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
Layer by Layer: How to Edit Your Book
July 19, 2026
Live Editing #9 with Cat Camacho
June 15, 2026
How To Be More Productive as a Writer
June 08, 2026
My Odyssean Journey: Travel Writing
May 25, 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 Jan, 2026
Weekly Contest #353
“If you go into the water, it will take your life. We are cursed to never enter the ocean.” My mother’s words echoed in my mind as I recalled a specific memory. We had been standing on the beach, staring out at the wide, open ocean. Just like I am now. “Why? Why can’t we go into the water?” I remembered my seven-year-old self asking. “Like I said, we are cursed. Over two hundred years ago, one of our ancestors did something despicable and doomed his entire bloodline. A sea witch warned him never to enter the ocean again, or he - and all his ...
Weekly Contest #339
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. I swung my arm toward the sound and smacked the nightstand. In my hazy, half-asleep state, I couldn’t stop the recoil; my arm bounced back and flopped uselessly at my side. I groaned.Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. I forced myself awake, blinking into the darkness of the room. The only light came from the alarm device, its small screen glowing like an accusation. I slapped the button, and the sound cut off instantly. Then I reached for the switch on the wall just above my head. A soft glow spilled out overhead. Like a sunrise...
Weekly Contest #338
“You idiot. What were you thinking?” The voice was harsh and angry, immediately catching Norah’s attention. The sound vibrated through the thick wooden wall beside her. She stopped walking, ears straining to hear more, but the next set of voices grew muffled, as if they had realized their mistake. One of them she recognized instantly - her father, Duke Fernad. She took a few steps forward, then stopped, realizing her heeled shoes clicked against the wooden floor. It was unlady-like to eavesdrop, she knew, but from the sound of her father’s v...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: