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 Oct, 2022
Submitted to Contest #329
“It was a dark and stormy night.”The class groaned in one, long voice – a chorus of complainers who had painstakingly practiced for years.“I haven’t even gotten to the story yet!” The teacher at the front of the room set the book down on the nearest desk. As if embarrassed, the pages fanned away from the heckled text.“Yeah, but it wasn’t gonna be a good one,” a student said.“We said we wanted a scary story, Mr. C.!”Mr. C. crossed his arms. While at school, it seemed as if annoyance lived on his face, and this conversation wasn’t helping it m...
Submitted to Contest #169
Shadows moved with the sun. There was no shadow without light–a natural balance the world set in motion eons ago–and everything: all people, places, creatures, and things, could cast one with ease. Lucy Whitlock had two. Her original shadow behaved as a shadow should. It moved like hands on a clock around her body, lengthening in the legs to an awkward degree when the sun was at a certain angle and shrinking as the light sank lower in the sky. Her second shadow–one Lucy earned when she was six years old–stayed fixed, roo...
Shortlisted for Contest #169 ⭐️
I.From the Journal of Ambrose Sykes, Aspiring Writer & PoetThe Curious Case of Storms in Graveyards – 1849The graveyard blazes to life in a brief flash of white light, and all at once, the lightning seems to inhabit every space–each imperfection on the silent sentinels keeping watch over the dead. Angelic faces weep. Crosses burn in the heat of it. It is chaos in an instant and no more. When it dies, darkness returns. Layers of the blackest ink spilled–spread across the dotted cemetery, fleeing the long, annoyed groan of thunder as it mu...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
8 likes
