Yeah this is a dumb short story I came up with listening to music. It's not great read it if you want.

Masashi Kishimoto's manga series "Naruto" follows Naruto Uzumaki's journey to become a respected ninja. The manga was adapted into an anime series (2002-2007) and dubbed in English (2005-2009). This book analyzes each episode of the anime series, from Season 1 to Season 5, going beyond a simple summary.

©2023 by Sarah Mkorongo. All rights reserved, and all characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Mkorongo

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise-without the prior written permission of the author.

Murphy is a believer in the paranormal and Victoria is a deadly ex-soldier who are part of a team deputized by the government to investigate and protect their cybernetic society from unusual threats. Their encounters range from potential alien technology, to monsters, to mysticism. Though they have limitless technology at their disposal, the mysteries they face may provide clues to a larger conspiracy that endangers the world.

Diya:A rich but a down to earth person ,has been engaged in business and charity ,Sponsering many students for further studies.Dhruv:A guy who was studying under Diya's Sponsership and was fallen hard for her,willing to kill or get killed for her--As there was few years gap between them,Does Diya Accept Dhruv's feelings,Will they be together?

I wrote a thing about a Hacker during the night, Pizza and Taco Delivery person during the day. Furthermore, she's living on earth after the planet has become subjugated to an alien race. So, there's that.

If you have creative screenplay or animation ideas, you might wonder how to turn your passion into a successful business. Many talented writers and animators create amazing stories but struggle to make money or grow their ideas beyond just projects. Building a business from your screenplay and animation ideas is possible with the right approach, planning, and tools. This article will guide you step-by-step on how to turn your creative work into a thriving business.

Why Build a Business from Your Screenplay and Animation Ideas?

Screenplays and animations are powerful forms of storytelling. They can entertain, educate, and inspire millions of people worldwide. With the rise of streaming services, independent studios, and digital platforms, there are more chances than ever to share and sell your creative content.

But turning creativity into a business means more than just writing or animating. It involves thinking about your audience, protecting your ideas, marketing, and finding ways to earn money. This article will cover everything you need to know to get started.

Understand Your Market and Audience

Before you invest time and money, it’s important to understand who will watch or buy your screenplay or animation. Different types of stories appeal to different audiences. For example, children’s animations need to be fun and colorful, while a drama screenplay might target adults.

Do some research online to find out what kinds of stories are popular. Look at streaming platforms like Netflix or YouTube and see what kinds of animations or films get lots of views. Join online communities and forums where people discuss screenplays and animation to understand what audiences like.

Knowing your audience helps you create stories that people want to see. It also makes it easier to sell or license your work later.

Protect Your Creative Ideas

When you have a screenplay or animation idea, protecting it is very important. If someone else copies your work, it can be hard to get it back. Here are some simple steps to protect your ideas:

Copyright your screenplay or animation: Copyright gives you legal ownership and protects your work from being copied without permission. In many countries, your work is automatically protected when you create it, but registering the copyright can add extra legal protection.

Use Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs): When you share your idea with others, like collaborators or potential investors, have them sign an NDA. This is a legal document that prevents them from sharing or using your idea without your permission.

Keep good records.Save drafts, emails, and notes showing when and how you created your work. This can help prove your ownership if needed.

Turn Your Idea into a Business Model

Having a great screenplay or animation idea is the first step, but to build a business, you need a clear plan on how to make money. Here are some common ways creators turn their ideas into income:

Licensing your screenplay or animation: You can license your work to studios, streaming services, or advertisers. Licensing means letting others use your story for a fee, while you keep ownership.

Merchandising: Popular animations can lead to merchandise sales like toys, clothing, or books.

Crowdfunding: Many creators use platforms like Kickstarter or Indiegogo to raise money from fans to produce their projects.

Selling scripts or animation services: If you are good at writing or animating, you can offer your services to clients.

Advertising revenue: Posting animations or short films on platforms like YouTube can generate income from ads.

Think about which options fit your goals and resources best.

Use the Right Tools to Create and Manage Your Work

Today, many tools can help screenwriters and animators work more efficiently. Using the right software can save time and improve the quality of your work.

For example, screenplay writing software helps you format your script correctly, while animation tools let you bring your characters to life. There are also new AI tools that can help speed up the process. If you want to plan your scenes visually, the best AI storyboard generator tools allow you to quickly create storyboards, helping you and your team see how your story flows before full production.

Using these tools not only improves your creative process but also helps when presenting your ideas to partners or investors.

Build Your Brand and Audience

Building a business means building a brand. Your brand is how people recognize you and your work. It includes your style, message, and how you connect with your audience.

Start by creating a website or online portfolio where you can showcase your screenplays, animation clips, or behind-the-scenes work. Share your process, ideas, and updates regularly on social media platforms like Instagram, Twitter, or TikTok, which are popular with creative communities.

Engage with your audience by replying to comments and asking for feedback. This builds trust and makes people more likely to support your projects.

Find Funding and Partnerships

Most creative businesses need some funding to grow. Here are some ways to get the money you need:

Self-funding: Use your savings or income to invest in your projects.

Grants and contests: Look for grants or competitions that support screenwriters and animators. Winning or getting funding from these can give you credibility.

Crowdfunding: As mentioned, crowdfunding platforms let you raise money from fans who believe in your idea.

Investors and partners: You can also look for investors who want to support creative businesses or partner with studios.

When approaching investors or partners, having a clear business plan and portfolio helps make a strong case.

Legal and Financial Basics

Running a business means handling legal and financial responsibilities.

Choose the right business structure (like sole proprietorship, LLC, or corporation) to protect yourself legally.

Use contracts when working with collaborators or clients to clearly state everyone’s rights and duties.

Keep track of your income and expenses for taxes and budgeting.

Consult with legal and financial experts if possible, especially when starting out.

Grow Your Business Step-by-Step

Start small with projects you can manage. As you gain experience and your audience grows, consider expanding:

Hire or collaborate with other writers, animators, or marketers.

Explore new markets like TV, mobile apps, or gaming.

Create spin-offs, merchandise, or workshops based on your original ideas.

Growing gradually helps you learn and avoid big risks.

Learn from Successful Creators

Many creators have turned their screenplays and animations into successful businesses. Study their journeys and learn what worked for them. This might include:

How they found their audience

How they protected their ideas

What business models they used

How they marketed and funded their projects

These lessons can inspire and guide you.

Final Thoughts

Building a business from your screenplay and animation ideas takes creativity, planning, and patience. It’s not just about making stories but also about understanding your audience, protecting your work, finding ways to earn money, and growing your brand.

Start by researching your market, protecting your ideas, and choosing the right tools, like the best AI storyboard generator,to bring your ideas to life. Build your brand online, seek funding wisely, and keep learning as you go. With hard work and smart decisions, your creative passion can become a successful business.

Lamija Begovic was raised in a world of power, pressure, and perfection. As the daughter of one of Sarajevo's most influential men, she  was raised to take over an empire-sharp, fearless, and unbothered by the men who try (and fail) to impress her.

Ayub Husić has spent years at her brother's side: quiet, strategic, and quietly in love with the one woman he can never have.

He keeps his distance. She barely notices.

Until her father reassigns him-directly under her leadership.

Now, she's watching. He's unraveling. And the lines they never crossed before are starting to blur.

What if instead of aliens' invading Earth, humans invaded their planet?

After World war III reduced Earth to ashes, the last remnants of humanity fled to the stars, carving a new empire among the clouds of an alien world- *Elysium*. But this new paradise was already home to a native civilisation, one now shackled under the terms of a brutal treaty. Every year, the aliens pay tribute. Every day, their skies are shadowed by the ships of their human overlords.

The people of Elysium live under the boot of the Dominion-an authoritarian human regime that controls every aspects of life. Children are bred, not born. Raised not to love or dream, but to dominate. The highest honour in this twisted society is to become an Avatar-a chosen warrior diplomat engineered to mimic their slaves and maintain human supremacy.

Evan, a gifted but rebellious young recruit, never wanted this life. He dreams of something the Dominion forbids: *freedom.* But when he's selected to complete in the Trails, a brutal gauntlet meant to forge the next generation of Avatars, he must fight not just to survive-but to understand the truth behind the Dominion, the aliens they oppress, and the role he was bred to play.

As Evan's beliefs are shattered and loyalties tested, he'll face an impossible choice: rise as a symbol of oppression, or burn it all down...and take himself down with it.

In a world built on ashes and lies, what does it mean to be human anymore?

What would you do to if the world around you was falling apart? What would you do to prove you weren't crazy. These questions are what Julie May asks herself constantly as the world around her seems to fall apart.

Come along on an adventure of fantasy and horror and ask yourself one question.

"Can you hear the Fairy's song."

Okay so when i finish this book i'll make a female reader one, if this story possibly doesn't get taken down.

\\\Story description///

you along with your childhood friend max both live in Guardiana while training under a centaurian knight named Varios but one day he is called to the castle for an unknown reason. read to know what happens next!

The Tragedy in the Bakery

It was the night of negotiations when I saw my guest off. With a weariness in my body, I sat on the cushion on the floor and gazed at the candles flickering softly in the corners of the house. The snacks on the plate still sparkled, my head was heavy and my heart full. I started crying, as if every time a guest comes or goes, I wait for a (different) someone to open the door for them or close it for their sake. The sound of the news came from my phone, and every few minutes, the word (negotiation) was repeated. I pick up my phone and write to him:

“Mr. so-and-so, indirect negotiations between Iran and the US took place, but there was no message from you for negotiations, communication, sending smoke, whistles, shots, sounds, bells, bangs, or any kind of news. If you think you're clever, you're not. I'm still on the cold wooden stairs, watching with my head tilted right toward you. You in the hut, and I in the narrow house. I am sweet, you are the good Khosrow. I cried a lot... I mean really a lot. If I'm alive, it's just because I want you to be less and for your fears to fade into the ground. Otherwise, I've been pulled back into the Adenosine injection again! I was in the hospital. See, I'm going to die! Don't feel bad, okay? If my letter reached you, how could you be so cruel not to write a single line in reply? Since (so-and-so date), I've been missing you like lightning struck me. Why, man? Why did you hurt me? Why did you break my heart?

‘We’ve washed, with the blood of the liver, the robe of the soul / No thread of his remains, nor any warp, O cupbearer!’

I am the stone of the kick,

Your production."

I sent it, thinking how I wish I could ride on the wings of technology and send it into his phone or into his ears at that speed! I remember Saadi’s poem: "There is peace between infidelity and Islam, yet you still fight with us."

My head is dizzy, I pick a piece of cheese with my fork and eat it. I light my cigarette, go to the window, and as I puff on the cigarette, I think to myself: why did I send this message? Didn't the doctor tell me: 'You, my sweet, perfect lady, a fragile glass, a pearl of mine, why are you even thinking of him? This man has no existence outside, no life, no soul. You're imagining him. He doesn't even have a heart. He is not alive! His lack of response means nothing to you.' I hear the doctor's voice in my head, and I remember telling him, 'You, who have no existence, something has settled in my bones...'

Dr. Hiz's eyes always lingered on my hennaed hands. Once he asked me where else I apply henna besides my hands, and I said, "On my feet, a little above my ankles, on my chest, my lips, my hair, and on both hands a little above the wrists..." And he said, "How has this man not been enchanted by a woman as ethereal as you?" I replied, naïvely like Baytai Hejiri, "Well, he likes whiskey." The doctor said, "In your letter, you called him a superman, but he's not even made of clouds, cotton, or sponge. He's just a joker. Forgive him." I replied, "I won't forgive him." All of these conversations paraded in front of me, and I struggled within myself because, as Mokhtari said, a human being’s bag is not milk; it leaves a place for pain.

The ash from my cigarette fell to the floor and crumbled. I crushed it under my shoe on the tiles. Without paying attention to this mess, I reached for the bowl on the table and ate the remaining chips. When I came to my senses, my face was wet with tears. The blue flickering lights in my home slowly turned off and on again, inviting me to sleep. "Oh woman, come, sleep, you’re so tired." But "What’s sleep to the eyes of a lover?" I am a servant of long nights. I am a woman of the night. If there is any light in life, it's a tiny spark that warms my heart during these nights, insomnia, and madness.

The bruises on the skin of my left hand, where the veins from the IV needle had been connected, were still visible. A bruise like a violet flower had made its mark on the whiteness of my skin. I thought of deleting my message, as I’m a writer in this country and being left without a response crushes my heart. But I was too tired to do anything, so I told myself, “To hell with it! One day, I will die, and everything will be read all at once. A day when it’s too late, and the tea has gone cold.”

The next day, I wake up. I feel weak, and my blood pressure is low. The air is turning dark. I quickly get out of bed, eat a quick breakfast so I don’t faint from weakness. In the hallway, the smell of fresh bread fills the air, and even though I haven’t eaten bread for years, I crave going to the bakery to buy a piece of hot, oven-fresh bread. I put on my cotton jacket and tightly fasten my belt so my pants won’t fall down from my thin waist. I angrily check my phone, and I see my message still unread... I curse myself. I walk out of the house with firm steps. I tell myself, tonight I won’t let my feelings control me. I’ll open my ears and let myself be humiliated as much as he wants. Maybe I’ll become a better person. As he said, “Maybe you haven’t been humiliated enough yet.” No... the traces of the important men in my life have been so deep that I haven’t been humiliated enough.

I run my hand along the springtime hedges and breathe in the scent of blossoms. My hair is tied up in a cherry-colored bun, and for a piece of bread, I’m going out of my way, hoping my soul doesn’t melt from the craving for fresh, hot bread. The night falls. The call to prayer sounds, and I find myself in the bakery with my shoulders slumping in the dusk. I want to call him from there and tell him, “Mr. so-and-so, stranger, good-for-nothing, you left me behind. Is this how you treat people?”

But his voice rings in my ears:

"Ah, I saw you called, but when my photo pops up on my phone, I just turn it off. Ha ha ha."

I think of my face. How seeing my photo bothers him or how easily he opens his mouth to lash out at me. I tell my guardian angel, "You are my witness." This man, like those who have drunk magic water or locked their seven bonds, did everything in his power to torture me. The thought of the tears I’ve shed, the nights I stayed awake, and the cigarettes we never shared together disgusts me. I wish I could scoop all these ruthless words from my memory and throw them into the well, but alas...

I’m in the bakery now, and the heat from the oven touches my face. I think my heart is burning like the oven, and I miss him terribly. The kind bakers with smiles on their faces, far from the weakness of the wealthy and obsessed with money, invite me to sit with them. I’ve seen one or two of them before. I had brought them sweets, and we had kneaded dough together and talked about flowers. The bakery, where life flows among the pure-hearted people, I turned to them and said, “I came for a fresh, hot loaf, but first, can someone lend me their phone to make a call?”

Like in gangster movies, five phones appeared in front of me. They said, “Call anyone you want, say whatever you need. Go ahead.” I laughed. It felt like an old film. I chose the oldest phone and said, “I want to call my teacher who’s mad at me.”

The baker said, “My phone is yours, sister.”

I turned my back on them and dialed his number. My hand trembled as if connected to electricity. My eyelid began to twitch. On the second ring, he picks up, cheerful and carefree, waiting to talk to an unknown number. Without saying hello, I say, “We washed, with the blood of the liver, the robe of the soul / No thread of his remains, nor any warp, O cupbearer... I won’t wait to see what he says. I continue, ‘Not a moment passed without me thinking of you, not a page of the calendar turned without me writing about you...’” It seems he’s starting to understand. He falls silent and greets me, saying he’s been busy, very busy. I say, “Everyone’s busy, I wrote to you, you didn’t reply. I called, you didn’t answer. Is this how it works?”

He shoots me down, a professional marksman, saying, “Nothing happened, we only met twice.”

It feels like snakes twisting inside me. I get sick thinking of those nights, of all the laughs we had, and suddenly he looked at me and answered my question about whether he truly didn’t love me with a laugh: “Ha ha, no, I really don’t love you. Ha ha ha.”

My hand shakes, the juice of my soul pours out, and I can’t look at the bakers. Suddenly, he asks, “How are you?”

What should I say? That I’m dying? Does it even matter to someone who doesn’t make time for you? For someone who doesn’t care? So I censor the truth and only, relying on my latest test results, say, “You could have prevented this from happening with my test results!” And I remember my grandfather and continue, “I never thought after my grandfather, a great sorrow would knock me down. But you did. You turned your back on the light.”

I don’t continue. To someone who has fallen asleep, talking about energy, karma, dharma, and how tomorrow is too late, how tea is cold, and how indifference to others' suffering is useless – it wouldn’t help.

I want to hang up the phone abruptly, but to my surprise, the baker holds up a large frying pan with an omelet and offers it to me. He says, “It smells good, come eat with us. Don’t go, we’d feel indebted.”

I think about how the people here, with hearts as pure as crystal, embody nobility without attending philosophy or mysticism classes. In the same sacred bakery attire, with their white aprons, they are a true example of grandeur.

Months ago, I had wished to break my vegan diet on the Chalous road and treat myself to a couple of eggs or a roadside omelet. Now, why would I want to interrupt this moment for a little bread? From the other side, the phone asks, “Did you take the baker’s phone – and of course, laughing, like a gazelle in a pasture – ?”

I say, “I don’t know...” I turn to the bakers and ask, “Who is the baker here?”

My mind starts spinning. I feel like I could burst from joy. It’s like I have wings on my shoulders. Wow, I’m someone important enough to be asked!

I say, “Learn from these bakers, who are people of heart and purity...”

I hang up the phone, feeling braver than ever. As always, I’ve never owed or been indebted to my heart and feelings. I take the fresh bread in my hand and leave, thinking how much I want to go to that place where we smoked together and I sent my birthday balloon to the sky for him.

_______________________________________________________________________

sanaz seyed esfahani

This is story about 2 lovers  who met in  fashion designing company and the story turns in to a roller coaster it's small intro How they met ? What happened between them and  how the story get ending ?