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
Publishing in Audio: What You Need to Know in 2026
February 10, 2026
What's in a Name? Naming Characters, Places & Titles
February 09, 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, 2020
Submitted to Contest #339
Issac Hale was twelve years old when he learned that smells could lie.Lavender meant calm. Rosemary meant protection. Chamomile meant sleep. That was what his grandfather always said, at least. But Issac had learned that scents could hide things just as easily as they revealed them.He lived with his grandfather, Frank Hale, in Evergreen, a small mountain town thirty minutes outside Denver. Their house sat miles from the main road, wrapped in pine trees that creaked in the wind like they were whispering to one another. The town itself was q...
Submitted to Contest #337
Mist clung to Whisperwind Isle like a living veil, thick and glimmering with silver light, curling around cliffs, winding through forests, and pooling in the shallow rivers. Every leaf trembled under the weight of the fog, every ripple of water whispered unease, and the air itself seemed to hum with warning. Elowen crouched low on the mossy forest floor, fingertips pressing into the pulsing roots beneath her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she forced herself to listen to the rhythm of the island—the subtle heartbeat of life beneath the...
“You are smart. You are strong. And you are wonderfully made.” Amelia whispers the words to her reflection, gripping the edge of the car’s rearview mirror like it’s a lifeline. The words feel heavier than they should, like a shield she’s forcing onto herself. She closes the mirror and inhales slowly, deliberately, willing her chest to rise and fall evenly. Her hands shake slightly. She’s been preparing for this moment for ten years, and yet now, as she sits in the quiet of her car, it feels impossible. Her gaze drifts. And her stomach drops....
Submitted to Contest #335
Samantha was a forty‑one‑year‑old career woman, a loving wife, and the mother of six children. Her two oldest daughters, Sarah and Caitlyn, were born while she and her husband, Jeremiah, were still in college. But almost sixteen years ago, their lives shattered when the girls were kidnapped during a carjacking. Sarah was eight. Caitlyn was five.The trauma nearly destroyed them.For five years, Samantha and Jeremiah searched relentlessly, chasing leads, clinging to hope, and reliving the pain every single day—until they made the heartbreaking ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: