reedsymarketplace
Assemble a team of professionals
reedsystudio
The writing app for authors
reedsylearning
Writing courses, events and memberships
reedsydiscovery
Get your book reviewed
reedsyprompts
Weekly writing prompts and contests
Writing courses, events and conferences
Upcoming events
Live Editing #4 with Noah Charney
January 26, 2026
Previous events
Raising the Stakes: Build Tension on Every Page
January 19, 2026
Level Up Your Writing in 2026
January 18, 2026
First Impressions: Rocking the First Line and Paragraph
January 12, 2026
Learn how to succeed as a writer from the best in the business.
Every writer needs a Studio
Check out our writing app for authors!
Menu
More apps built by Reedsy
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2021
Submitted to Contest #204
Dusk- The moment the sun dips beyond the horizon, giving its rule to the twilight hours. Here, Dusk is place marked on the Coan’s map with a black dot. 35055 acres of dirt and the desecrated ashes of living things that prayed for a sip of water and died with hanging tongues. The only creature that thrives in Dusk lives by drinking the blood of its brethren. I know because I am one of their kind. Full of hate and jealousy, I dream in my human mind to crawl out of this pit and turn the pipe above and drown this godless place. &nb...
Submitted to Contest #181
-Contains gun violence.- The whipping march wind lashed against the side of the little house on Clair Ave. It banged the loose shutters and screamed to be let inside the warm bungalow. Daniel huddled by the flame of the gas heater. His newly wed wife clung to his arms as she nuzzled her face in his chest. They had drawn the blinds and turned off the lights, seeking asylum within their four cream-colored walls painted not even a week ago. “I’m sorry.” He smoothed her frizzled strains of hair and drew her tight against him. Black mascara smear...
Submitted to Contest #177
Four hours into the two-hour drive between Belleville and exit 137 the ceaseless sound of rubber reverberating against miles of rocky asphalt beat against Robb’s skull. “I think the game is on.” He tuned the radio, through the static hiss until the fluid voice announcer boomed carried him back, riding alongside his father, cheering on the Spartans together.“I’m a Michigan fan,” Aaron said, pulling at the maize M embroidered on his blue hoodie. Every other weekend wasn’t enough time to keep his son from picking up on his mother’s nonsense.“D...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
11 likes
