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 Oct, 2020
Submitted to Contest #69
After the three hectic days of all five adult children arriving – with partners and progeny – and moving in, unpacking, and rearranging furniture to “how it used to be”, Mom Richman – Gladys - was exhausted, physically and emotionally, after the verbal battles between her offspring. She sat on the window seat in a bay window overlooking her perfectly manicured rose garden, with the heavy brocade curtains pulled closed, hiding from the ruckus with her G and T. Pop Richman – Albert – would have to deal with today’s kerfuffle. Four sets of gr...
Submitted to Contest #66
A YEAR SHY of turning sixty, Becca realised the cause of her anxiety and misery. Married, with now-adult children she rarely saw – admitting they had job commitments – she’d had plenty of time to think about her misery. And how much she hated her misery. From that realisation after suddenly succumbing to her old friend – the one-in-a-million neurological condition that had laid her low thirteen years before. It had taken six years of medication, rehabilitation and strength exercises, home help and personal carers. Her first hospit...
By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. I was livid. Old Jack knew I’d promised Little Jack he would be there for the bonfire. Hell, he’d worked for it – he’d raked leaves into the yard from beyond the boundary, and helped Old Jack get them piled up into the biggest leaf pile we’d ever seen. And Old Jack and I had promised him. He’d said nothing to indicate Little Jack would miss the fun. And, at only eight, having not seen the Autumnal leaf burn for three years, it was to be his best gift ever, since his horrific accid...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: