Favour_ada_14

"How can a person plan to go through history when 35 of their books were all rejected?"
Well, that's Manon, a teenager with the wildest imagination.
Manon had only one wish. She made that wish every single day, but nothing happened until the necklace entered her life.
"Where am I?"
"Good afternoon, Miss Manon. How was your day?"
Manon's eyes were wide open. "Are you my necklace?"
"Yes, I am, and you can talk."
"Wow! Can I ask one last thing? Am I sleeping?"
"No, you're not."
Manon tried to faint, until she saw the necklace turn into something. "Are you a bunny now? How did you...?"
"There's more where that came from," it replied. "And I will grant you each power to become the novelist who goes down in history. But you have to go through some processes."
"What do you mean? What's with that mischievous smile you're having? I don't like it," Manon said, her eyebrows furrowed, her blue eyes looking at the bunny. Her eyes got even wider when it turned into a bird.
"First, you go through relationships: have your first kiss, make out, then you unlock a new power to be able to write. The more levels you obtain, the bigger the price. Your reward for your next mission is Romance. You write to make people reading it feel like they are there."
"What do you mean by 'making out'? Don't worry, in time you will learn. Trust me, it's going to be fun."
"How can I trust a necklace that talks, turns into a rabbit, then a bird?"
It looked at her. "Fair enough. So, are you ready to have your first mission? Look at your watch."
"What watch?" Manon looked at her left hand. "Oh. How? Talking necklace, I'm not surprised for some reason."
"First Mission: Fall in love and date the most famous and cutest guy in your high school."
"What?!"
How will Manon take this new mission? Stay tuned to know more missions she is going to entangle.
Will Manon's quest for literary greatness lead her to immortality, or will the secrets she uncovers rewrite her destiny in ways she never expected?

Writers Pov: I'll become the Novelist who goes down in history

Chapter 1: "I Must Be a Verified Writer"

Her mom's voice, warm and familiar, broke through her concentration. Manon blinked, realizing how long she'd been lost in the pages of Letters to Romeo by Ash-Knight 17.

"Mom, this isn't just any novel," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "The way Ash-Knight 17 writes about Romeo, it's like magic! It makes me feel like I'm there."

Her mom smiled, a tired but loving expression. "Okay, okay, dear. So, how's your own novel coming along?"

Manon turned to her computer, the screen reflecting the faint glow of the moon. "It's going great," she said, though the two downloads felt more like a whisper than a roar.

"That's wonderful dear." Her mother said, "Remember, even the best writers had to start somewhere." She placed a kiss on her forehead. "Don't sleep late, sweetheart, and don't forget to switch off the light." Then she left the room, leaving Manon to her thoughts.

Manon looked at her computer. Then, a notification popped up from the writing app. This morning, she'd been the happiest teenager in the world when she saw a message asking her to apply for a contract. But now, her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs.

Why is it pounding so hard? She thought.

Manon looked at the computer, then shifted her gaze, realizing something was missing. Her blue eyes searched her room, painted a soft lavender and filled with posters of her favorite authors and stacks of well-loved books. She looked at her good brown cotton blanket to see if she had left her teddy bear there while gazing at the night sky. The night sky, a canvas of deep indigo, twinkled with a million tiny stars. A sliver of moon hung like a silver smile.

She turned to her big bed. She frowned, realizing that Trans still decided to pick the pink bed sheet instead of the purple one she had insisted on.

"Teddy, teddy, where are you?" she asked, standing up.

Knowing very well her teddy couldn't talk, she shoved her dark hair from her face, her brows furrowed in frustration. "I can't check the messages without our teddy bear," she murmured, getting more upset.

She continued searching. She checked in her wardrobe; it was nowhere to be found.

Then, as her eyes traced the room, she spotted her white fluffy teddy bear beside her chair. She smiled; she had forgotten she placed it there. She carried the teddy bear with her left hand and placed her right hand on the computer. She clicked a few buttons, and the message opened. To her surprise, she was rejected.

Manon couldn't believe it. She could just breathe in and out and let it slide like a normal person would do. But she was not a normal person, not at all, and was not going to take this calmly at all.

First, she stood up from her chair. The computer crashed to the floor, a sickening thud echoing in the quiet room. Next, she yanked the teddy bear, its soft fur tearing, until its head ripped away, stuffing spilling out like cotton tears.

Finally, Manon went to her window. A raw, heartbroken scream tore from her throat, echoing into the night. "How can I become the novelist who goes down in history when thirty-five of my books were rejected? Tell me!" The words ripped through the night air, a desperate plea to the uncaring stars.

I must be a verified Writer.