Does This Sound Like a Good Story Idea?
Question by ?ø: Does this sound like a good story idea?
It’s about a girl named Charlie, who, despite her better efforts, always got a little lost in life. She believed she was free, but then she was tied down with responsibilities no teen should have to portray. That is until her mother moves the family to a town where no one knew her, and she had a chance to start over.
That’s when she meets Pacey, the Jesus freak from Kentucky, and Matt, the football jock from the golden state. They all find themselves growing closer and closer together in the cold winds of New York. All struck by tragedy, and despair, Charlie pulls them out of their holes, Matt’s drug addiction, and part antics, and Pacey’s constant worrying on whether she’s obeying the rules of God. Charlie teaches them how to love, shows them the way to be, and in the end, helps them become more than they ever thought possible, and in her death, she’d brought a whole world closer together.
Love is stronger than any emotion, stronger than hate. Love could conquer what destruction brings, this was the truth according to Charlie.
Excerpt of Preface:
There are three ways to live, according to me, and whoever listens is a fool. The first is to live the life of a nihilist, be a person who believes the human existence has no objective meaning, purpose, or intrinsic value. The first way to live blocks out all understanding of an asset based on an underlying perception of its value including all aspects of the life, in terms of both tangible and intangible factors. There is a God out there, and he is who controls our life. The second is to live the life of an existentialist, be a man who is concerned with the actions and emotions of humans, and the path that they seem to lay for themselves. Only preparing his mind for emotions, actions, responsibilities, and thoughts, they are pro human so to speak, intrigued with the existential spiritual being of man. One who believes no high force is called upon him, that not one soul can stray his mind from the actions that set his life’s paths. And the third way to live, is the life I choose, to live free of stereotypical categories, stray away from the single minded arguments of God and No God, Right and Wrong. The third way is to live as an Humanist, live by the way of our rights, and our values. Not to succumb to those arguments, but embrace them, and turn them into something greater than we can dream.
There are two ways to die, according to me. The first is to die in the dreams of a well fought life. To die knowing that you’ve made a difference, not only in the inner being, but in the outer world, outside yourself. To know that somewhere, somehow, your actions have affected a life, for greater or for worse, you’ve changed a human completely; this is the right way to die. The Second way is to die alone, die in the sadness you cornered, and shoved throughout your existence. To die knowing this is the end, and all is as it will be. Leaving behind strings left untied, and shoes left unpolished. This is the wrong way to die, but right and wrong have never been so close before.
As a child, I played with barbies and pretend I was the plastic goddess. I thought that one day Ken would come along, and sweep me off my feet. I’d buy a pink Cadillac, and consume great friends with money and power. As I prepubescent tween, I played with make up, tried on my poor mother’s clothes, and sang along to classic Brittany Spears songs, screaming my head off until the neighbors called the police to see if I was being murdered. As a teen, I was more concerned with how I would survive, than how much money I could make, or how pretty I could look. I grew up faster than the other children my age, I turned fifteen, and I felt fifty. Paying bills, and watching my younger siblings until my mother got home from along days at work. I threw my barbies in the trash, and burned my pricey clothes collection. I thought I was doing it right, but in the end, I realized I’d made mistakes, and screwed up the happiness I died with. That was until my mother decided that selling the house was the best idea she’d ever had, the house she’d been living in for forty eight years was becoming more of a prison than a home.
This was how the truth according to Charlie, according to me, was formed, how my beliefs strung out like a guitar and played a melody I could only hear, one I could only teach. One so complicated, that it was simple, that it took me five years to wrap my mind around. I found that when my death came to me, and not one tear was shed, that I did the right thing. I taught people how to love.
good? bad? I know it needs improvement, just a rough idea, just like all my other ones.
Best answer:
Answer by Victoria Selone
I really, really like this!!!! Keep going please, you’ve caught my attention, and I want to know more!!!!!!
What do you think? Answer below!
Bath Salts: The Drug That Never Lets Go
Filed under: Kentucky Drug Addiction
Bath salts had also surfaced in Illinois, Kentucky and Florida, but Louisiana was hit especially hard. The product that Sanders snorted was called Cloud 9. At the time of his death, he was in a drug program for marijuana abuse, actively attending group …
Read more on PBS NewsHour
Ringleader, seven others sentenced in drug conspiracy
Filed under: Kentucky Drug Addiction
LOUISVILLE, KY (WAVE) – A date for two Louisville residents turned tragic late Saturday night.Police say the two were riding on a moped, when a car turned and the two collided. …. "The prosecution of individuals involved in the illegal distribution …
Read more on WBTV
Appeals court hears arguments in Upper Big Branch case
Filed under: Kentucky Drug Addiction
State reclamation programs in Kentucky, Illinois, Montana, Utah and Pennsylvania will receive awards on Sept. 24. State reclamation … The drug abuse crisis plaguing the West Virginia is causing more and more children to live in unfit homes. The drug …
Read more on WOWK