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
Book Proposals, Demystified
April 07, 2026
Creating Fantasy Systems for Your Book and Series
March 30, 2026
Live Editing #6 with Noah Charney
March 23, 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, 2024
Weekly Contest #319
“This is all my fault.” When I woke up, the words rang in my ears. I knew I needed to stop talking to myself this way, but it was harder to put that into practice than my therapist made it sound. The glow-in-the-dark stars glued to my ceiling dimmed as the sunrise peeked through the white vinyl blinds. I should have closed the curtains entirely instead of lazily pulling them halfway shut from my bed. Moving the bed against the wall gave me more space, but it did not really follow any design style or feng shui. Generally, I had lived in this ...
Weekly Contest #308
Ulrich stepped into the sunlight and scorched his paper skin. The blood inside his ice blue veins, facilely apparent on his gaunt figure, boiled as his insides churned. The gas built up until, abruptly, his limbs blew apart and his torso severalized scattering across the front yard where they continued to burn until all that remained was ash. Nobody was around to witness it. No one else would willingly be up at this hour. As the dust of what once was Ulrich began to dissipate in the wind the sun took a temporary trip behind a cloud. The shad...
Weekly Contest #303
“I have known Greg and Alyssa my whole life.” Chauncey spilled his drink while gesturing wildly towards the bride and groom. “Mostly Greg, but both… Greg is my cousin. His mother is my mother’s mother—I mean sister.” Chauncey apparently had mothers on the mind. It was true that they were cousins on his mother’s side; but they had never been close. People were shocked the normally quiet and reserved Chauncey was speaking at all. However, no one was more surprised than Greg. Chauncey and Greg had not had a positive relationship since the bumpe...
Weekly Contest #301
“Allen, I’m telling you, nothing is going to go wrong. This plan is full proof.” “It’s foolproof.” Allen fought back on procedure instead of substance. “I just don’t want to go to jail man. This is a big risk.” “It’s a big risk but it’s a bigger reward! You know what’s in that Bullseye. You worked there for years.” Marcus confidently replied complimenting each of his thoughts with an appropriate hand gesture. “From what you remember, how tight was security?” “When I was there… not very. But that was three...
Weekly Contest #300
The whistle pierced the summer afternoon disappointing the children and giving Dylan a well-deserved break. His tan skin contrasted with his light green eyes in a way his mother assured him was quite attractive. His brown hair, slicked back with a handful of pool water at regular intervals, fell in front of those eyes in a way his mother constantly tried to prevent by pushing it behind his small ears. This was his first job; and it was one he had always wanted. The status of “lifeguard” was one of the defining achievements of his sixteen yea...
Weekly Contest #299
"Thales, you have to see it to understand. I cannot describe it to you, because I don't understand it." Epithetus begged. Personally, I was never fascinated by parlor tricks. "I have no time for street magicians or actors of any kind." I hoped that would be the end of it. "I need you to see it, Thales. I need you to explain it to me. I have to know if it's real!" An appeal to my special intellect was a powerful lever of persuasion that Epithetus knew he was pulling. I was helpless. "Fine. Where does your m...
Weekly Contest #298
Alan woke up as he often did: confused, preemptively apologetic, and filled with deep and lingering concern. Where am I? A brief scan of his surroundings revealed the normal and expected features of his motel room. He rolled over and checked his watch. It was dead. That was probably for the best. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and the rest of his portly body oozed after them. He checked his sleeveless white undershirt for stains, but it was only a matter of course. He had no other shirt to replace it with. His jeans w...
Weekly Contest #297
“Do you have the time?” The words drifted over me like clouds before a hurricane. My mind was elsewhere. It wouldn’t be long now. As the sweat pooled in the channels etched into my aging mug, and began to overflow, the gentleman tried again. “Excuse me sir, do you have the time?” One drop hit the floor as the train lurched to a halt. A half dozen passengers poured into the car as I stared blankly ahead. How many stops were left? My eyes darted to the map on the adjacent wall as the gentleman, exasperated, tried his luck with a new target. A ...
Weekly Contest #295
Somewhere between 16th and 17th Streets, a young man rides his bicycle at full speed with his headphones on. He listens to the song that has defined his existence the last three mornings; the exhausted, but not tired, themes of unrequited love, ambition, and confidence echo through his soul. Each rotation of the pedals is empowered by the ripples of emotions unresolved from years gone. He is determined, but distracted. Had he not been so enveloped in the song, had he grown tired of it just one hour sooner, he may have survived as we knew him...
Weekly Contest #291
“I’m sorry I’m late. Jeff did what he always does. He spent the last forty minutes of the workday talking about his terrible weekend plans and ended up keeping everyone over. It’s like he doesn’t know that we don’t want to hear it… Anyway, I’m sorry. You look amazing.” Nick sat down across from his beautiful girlfriend Carmen, but only after leaning across the table and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. The French restaurant was decorated with French paintings and French superficial architectural details that made one begin to imagine th...
Weekly Contest #289
The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. The cement walls compliment the folding table and folding chairs. I am handcuffed to the table and I do not know why. There is a man sitting across the table from me. He is staring at me directly, as if he is waiting for me to answer a question I was never asked. How did I get here? My quick glances around the room make me dizzier and dizzier and the man must have noticed my progressively sickening spiral because he asserted: “Seriously, I think you should have some water.” I paused before...
Weekly Contest #287
Marvin meekly meandered up the overgrown stone staircase. The wooden railing running up the center of the stairs, clearly intended for safety, now aged dangerously with splinters jutting out through cracks in worn red paint. The staircase was tall and long. The bushes and trees, who had worked steadily to reclaim the land of their ancestors, obscured all visitors’ view of exactly how high they must climb. But each made the journey just the same. This was the only route to the house of The Oracle.Marvin was sweating. The stairs were tiring, b...
Weekly Contest #286
“Gloria. I feel like you and I really understand each other. So, I am going to be one-hundred percent honest with you. I don’t think I should have come here. I don’t know if it’s really helping me. You know? I’m really struggling to see the point of this whole… experiment.” Logan was really pouring his heart out. Gloria was looking at him blankly. Well, really, she looked pretty annoyed “I just think that whateve...
Weekly Contest #285
Gabriel’s head hurt. He was afraid to open his eyes. It was one of those headaches. When he eventually pried the lids open, he did not like what he saw. He was lying in the middle of a suburban road. It extended in both directions as far as he could see. House after house after house. He did not recognize any of them. Well, that is not entirely accurate. They looked familiar; they reminded him of houses he had seen before. But he had no idea where he was or how he got there. Now that he was paying attention, with his eyes wide open, somethin...
Weekly Contest #284
Dear Marie, This Christmas does not feel the same without you. They probably never will. I know you won’t read this; but I’ve been told writing you a letter, whether or not you read it, will help me process how I feel. I cherished every year we spent together. I remember our very first Christmas. I bought you those cheap earrings, that you only wore once, but swore you loved. You got me those pants, that actually fit me, but were the wrong color. Sometimes I sit and wonder how ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
9 likes
