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
Landing Your Literary Agent
November 22, 2026
How to Self-publish a Bestseller in 2026
September 05, 2026
Apostrophes, Dashes and Colons, Oh My!
August 03, 2026
Reading with a Writer's Eye
July 27, 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 Dec, 2021
Weekly Contest #326
CW: Multiple Themes of Violence I took my scruffy dog down to the bridge on Indian Mound Road to swim in the river. Once he’d cooled off his furry bottom, he trotted with me, back towards the house. Letting the dog back in the house after drying off, I decided to sit out on the porch and stare out over the hazy afternoon sky. Cicadas were buzzing their tune, and the air was still. Kicked back in my chair, I glanced over and saw a young woman running through the field towards my house. I perched up to get a better look. Almost nobody came aro...
Weekly Contest #232
The silver glow of the waning moonlight in her eyes steadily faded with the approaching dawn. Untangling her long, dark hair from the snags and limbs, she pushed past the rhododendron thickets as she climbed the muddy river bank. She could see her breath as she tried to blow warmth into her frigid hands. Slowly, she made her way into the clearing, onto flat soil. The bright daffodil blossoms blanketed the gray, misty landscape. She knelt down on the soggy ground and caressed one of the cheerful yellow petals. The frost on the f...
Weekly Contest #216
I’m generally not a selfish person, but one must understand the unwritten rules of the nook. I made my way up the stairs, each solid oak step creaking beneath my weight. At the top, I was relieved to see that I had it all to myself. I sat my belongings on the live edge table next to some out-of-print literary magazines and cozied up against the edge of my favorite window. Raindrops slowly trickled down one by one outside, gently tapping the tin roof below. The sound of a splashing puddle and spray of water occurred with each passing car. I o...
Weekly Contest #204
{T.W.: Multiple} Kate lifted her groggy head out of the stale whiskey and saliva cesspool. The morning sun rays shined through the wavy leaded glass windows and baked the empty room. The stool in front of the piano was unoccupied, as were all of the other barstools and chairs in the saloon besides her own. The barkeep must have trusted her in good faith not to walk out of there with all of the booze, for he, too, was absent. She managed to pull herself from her barstool, adjusting her gun belt and straightening her lacy, burgundy c...
Weekly Contest #181
Clyde had to hightail it from the railroad camps as quickly as he could. The trouble he caused at Camp Number 3 quickly caught up with him. Clyde decided that the safest thing he could do was head back home to North Cove. Clyde had to head down Pepper Creek in the dark of night and quickly if he could not be detected. He couldn’t walk directly on the Yellow Mountain road for fear of being seen, so he took a less conventional path through the creek itself, wading in its chilly waters and snapping twigs and dodging branches until the land flat...
Weekly Contest #168
Jaybird reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch of Bugler tobacco. He then took out a folded section of yellowed newspaper, tore it into a quarter sheet, plucked out the last of the pouch's contents, gently rolled the tobacco in yesterday's farm foreclosure notices, and rolled a crude cigarette, licking the flap to make it all stick together. A man's land wasn't worth much more than that paper puffed into a hobo's lungs those days. The stationmaster already knew Jaybird would be bumming a dry match for his cigarette, so before Jaybird...
Weekly Contest #164
When Leonard stepped off of the Greyhound bus, he quickly noticed that he was not the only one with sleeve tattoos. College-aged adults, both male and female, had intricate designs woven and webbed up and down their biceps and forearms. He stepped inside a coffee shop unfamiliar to him. It was all unfamiliar to him. He reached in his front pocket and pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill, some of his last money from his commissary account. He plopped the cash on the counter and sullenly yet politely asked for regular black coffee. The large...
Weekly Contest #156
“We dated for four years, Chad.”“I thought we were more like, you know, friends-with-benefits, or whatever.”“For four years, you thought we were just one prolonged casual fling? No strings attached? Jesus that explains a lot. I wish I could go back and see just how shallow you really are. Shallow as a cheap Walmart inflatable kittie pool; the kind toddlers relieve themselves in.”“Bro, don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”“Bro? Bro?? Don’t you bro… Oh, Hell no. Do. Not. Bro. Me. Chad.”“Jeez, relax, woman, I call everyone ‘bro.”“Oh, okay. So...
Weekly Contest #155
Dear Editor, This is America. We have four-way stops here, the way God intended it. Not roundabouts like some kind of Godless European country. You know, the kind of country that’s utterly thankless that we singlehandedly wrestled them away from the Nazis after we mozied on in, fashionably late to the party. The American way. We like to come to a complete stop at an intersection and stare down the other driver straight in the eye like we’re about to quickdraw our six-shooters at high noon, tumbleweed bouncing across the dusty landscape and...
Weekly Contest #143
(CW: Substance abuse, physical violence) Eliza sat on the outcropping and gazed at the flames leaping and dancing among the windswept wooded landscape. She made it this far, and she was not turning back. What brings destruction also brings new life and hope. The dry bones in the valley before her were resurrecting, reforming, dancing, and yearning for life. She would join the dance, but she had to be patient—no second-guessing herself. Just keep looking forward. Her eyes moved up in tandem with the rising smoke. She caught a glimpse ...
Weekly Contest #139
1907 The ground shook, and the burlap bag of seeds flew out of her tiny hands. The seeds scattered around her bare feet as she caught herself mid-fall. For a moment, the earth stood still. No sound of birds. No wind whispering through the ridges. Bewildered, she collected herself. She would have to wait for the mud to dry to collect her seeds again. That, or she could just leave them be. Perhaps those were meant to be planted there anyway. The world didn’t violently rattle for no reason. “Lilly, head back to Camp 2. Tell the chief engine...
Weekly Contest #129
The headlight from the giant locomotive illuminated ominously through the foggy abyss as dusk settled into darkness. The steam billowing out of the valves and the black smoke huffing out of the smokestack only contributed to its abstract, melancholy appearance. The shrill of the airbrakes synchronized with the low-pitch whine of the whistle. The clanging of the bell was the only optimistic percussion that this mechanical beast seemed to produce. The locomotive was grimy and exhausted from its long climb up the mountain, winding through too m...
Weekly Contest #126
Reading over the first draft of grandma’s obit, I noticed some curious ambiguity; “She died in a Morganton Hospital.” The actual name of the institution wasn’t mentioned, as often was the case when I read other obits for ideas: “Martha Evaline Campbell, age 84, of Jonas Ridge, NC, came home to her Lord and savior after a long fight with cancer at Grace Memorial Hospital.” Curious, but not confusing. Grandma spent the last several months at Broughton, the regional psychiatric hospital. This is where you can be involuntarily committed if the s...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
2 likes
