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
Previous events
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 Apr, 2026
Weekly Contest #354
I slowly sip my gin and tonic, the cool liquid a welcome sensation on this unusually warm Friday evening in April.I’m having drinks with my oldest friends - Caitlin, blonde waves perfectly styled, nursing a glass of cold white wine. Josh, who has come straight from the office, shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Aiden, who always takes joy in ordering the most ridiculous cocktail he can find, drinking a neon blue concoction served in some sort of chemistry flask. And finally, Liana, dressed in one of her long vintage dresses, high-pitched...
Weekly Contest #353
I am eighty-seven years old, and I have lived a very simple but happy life. My wife, Ava, passed away fifteen years ago, and as we had no children, now it’s just me and my rescue dog, Pip. I miss my wife everyday, but I’m an introvert who has always been perfectly content in his own company, so I get by okay.After we got married, Ava and I bought a small cottage in the countryside, which I still live in now. The house itself isn’t much to write home about, but it came with our very own plot of land, surrounded by woods, which we loved. Ava w...
Weekly Contest #352
I was eight years old when I first saw someone die. It was my mother. Despite never smoking, she had been diagnosed with lung cancer just six months earlier, and now I watched as she lay in bed struggling to breathe. The bed was surrounded by my father and four older siblings, all with tears in their eyes. My father had a strange look on his face, an emotion I couldn’t pin down at my young age. Looking back knowing what I know now, that emotion was clearly guilt. The sound of my mother dying has stuck with me after all these years. Her short...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: