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Can I use the random paragraphs that this tool creates?
In private works, yes. The paragraphs are pulled from existing creative works on The Story Shack, and should be used only as a source of inspiration in most cases.
How many ideas can I generate with this Random Paragraph Generator?
The Random Paragraph Generator can generate thousands of ideas for your project, so feel free to keep clicking and at the end use the handy copy feature to export your paragraphs to a text editor of your choice. Enjoy!
10 random paragraphs to get you inspired
There's thousands of ideas in this tool. Here are some samples to start:
|Idea #1||The shop was not much bigger than a cupboard. As a solution to this problem, the place had been filled with sturdy wooden shelves, leaving a little room for a counter and a workbench. People definitely didn’t come here for luxury, but The Fixer had never been about that anyway. Affordable repairs, that’s what it was for. Housewives from all over the neighborhood brought their broken vacuum cleaners, blenders, lamps and other household trinkets here. They didn’t care that the place was a dust pile, as long as they could exchange a couple of their green bills for their once again functioning devices. | © Martin Hooijmans|
|Idea #2||The prisoner possessed an incredible capacity for anguish. We crushed entire galaxies, literally crushed them beneath our boots (BOOTS device of course but who can remember what the acronym stands for?), and he would not give up his associates. So I put a bullet in a universe and it turned to ash in front of him. An Infinite that this man had created, gone in an instant. We would destroy them all, eventually, but different to see it happen. Knowing-children-will-die-someday-but-confident-it-will-be-after-you-are-gone different. | © Alexander Burns|
|Idea #3||I had certain expectations of Jerusalem: churches and mosques and Western Walls, an assortment of weird and wonderful new food, and maybe a political discussion or two. What I hadn’t anticipated was being hit on by an Israeli goat herder at a party beneath the walls of the Old City. | © Adam Watts|
|Idea #4||Edel never sleeps. She swings in her boss’s silo, post-rota, drifting her chemically unhinged consciousness across her brain’s hemispheres as she staggers on the concrete loading dock, chrome spurs flaring. The triumphant surge of a wild cat lifts at her fluttering heart, held together by gently gnawing stitches and an (ignored) bio-surgeon’s manual. Venom hovers at her shoulders: phantom feeling. Yi promised the scorpion-tab would dissipate the moment she’d withdrawn. | © Brian Dodge|
|Idea #5||Kun-hee woke up screaming|
|Idea #6||a jingjok — a tiny, cute reptilian creature, part of the gecko family — had fallen from the ceiling and landed on her face. | © Jeffrey Miller|
|Idea #7||The first night my Grandma stayed with us, I woke up in the middle of the night because of her terrible screams. The first thought that came to my mind was to leave the house, to abandon everything and run for it because something horrible must have happened. But instead I ran into my brother’s room to wake him up, but he was already out of bed, pulling on his pants. | © Lena Wilms|
|Idea #8||The hot summer sun beat down on my exposed face. Today was the wrong day to wear full military fatigues. Despite the heat, we set out on our protest. The stench of freshly poured asphalt stung my nose as we marched down Main Street toward the Marine recruiting office. | © Liz Jamar|
|Idea #9||I met a proper woman in a proper pub on a Monday in Peoria. It was noon, time for lunch, and we were sitting stool to stool over very large burgers at a long mahogany bar. It curved in and out as if wind-swept and featured high stools with padded seats and backrests, all in a rich faux maroon that complemented the authentic mahogany. The waiter had put us at the bar together, on the last two empty stools, thinking we had arrived there as a couple. Apologizing with his head bowed, he said no tables were available. | © Donal Mahoney|
|Idea #10||Little bubbles escaped the young knight’s mouth, as he uttered his last curses at the opponent who looked down at him from the ridge that had been his final battleground. The ridiculous looking ferret that adorned his foe’s shield still swam in front of his eyes, the legacy of the mighty smash that had sent him flying. His promise of glory had failed him just as much as the rusty armor that would be his watery grave. | © Martin Hooijmans|
|Idea #11||Haymore, lissen. You hear me? This here is the onliest phone call I kin have. | © Gary Ives|
Psst! You can view saved ideas (also offline) in your storage chest!