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 Long Haul: How to Build a Writing Career That Lasts
September 21, 2026
Better Villains, Stronger Stories
September 28, 2026
Live Query Letter Editing
October 05, 2026
Write Stunning Sentences
October 26, 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 Apr, 2025
Weekly Contest #305
I stared at the crowd and told the biggest lie of my life.They looked back at me with hope. Cameras flashed. A banner behind me read, “Welcome Home, Hero.” I stood on the stage of the small-town high school gym, suddenly wishing I were anywhere else—combat zone included.They thought I’d saved my platoon. That I had charged into enemy fire, pulled three wounded men from the line, and secured the perimeter single-handedly while wounded myself.None of that happened.What really happened was chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos. We were ambushed. I froz...
It took a few seconds to realize I was utterly and completely lost. Not in a desert. Not in the wilderness. Not even in a sketchy part of town.No, I was lost in a SuperMegaMart.It started innocently enough. I came in to buy a lightbulb. One lightbulb. A single, solitary 60-watt soft white. But as soon as I stepped inside, the universe cracked open and swallowed me whole.The automatic doors whooshed behind me like the jaws of fate. The cold blast of industrial air conditioning hit me square in the face, and then came the lights—blinding rows ...
The office smelled like burnt coffee and broken promises. Jenna sat at her desk, posture perfect but heart rotting. Another email pinged into her inbox. The fifth "urgent" request before 9 a.m., sent by a manager who hadn’t looked her in the eye in over two years. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard like a pianist about to perform, except this wasn’t music. It was the slow erosion of her soul by keystroke.She looked around the open-plan graveyard. The gray carpet sucked the color from everything. Artificial plants stood like fake smiles, ...
Weekly Contest #300
They told you not to look down. But in Zephria, the sky was down. Sky above, sky below. Between them, an impossible collection of drifting islands, each hiding something it refused to explain. The bridges connecting them—weathered rope and bonewood—twisted with mossy tendrils and strange feathers that blinked if you stared too long.Talla gripped the wind-skiff's levers, adjusting swiftly as manta-hide wings caught the relentless gale. Her instruments jittered. The altimeter spun erratically. The barometer had been stuck on Imminent Collapse ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
5 likes
