Descubre más cosas aleatorias ideas para escribir
- Ideas de la trama
- Títulos de libros
- Sugerencias de escritura
- Títulos de las historias
- Personalidades de los personajes
¿Puedo utilizar el párrafos aleatorio que crea esta herramienta?
Sí que puedes. The Story Shack no reclama derechos de autor sobre ninguno de estos nombres, pero, por supuesto, es posible que algunos de los valores que proporciona este generador de nombres ya sean propiedad de otra persona, así que asegúrate de hacer siempre la debida diligencia.
¿Cuántas ideas puedo generar con este Generador de párrafos al azar?
El Generador de párrafos al azar puede generar miles de ideas para tu proyecto, así que no dudes en seguir haciendo clic y, al final, utiliza la práctica función de copia para exportar tu párrafos a un editor de texto de tu elección. ¡Que lo disfrutes!
¿Qué son los buenos párrafos?
Hay miles de párrafos aleatorios en este generador. Aquí tienes algunos ejemplos para empezar:
|Idea #1||When the rest of the men in the tribe returned to the camp, they found Ruckruck sitting in front of the fire. The women sat further back and, although they were busy sorting the fruits and berries, they were suspiciously slow about it. The old ones had the children sequestered safely in the cave. | © Lee Blevins|
|Idea #2||At the gas station, Clyde grabs a six pack of sausages. “Are you for real, man?” Malachi is fed up by now. He prides himself on being a good-natured and patient companion, but Clyde’s aberrant and impulse-led behavior causes him to doubt his mental health. “I need protein,” Clyde defends himself and pays for the meat. Malachi refuses to look at the cashier as he puts the coins for his soft drink on the counter. Outside, Malachi hits Clyde on the left arm, hard. The sausages tumble to the floor, unbroken. Plastic has saved Clyde’s dinner once again. “Ouch. What are you doing that for?” Clyde yells and bares his teeth in an animistic expression. “You are nuts,” Malachi concludes. He has planned to say much, much more, but Clyde’s bare teeth and the slight growl deep in his throat convince him otherwise. | © Melanie Boeckmann|
|Idea #3||It’s been four months since you left. | © Paul Alex Gray|
|Idea #4||Pietro’s arm vibrates with the force of the lump hammer as it comes down hard on the metal plough. | © Carla Dow|
|Idea #5||The kid’s eyes were downcast, fixed on the instrument of death that lay on the table in front of him. Stains of blood from its previous victims glimmered their stale red in the dim light of the kitchen. His mom stood behind him, cowering in fear, moaning, pushed back into a corner by one of the thugs who had entered the house. Across the table stood a selection of men. The frightened one, his face already a battlefield of cuts, bruises and smeared blood, was pushed down hard on the chair opposite the twelve-year old. When he began screaming he was briskly punched in the face again, the final blow that was needed to get him into a state of drifting in and out of consciousness. | © Martin Hooijmans|
|Idea #6||Owl slunk away from the locked door and sat on the warped wooden steps. He sucked at the blood seeping from the cracked skin on his knuckle. The few drops of blood made his stomach rumble. | © Craig Towsley|
|Idea #7||In the instant she heard the crash, Sophie woke to a certainty that someone was downstairs. She searched the empty sheets and raged silently at Dinah for being away at a conference. If only Sophie had gone too, or at least asked Dinah to stay. But they couldn’t be together all the time, and sooner or later Dinah was going to need some space. Something downstairs shuffled and thudded, and Sophie fought hard against the images of her past attack. | © Michael Critzer|
|Idea #8||Although it was not on my regular route, I had driven by the house with no windows many times. And each time, I would give it a glance and wonder what kind of people could possibly live in a house without windows. The funny thing is, no one around here ever realized that this house’s windows were bricked up until the owners started clearing out their front woods several years back. Then suddenly when the leaves dropped, the hidden house appeared. And that’s when the gossip started. | © Christina C. Franklin|
|Idea #9||Jonathan surveyed the vast prairie from his saddle. The sky was blue and clear, and a single lonely cloud floated overhead. It was the type of cloud content in its isolation, happy to sit still on the prairie unless the wind beckoned it otherwise. Farther off, a thin trail of gray smoke twirled upwards toward the cloud. | © Eric White|
|Idea #10||They say yellow is the colour of cowardice and I’ve never doubted it. I feel hot waves of yellowness surge through me as I cringe in shadow now. It’s there to shame me|
|Idea #11||to show me up for what I am. I’m yellow through and through. I want to leave this place and hide myself away. I have enemies you see. The gang that hangs about round here, they’re out to get me. Darkened shapes dart this way and that. It’s them. I’ve got into their bad books and my life is now at risk. What I need is a disguise, for safety’s sake. | © Jay Merill|
¡Puedes ver las ideas guardadas (también sin conexión) en tu cofre de almacenamiento!