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
Level Up Your Writing in 2026
January 18, 2026
Previous events
First Impressions: Rocking the First Line and Paragraph
January 12, 2026
Writing a Bingeable Chapter
January 05, 2026
The Rule of Three
December 29, 2025
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 May, 2025
Submitted to Contest #306
It was wrong to look at someone’s journal. I knew that. Everyone knows that. However, it had been sitting in our lost and found for two months. Every month, I cleaned out the lost and found of the thrift store I worked at, gingerly fingering through each little trinket. There was a pacifier, a keychain with no keys attached, a single earring, and that journal. I threw all of the items in the trash- except the journal- with a forlorn sadness. I have always been the sort of person who believes even the smallest item is a reflection of its owne...
Submitted to Contest #302
“I need you to take this to Grandma.” With that instruction, Mom handed me a yellowed piece of paper, folded up in fourths. I unfolded it. There were stains on the page, maybe of water, or oil. The handwriting was in cursive and, admittedly, I could not read cursive. The words were loopy and even angling my head sideways and squinting didn’t result in them being anything other than squiggles. Mom held the phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder. She talked to a friend as she diced vegetables for dinner on the cutting board. She wa...
“I need you to take this to Grandma.” With that instruction, Mom handed me a yellowed piece of paper, folded up in fourths. I unfolded it. There were stains on the page, maybe of water, or oil. The handwriting was in cursive and, admittedly, I could not read cursive. The words were loopy and even angling my head sideways and squinting didn’t result in them being anything other than squiggles. Mom held the phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder. She talked to a friend as she diced vegetables for dinner on the cutting board. She ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
6 likes
