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
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 May, 2022
Weekly Contest #354
His eyes fluttered open and for a brief moment, he forgot who he was. A moment of respite, with neither pain nor anguish. The room was dark and he could just about hear the soft chirping of birds outside the window, searching for food. He turned to look at his alarm clock, which he hadn’t set for months; his body had learned the shape of the silence that came before dawn. A silence that used to be filled by the soft breathing of another person, the rustle of sheets, the warmth of a body that had shared his bed for thirty-two years. All that ...
Weekly Contest #353
The sea had not moved all night.Lucas Linfield sensed it before he opened his eyes, before he pushed himself upright with a groan, before he shuffled across the warped floorboards of his cottage. It was in the air - the wrongness. A silence so complete it felt like a held breath. Even the gulls, those ragged, screaming heralds of dawn, were absent.He sat on the edge of his bed, listening.Nothing.No waves. No wind. No world.Just the faint, rhythmic throb behind his eyes, like a pulse that wasn’t his.He pressed his fingertips to his sternum, t...
Weekly Contest #352
Laura had always known that colours weren’t just something you saw—they were something you felt. Most people looked at a painting and talked about shades and tones. Laura talked about textures, Flavors, temperatures. She didn’t remember the first time she realized she was different; she only remembered the first time she realized other people weren’t like her. She was five, sitting in art class, when she dipped her brush into a pot of bright yellow paint. The moment the bristles touched the paper, she felt it: a warm fizzing on her tongue, l...
Weekly Contest #183
There I was, just standing there when what I wanted to do was forbidden. I was brought up with morals thrust upon me, religion was shoved down my throat not as a spiritual guide but rather a list of 'don'ts' that were drilled into from an early age. My parents were God fearing and that fear controlled them, it permeated their daily lives and as a consequence, me and my sister were brought up with a hundred and ten commandments.So here I was, just standing outside a coffee shop, pumped full of caffeine (coffee was a sin in my upbringing) and ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: