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
Live Editing #4 with Noah Charney
January 26, 2026
Previous events
Raising the Stakes: Build Tension on Every Page
January 19, 2026
Level Up Your Writing in 2026
January 18, 2026
First Impressions: Rocking the First Line and Paragraph
January 12, 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 Feb, 2021
Submitted to Contest #84
I open the gilded leather bound notebook, its pages made of beautiful heavy textured handmade paper. Oh I could write thousands of words about the paper I was writing thousands of words on. What would be the point you would think? What's the point of anything when the world has crumbled. Am I being too dramatic? Well ok let's say the world has crumpled - like a ball of paper squeezed in the hands of a child. The world is as small as the living room that I sit in. The world is the couch I rest my potato behind on, while potato chips lay scatt...
Submitted to Contest #82
How is a creator supposed to feel when they are bested by their own creation?The right feeling, the most proper and appropriate feeling of course is one of selfless pride stemming from unconditional love.But at their core, all artists are human.An artist craves recognition and attention.An artist craves to be understood.So what happens when this attention is snatched away from them?What happens when the painting jumps out of the painter's canvas and proceeds to make a painting the likes of which no one has even seen before?The sniveling, gru...
Submitted to Contest #81
He sighs and shakes the can of spray paint vigorously. It is a sheer drop down to the busy highway below, and the suspended rampart he stands on swings madly in the wind. The longer he thinks about it, the longer he would have to think about it. He starts spraying:Spray my brains Spray my soulSpray my heart Across this wallFor life was onceSunshine and goldBut is nowDrudgery and coldMark me love's latest victimJoy drawn, quartered, and soldShe sighs and brings her goggles down over her eyes as the plane begins to make its ascent. It is a cle...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
9 likes
