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
How To Be More Productive as a Writer
June 08, 2026
My Odyssean Journey: Travel Writing
May 25, 2026
Live Editing #8 with Noah Charney
May 18, 2026
Writing a Memoir Readers Will Love
May 17, 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 Oct, 2020
Weekly Contest #331
She doesn’t remember much about the moments before she was buried in the snow. She remembers how cold her nose had been, and the streaky feeling of tears on her cheeks she’d wiped away. They told her not to weep because it would freeze her skin and make her colder. She remembers when they laid her in her snow grave and put her arms across her chest, and she remembers how blue everything became when they began shoveling in the snow. One after another, the sound of slicing snow echoing in her ears like a bad song. She heard it endlessly. She r...
Weekly Contest #311
Sing! Muse, of a woman who is no woman! Sing to me of a girl who was lost in song and language, whom no one truly knows. Tell me how she - wait, I forget what I meant to say. The golden daughters of Zeus will not tell this story. They cannot, because they could never know the whole of it, and what poet could tell half a story? Lucky that I am no poet. I am a river. I am a border. I am an escape and I am a sentencing. Don’t ask me my name, I couldn’t tell you. But this woman-who-is-no-woman? This girl who was lost in song and language whom no...
Weekly Contest #308
Fires lit the night-dark corridors of the castle, dancing with heart as she walked past. She held a candle of her own, a display of close-burning stars amongst the blue of the fallen night. Her footsteps made shallow sounds against the stone floor. “Princess,” a girl said as she passed, her eyes wide. “Is there something you look for, ma’am?” “Naught but the gardens by night, Miika,” she said, and her candle guttered under her breath. The girl looked positively horrified, casting wide eyes down the corridor behind her. “Princess, I would no...
Weekly Contest #306
content warning: allusions to violence Third day of Spring, 25th YearI’ve begun to hear a song in my head; a lullaby whose tune is known to me, somehow, though the words are foreign. And the voice that sings it, it is a woman’s. It is beautiful and faint, like birdsong taken away by the wind. I know not what to think of it, for I’ve never had a faceless stranger sing into my mind’s ear. I would feel concern if not for her cadence, her soothing melody wrapping a sweet-smelling breeze around me. Gentle she is, like waking a child in the mornin...
Weekly Contest #301
“I was sent to wake up the Sun.” She stared at the figure that stood at the entrance to the temple of obsidian stone. They were hooded in long robes of black, their pale wrinkled face watching her with pinprick eyes that did not see. The temple itself was a rectangular mass of unshadowed black, the pillars and carvings all bleeding together like spilled ink; it spun her eyes to look too closely. Iridescent cracks veined through the obsidian, shimmering in a light she couldn’t find. The guard pointed a long bladed staff at her. “And how do yo...
Winner of Weekly Contest #291 🏆
Dear Raven, What’s your name? My mama doesn’t know, and I asked her to ask your mama, but she said she doesn’t want to go anywhere near your house. I told her that’s mean because she doesn’t know you. None of us do. I’ve only seen you from across the street. You have black hair, and it’s very dark, which is why I call you Raven. If you tell me your real name I will use it. Is black your favorite color? You wear it a lot. I’ve never seen you wear anything but that black dress with the poofy sleeves and lacy collar. Or are you sad because some...
Weekly Contest #215
Trigger warning: mentions of suicide and infant death The world is quiet under night’s dark veil, but nothing could be more silent than my footsteps. It was a trick I’d developed quite expertly over many millennia of passing through whispers and shadows. Stars flickered solemnly above, as if even those distant shining gods knew I was working tonight. I hated the way they watched me, so full of disappointment and disgust. I’d ruined the prospect of a peaceful night already, and I hadn’t even begun. No houses had torches burning still. No ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
22 likes
