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
The Bigger Picture: Writing with a Series in Mind
April 13, 2026
Writing Beyond Your "Brand"
March 16, 2026
What's in a Name? Naming Characters, Places & Titles
February 09, 2026
Previous events
From Book to Screen (And Everything in Between)
February 02, 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 Sep, 2025
Submitted to Contest #329
My toes curled over the edge of the cliff—breath catching in my throat, heart thundering—as I peered through strands of whipping black hair. Below, two mighty rivers glistened in the moonlight, flowing into one. This was the place where life met death. I blinked away tears to study my hands. They appeared paler than their usual light brown. When I wiggled my fingers, ghost-like shadows trailed behind them in the charged atmosphere. In my bed, on another plane, my body slept peacefully. Dreaming was the gateway to the Spirit World. This was...
Submitted to Contest #324
Tamsin squinted against the sparkle of sunlight glinting off the swirling current of the river. Her stomach rumbled as the sun sunk in the sky. Tonight, there would be a feast. The fishermen’s nets had been full this season, and she looked forward to filling her belly with pink-fleshed fish that had been dried in the sun, the heat of summer lingering in every bite. “Tamsin.” Her closest friend, Mika, sat next to her on the riverbank. “There you are. You’ve been gone a while. Your mother sent me to look for you to help with preparations.” H...
Submitted to Contest #319
Water trickled down the curve of a razor-sharp fang, over a blue lip, and into a wiry, green beard, soaking a patch of gray fur beneath. A behemoth, clawed hand reached up to wipe away the next tear that rolled from a yellow eye with a slitted pupil. This was the beast’s nightly ritual—return to hovel (be it cave or abandoned woodland cottage), eat whatever creature he had slaughtered on the day’s journey, weep, then fall into a fitful sleep. Every fortnight or so, however, he broke his routine. On these nights, the beast would creep toward...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
10 likes
