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, 2025
“If the world is a dream, who is the dreamer?” Seneca sat at the edge of the sandbox on the playground behind the healthcare center. Her long white hair had been dyed black, but her red eyes still caught the light.The weekly session with the child psychologist was over. For now, it was just the wind, the sand, and the soft clink of plastic toys. Her mother was sipping coffee on a nearby wooden bench, speaking with Haruki's mother, who had only just moved to the town.Seneca watched the boy.Haruki knelt in the sand, fully absorbed in his game....
CLERK (MIRIAM):All right now, this emergency session of the Lanton Ridge Town Council is hereby opened at 9:14 PM, January 5th.Topic on file: “Unusual disturbance beneath residential property at 23 Grover Lane.”In attendance: Mayor Tiernan, Sheriff Harrow, Father Ríos, and Council Members Roth, Winters, Colt, and property owner Adler.Proceeding recorded by myself, Miriam Jensen, Council Clerk.MAYOR TIERNAN:Thank you, Miriam. Let’s keep it respectful tonight. We’re not here to panic, just to understand and decide.Mr. Adler, since this began o...
Caleb: You made it.Naomi: Barely. Boston’s snowing like it wants to prove something. How’s he doing?Caleb: Same. Machines say he’s still here.Naomi: He always was stubborn.Caleb: You hungry? Cafeteria’s still pretending it’s food.Naomi: I’m fine. How was the drive?Caleb: Muddy. Tractor flipped near Miller’s Bend. Usual mess.Naomi: You still live five minutes from nowhere.Caleb: And you flew three hours to get here. Guess that makes us even.Naomi: Let’s walk to Micah’s room. I want to see him.Naomi: How are Mary and the kids?Caleb: Mary’s goo...
Afternoons always began with bread.Steam rising from the loaves as Sera watched her mother wrap them in cloth. Outside, the sunlight came through the greenhouse glass in soft green patches. Her brother, Lio, was out with the goats and the dogs behind the hills since morning. He’d forgotten his shoes again.Sera carried the warm bread up the path to Grandmother’s house. It sat in a basin beyond the last ridge, sheltered under a canopy of trees so thick no drone could see it from above. The house was the oldest around—square stone walls, round ...
Submitted to Contest #335
The star within the Dyson sphere was small—a red dwarf, steady and dim, but still, it burned. And the structure that held it, turning slowly in the dark, was vast beyond reason. Layer upon layer of framework, circling inward, held fast by gravity and velocity both. From core to skin, it was dense with tiers—thousands upon thousands stacked one atop the next, the inner shell insulated and alive, the outer shell cold and dead, like bark shielding sap.From the outside, no light escaped—only faint golden veins, like fractures in obsidian, where ...
Submitted to Contest #334
The snow fell sideways, carried by a wind that scraped the frost off old stone lions and wrapped itself around broken lamp posts like a lost scarf. She moved through it without sound. Heavy boots crunching over packed snow and old ice. Her cloak—thick, fur-lined, and stitched by hand—dragged at her shoulders as if mourning something. The staff she carried was longer than her arm span, ironwood dark and etched faintly with marks too old to shine. It struck the ground with each step, not for support, but rhythm.Purpose.Beneath the hood, her fa...
Submitted to Contest #333
Day 3 Seneca sat in the dimly lit canteen, her long white hair, now loosely tied back, framed her striking red eyes as she slumped forward in exhaustion. Across from her, Hitori—smaller in frame, younger, with a softness Seneca had long since lost—absently prodded at her plate with a fork, her short purple hair slightly disheveled.The canteen was quiet except for the distant thrum of engines as they cruised back toward Jupiter Station under a constant one ’g’ deceleration. Walking around the deck of the Abysmal felt ‘normal’.Except for the b...
Submitted to Contest #332
Grief, death of a child, emotional neglect, alcohol abuse, and psychological trauma. The Body in the RainHe found her on the roof.She stood barefoot in the rain. Her hospital gown soaked and clinging to her spine. One hand rested on the IV pole beside her. The bag still hung, still dripped. Rain traced the clear tube down into her arm, mixing with the last medication she would ever take.He didn’t move.He wasn’t sure why he had come up here. A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have known to. He was still new, just another resident with too little sl...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
3 likes
