How Movellas Changed My Life

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  • Published: 25 Jul 12
  • On 45 favourite lists
Blurb *To Niall, the bestest, kindest, most patient friend I have ever had. As long as I live, I shall never forget you.* When Clover, shy and quiet fourteen-year-old hears of Movellas, she finds out she actually has a talent for writing. Movellas becomes her life. But how will her ex-popular friend Helen cope with this sudden surge in popularity for Clover? Will she be pleased or will she do her best to sabotage her reputation on Movellas?

Plot keywords:
love,  movellas,  friendship,  realism
Approx 1 hours to read
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1. Finding Movellas

I used to be so depressed. Shy, plain, quiet. No friends. Then I met Helen in secondary school. She was VERY popular. Chin length blond hair, sky-blue eyes, amazing personality, everybody loved her. And for some completely weird reason, she took a shine to me. I'm still trying to work out what it is about my long dark wavy hair, tanned skin and almond eyes she took a liking to.


Her friends couldn't understand it either. What interest could a short loner have with a beautiful Miss Popular? They never said anything, but I could see it in their eyes. Helen urged me to their outings, sleepovers, parties. But her friends never accepted me. Helen knew it too.


So, gradually, Helen and I drifted away from popular life. Helen, Hannah, Poppy, Louise and Clover became Hannah, Poppy and Louise. Helen and I moved to the fringes of the school circles. It was nice, just Helen and I. Well Helen, me and Danté. Just a friend, I assumed Danté was gay. He was too nice to be straight. At fifteen, I was still one of those girls who dreamed of book fantasies.


Ah. The key issue in my story. Books and writing. See, I loved reading. And I was really good at writing. It was about time I was good at something. Helen liked writing aswell. She was pretty good at it too. But for her it was more of a hobby. Me too, at first. Well until I was told about Movellas.




It was a cold morning, mid-December. We were all stuck in English for a double. I liked English though, and so did Helen. The previous week we had all turned in a short story to our teacher Ms. Malone. And the stories were back to bite us in the back-side.


Ms. Malone was giving out stink to most of the class. You could have probably heard her roars from the other side of the school. Dark, curly hair, a freckled face and the tiny size of her, she was slightly more comical than I'm sure she intended. I was pleasantly surprised to find a big red A* and a comment: Very good Clover. I could find no faults, as usual. Your story drew me in. I strongly advice you to check out this website. Good luck!

A. Malone.


So I did check it out. And it changed my life forever.

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