that period of the day the sun’s warm rays seemed to cast a sleepy spell over the silent mountainside, so all of the animals, with one accord, had decided it should be the hour for their mid-day sleep.

They argue. While the argument seems to be different the truth is it's always the same. Yes, the topic may be different or the circumstances, but when all said and done, it all came back to the same thing. They both knew it, but neither has the courage or strength to address the underlying issue. So they continue to argue.

I recently discovered I could make fudge with just chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla extract, and a thick pot on slow heat. I tried it with dark chocolate chunks and I tried it with semi-sweet chocolate chips. It's better with both kinds. It comes out pretty bad with just the dark chocolate. The best add-ins are crushed almonds and marshmallows -- what you get from that is Rocky Road. It takes about twenty minutes from start to fridge, and then it takes about six months to work off the twenty pounds you gain from eating it. All things in moderation, friends. All things in moderation.

"What is the best way to get what you want?" she asked. He looked down at the ground knowing that she wouldn't like his answer. He hesitated, knowing that the truth would only hurt. How was he going to tell her that the best way for him to get what he wanted was to leave her?

It was a rat's nest. Not a literal one, but that is what her hair seemed to resemble every morning when she got up. It was going to take at least an hour to get it under control and she was sick and tired of it. She peered into the mirror and wondered if it was worth it. It wasn't. She opened the drawer and picked up the hair clippers.

She looked at her student wondering if she could ever get through. "You need to learn to think for yourself," she wanted to tell him. "Your friends are holding you back and bringing you down." But she didn't because she knew his friends were all that he had and even if that meant a life of misery, he would never give them up.

It was a scrape that he hardly noticed. Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures. There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to happen to him.

She patiently waited for his number to be called. She had no desire to be there, but her mom had insisted that she go. She's resisted at first, but over time she realized it was simply easier to appease her and go. Mom tended to be that way. She would keep insisting until you wore down and did what she wanted. So, here she sat, patiently waiting for her number to be called.

Since they are still preserved in the rocks for us to see, they must have been formed quite recently, that is, geologically speaking. What can explain these striations and their common orientation? Did you ever hear about the Great Ice Age or the Pleistocene Epoch? Less than one million years ago, in fact, some 12,000 years ago, an ice sheet many thousands of feet thick rode over Burke Mountain in a southeastward direction. The many boulders frozen to the underside of the ice sheet tended to scratch the rocks over which they rode. The scratches or striations seen in the park rocks were caused by these attached boulders. The ice sheet also plucked and rounded Burke Mountain into the shape it possesses today.

Colors bounced around in her head. They mixed and threaded themselves together. Even colors that had no business being together. They were all one, yet distinctly separate at the same time. How was she going to explain this to the others?

It was easy to spot her. All you needed to do was look at her socks. They were never a matching pair. One would be green while the other would be blue. One would reach her knee while the other barely touched her ankle. Every other part of her was perfect, but never the socks. They were her micro act of rebellion.

He had three simple rules by which he lived. The first was to never eat blue food. There was nothing in nature that was edible that was blue. People often asked about blueberries, but everyone knows those are actually purple. He understood it was one of the stranger rules to live by, but it had served him well thus far in the 50+ years of his life.

MaryLou wore the tiara with pride. There was something that made doing anything she didn't really want to do a bit easier when she wore it. She really didn't care what those staring through the window were thinking as she vacuumed her apartment.

I inadvertently went to See's Candy last week (I was in the mall looking for phone repair), and as it turns out, See's Candy now charges a dollar -- a full dollar -- for even the simplest of their wee confection offerings. I bought two chocolate lollipops and two chocolate-caramel-almond things. The total cost was four-something. I mean, the candies were tasty and all, but let's be real: A Snickers bar is fifty cents. After this dollar-per-candy revelation, I may not find myself wandering dreamily back into a See's Candy any time soon.

Sleeping in his car was never the plan but sometimes things don't work out as planned. This had been his life for the last three months and he was just beginning to get used to it. He didn't actually enjoy it, but he had accepted it and come to terms with it. Or at least he thought he had. All that changed when he put the key into the ignition, turned it and the engine didn't make a sound.

You can decide what you want to do in life, but I suggest doing something that creates. Something that leaves a tangible thing once you're done. That way even after you're gone, you will still live on in the things you created.

Many people say that life isn't like a bed of roses. I beg to differ. I think that life is quite like a bed of roses. Just like life, a bed of roses looks pretty on the outside, but when you're in it, you find that it is nothing but thorns and pain. I myself have been pricked quite badly.

There are different types of secrets. She had held onto plenty of them during her life, but this one was different. She found herself holding onto the worst type. It was the type of secret that could gnaw away at your insides if you didn't tell someone about it, but it could end up getting you killed if you did.

She's asked the question so many times that she barely listened to the answers anymore. The answers were always the same. Well, not exactly the same, but the same in a general sense. A more accurate description was the answers never surprised her. So, she asked for the 10,000th time, "What's your favorite animal?" But this time was different. When she heard the young boy's answer, she wondered if she had heard him correctly.

It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger.

There was a time when he would have embraced the change that was coming. In his youth, he sought adventure and the unknown, but that had been years ago. He wished he could go back and learn to find the excitement that came with change but it was useless. That curiosity had long left him to where he had come to loathe anything that put him out of his comfort zone.

It had been her dream for years but Dana had failed to take any action toward making it come true. There had always been a good excuse to delay or prioritize another project. As she woke, she realized she was once again at a crossroads. Would it be another excuse or would she finally find the courage to pursue her dream? Dana rose and took her first step.

The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another.

What was beyond the bend in the stream was unknown. Both were curious, but only one was brave enough to want to explore. That was the problem. There was always one that let fear rule her life.

"Explain to me again why I shouldn't cheat?" he asked. "All the others do and nobody ever gets punished for doing so. I should go about being happy losing to cheaters because I know that I don't? That's what you're telling me?"

It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.

Where do they get a random paragraph?" he wondered as he clicked the generate button. Do they just write a random paragraph or do they get it somewhere? At that moment he read the random paragraph and realized it was about random paragraphs and his world would never be the same.

She considered the birds to be her friends. She'd put out food for them each morning and then she'd watch as they came to the feeders to gorge themselves for the day. She wondered what they would do if something ever happened to her. Would they miss the meals she provided if she failed to put out the food one morning?

His parents continued to question him. He didn't know what to say to them since they refused to believe the truth. He explained again and again, and they dismissed his explanation as a figment of his imagination. There was no way that grandpa, who had been dead for five years, could have told him where the treasure had been hidden. Of course, it didn't help that grandpa was roaring with laughter in the chair next to him as he tried to explain once again how he'd found it.

Barbara had been waiting at the table for twenty minutes. it had been twenty long and excruciating minutes. David had promised that he would be on time today. He never was, but he had promised this one time. She had made him repeat the promise multiple times over the last week until she'd believed his promise. Now she was paying the price.

Dave wasn't exactly sure how he had ended up in this predicament. He ran through all the events that had lead to this current situation and it still didn't make sense. He wanted to spend some time to try and make sense of it all, but he had higher priorities at the moment. The first was how to get out of his current situation of being ***** in a tree with snow falling all around and no way for him to get down.

He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.

She looked at her little girl who was about to become a teen. She tried to think back to when the girl had been younger but failed to pinpoint the exact moment when she had become a little too big to pick up and carry. It hit her all at once. She was no longer a little girl and she stood there speechless with fear, sadness, and pride all running through her at the same time.

The trees, therefore, must be such old and primitive techniques that they thought nothing of them, deeming them so inconsequential that even savages like us would know of them and not be suspicious. At that, they probably didn't have too much time after they detected us orbiting and intending to land. And if that were true, there could be only one place where their civilization was hidden.

If you can imagine a furry humanoid seven feet tall, with the face of an intelligent gorilla and the braincase of a man, you'll have a rough idea of what they looked like -- except for their teeth. The canines would have fitted better in the face of a tiger, and showed at the corners of their wide, thin-lipped mouths, giving them an expression of ferocity.

She didn't understand how changed worked. When she looked at today compared to yesterday, there was nothing that she could see that was different. Yet, when she looked at today compared to last year, she couldn't see how anything was ever the same.

It was that terrifying feeling you have as you tightly hold the covers over you with the knowledge that there is something hiding under your bed. You want to look, but you don't at the same time. You're frozen with fear and unable to act. That's where she found herself and she didn't know what to do next

Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it and taken it for an ordinary falling star. It seemed that it fell to earth about one hundred miles east of him.

He watched as the young man tried to impress everyone in the room with his intelligence. There was no doubt that he was smart. The fact that he was more intelligent than anyone else in the room could have been easily deduced, but nobody was really paying any attention due to the fact that it was also obvious that the young man only cared about his intelligence.

Sometimes it's the first moment of the day that catches you off guard. That's what Wendy was thinking. She opened her window to see fire engines screeching down the street. While this wasn't something completely unheard of, it also wasn't normal. It was a sure sign of what was going to happen that day. She could feel it in her bones and it wasn't the way she wanted the day to begin.

He sat staring at the person in the train stopped at the station going in the opposite direction. She sat staring ahead, never noticing that she was being watched. Both trains began to move and he knew that in another timeline or in another universe, they had been happy together.

You know that tingly feeling you get on the back of your neck sometimes? I just got that feeling when talking with her. You know I don't believe in sixth senses, but there is something not right with her. I don't know how I know, but I just do.

She didn't like the food. She never did. She made the usual complaints and started the tantrum he knew was coming. But this time was different. Instead of trying to placate her and her unreasonable demands, he just stared at her and watched her meltdown without saying a word.

......THE END......