"Good,"
He said, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Now, let's get started.
Open your notebooks, and let me see what kind of writers I'm dealing with."
I pulled out my notebook, my mind already racing with ideas.
The thrill of being in this environment, surrounded by like-minded individuals and under the guidance of such an authoritative figure, was electrifying.
For the next hour, he walked us through the fundamentals of storytelling.
He spoke about the importance of setting, the nuances of character development, and the power of conflict in driving a narrative. Every word he spoke felt like gold, and I scribbled down notes as fast as I could.
By the end of the lecture, my notebook was filled with ideas, and my mind buzzed with possibilities.
Though some of the students there were known for being troublesome and bullies, their wild demeanor was often intimidating, and I tried my best to steer clear of them.
Their joy in targeting and teasing others was something I had observed but never experienced firsthand,
and I hoped to keep it that way.
The lecture was in full swing when the professor, a sharp-eyed man with an air of authority, looked around the room and posed a question.
"Alright,
can somebody list the first features of story generation?"
he asked, his gaze scanning the hesitant faces of my peers.
The room grew quiet, with most students either avoiding his gaze or pretending to be deeply engrossed in their notes. For a moment,
I debated staying silent like the others. But something compelled me, an unfamiliar surge of confidence bubbling up. Before I even realized it, I was standing.
"I can,"
I said, my voice clear and steady, cutting through the silence.
The lecturer arched an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Alright, let's hear it,"
He said, motioning for me to go ahead.
I took a deep breath, organizing my thoughts.
"The first features of fiction creation focus on these:
Concept Development – Every great story begins with a captivating idea.
World-Building – A vivid, immersive setting that feels alive is essential.
Protagonist Creation – The main character must be compelling and relatable.
Conflict Introduction – The heart of the story lies in its challenges and struggles.
Plot Outline – Structuring the narrative ensures a logical and engaging flow.
Tone and Genre – These elements set the mood and style of the story.
Hook/Inciting Incident – A gripping moment early on draws readers in.
Themes and Motifs – These add depth and resonance to the narrative.
Supporting Cast – Side characters enrich the story and support the protagonist's journey.
Narrative Voice – A unique storytelling perspective ties it all together."
As I finished,
I noticed my heart was racing.
The words flowed from me effortlessly, almost as if I were reading from a script etched in my mind.
"That's all,"
I added, glancing at the professor nervously.
He nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"You got it,
man. Well done."
A ripple of murmurs spread across the room as every head turned toward me. Some students looked genuinely impressed, others seemed skeptical, and a few stared at me with expressions I couldn't quite decipher.
I felt my face flush with heat, my sudden burst of confidence now replaced by a wave of self-consciousness. Normally, I preferred to blend into the background, but now, all eyes were on me.
"Wow, look at the genius,"
one of the troublemakers muttered just loud enough for the others to hear, eliciting a few snickers.
I ignored the comment, focusing instead on what had just happened.
How did I know all that?
I wondered.
Sure, I enjoyed writing and had read a lot about storytelling, but the way I had rattled off that list—it was like my brain had shifted into a higher gear.
I tried to focus, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the moment.
Something was changing within me. My mind felt sharper, my thoughts clearer, as though a hidden reservoir of knowledge and insight had suddenly been unlocked.
"Those features he listed are the foundation of storytelling, the very core that every author needs to focus on when crafting a narrative.
You can't just imagine a scenario or a fiction and dive straight into writing,"
The lecturer said with authority, pacing across the front of the classroom.
"You need to go through a process. Build the foundation,
create the elements, and only then step into the world of fiction writing. Am I clear, students?"
"Yeah, we got you,"
the class replied in unison, some nodding, others scribbling notes diligently.
"Good,"
he said with a slight smile, pausing briefly as if to measure the seriousness in the room.
"Keep all ears till the end because this next part is crucial."
The lecturer scanned the room, his gaze landing on students here and there.
"Now,
Let's move on to something that keeps readers on the edge of their seats.
Can someone explain the term cliffhangers?
I want full details—definition, purpose, examples,
and everything in between. Who's ready to tackle this?"
The classroom was silent for a moment. A few students exchanged glances, unsure whether to speak up.
One boy in the corner fidgeted nervously with his pen. The lecturer's eyes roamed over the sea of hesitant faces before landing on me.
"How about you?"
he said, pointing my way.
I froze for a second. Me? Again? The gazes of the entire class turned toward me. There was no escape.
Summoning all the courage I could muster, I stood up slowly.
"Alright, sir,"
I began, my voice a little shaky at first,
"I can explain it."
"Good," he said, crossing his arms and leaning slightly against the desk.
"We're all ears."
I took a deep breath.
"A cliffhanger is a narrative technique used to create suspense by ending a story, a chapter,
or even a scene at a critical or exciting point.
It leaves the reader or viewer wondering what will happen next.
This technique is most commonly used in serialized fiction, movies,
and TV shows to keep the audience hooked and eager for the next installment."
The lecturer nodded, signaling me to continue.
"The main purpose of a cliffhanger," I said, feeling a bit more confident,
"is to build suspense,
maintain interest, and leave a lasting impact on the audience.
It creates a sense of urgency and emotional investment.
When the story ends abruptly at a crucial moment, the audience is left in anticipation, which ensures they come back to find out what happens next."
"Interesting," the lecturer said.
"Examples?"
"Yes, sir," I said, scanning my thoughts.
"In literature, one famous example is in The
Fellowship of the
Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien.
It ends with Frodo setting off alone, leaving readers anxious about his fate.
Another example is in
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins,
where Katniss and Peeta survive the games, but the Capitol won't let them get away with defying the rules."
I paused to gather my thoughts before adding,
"In TV shows,
Breaking Bad uses cliffhangers masterfully, like when Hank discovers Walt is Heisenberg.
And in movies,
the end of Avengers: Infinity War—
when half the universe disappears—had everyone desperate for the sequel. Even Inception left audiences puzzled with the spinning top scene."
"Excellent examples," the lecturer said.
"And the types?"
"There are different types of cliffhangers, sir,"
I explained.
"For instance, there's physical danger, like when a character is trapped or in mortal peril.
Then there are emotional cliffhangers, where unresolved arguments or confessions leave readers wanting closure. A revelation cliffhanger drops shocking information, like a plot twist.
And then there's the classic mystery cliffhanger, where something ambiguous or unexplained keeps the audience guessing."
The lecturer clapped lightly.
"Well done!
You've covered it all."
The class erupted into murmurs. I could feel the stares again, but this time, they felt different—less judgmental, more impressed.
"Alright, class,"
the lecturer said, raising a hand to quiet everyone.
"You see what just happened here?
That's what happens when you're prepared. He not only answered but educated us all."
I sat down, my cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. My heart was still racing, but I couldn't help the slight smile tugging at my lips.
"Now,
Let's move on to some exercises," the lecturer continued, turning back to the board.
Meanwhile, I tried to calm my nerves, realizing that I had just turned one of the most intimidating moments of the day into a surprising victory.
But deep inside, a question lingered that I couldn't shake off.
This… this wasn't my usual self. Sure,
I've always been bright, but this level of intelligence?
It felt otherworldly, like something had unlocked a part of me I didn't even know existed.
"This isn't normal," I muttered under my breath, my mind racing.
"How am I able to recall and articulate all this information so effortlessly?"
It felt almost as though my brain had been supercharged.
A floodgate had opened, and knowledge—sharp, precise, and seemingly infinite—was pouring through.
I leaned back in my seat, staring blankly at the lecturer's notes on the board but hardly seeing them.
"Have I gotten a superpower or something?"
The thought was ridiculous, yet oddly compelling.
"No, that's impossible," I told myself, shaking my head as if to dispel the idea. But the strangeness of it all wouldn't let me rest.
"Who even gave me this power?" I whispered under my breath,
glancing around to make sure no one had noticed me talking to myself.
My memory flashed back to moments from the past few days.
Had anything unusual happened? I tried to piece it together, but there was nothing out of the ordinary—or was there?