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
Live Editing #4 with Noah Charney
January 26, 2026
Previous events
Raising the Stakes: Build Tension on Every Page
January 19, 2026
Level Up Your Writing in 2026
January 18, 2026
First Impressions: Rocking the First Line and Paragraph
January 12, 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 Aug, 2019
Submitted to Contest #22
Slowly, the winter sun fell across hazed skies, sombre winds turning, thrumming as hale clouds rose. Arie, still, lay by ingleside as last sun of year dusked, her mind fleeing from wordings of aired docudrama, acrid smells of wall paints and distant liquor, fading quietly into own thoughts. Dulce was a town beautiful only in arie's thoughts, the small, crooked chapel remembered as one of high skill design, the failing orchid fields remembered only as was on days of full bloom, the ofttimes severe sun remembered as good, cheerful and kin...
Submitted to Contest #7
Raged. The ofttimes silent sea threw its many berserk waves against the mammoth timbered ship, roaring as though an untuned choir. Moon was silenced, clouds staged a coup. The enslaved multitude swayed side to side bellowing chants of appeasement to Yemoja - goddess of the many seas. "Yemoja ooo, Alagbara... " they yelled. Sea fell quiet, Yemoja seemed pleased. The bestormed seas rose many heights hoisting the troubled ship soon smashed against a souless, arched islet. Land was mashy moist. Half buried by the umber sand, Ola, a child captive...
Submitted to Contest #5
"Choo, choo", the long awaited spry blue diesel train brushed menacingly against the weeping tracks as it came to a halt. Tightly clutched to the blood inked Chanel 2.55 garnet bag anchored on the crook of her arm, Sloan hurried through the aghast horde of people, as she headed towards the faint hued entryway. Disquieted, she gazed through the square casement with her quivering fingers partly shielding her panicked look, watching as the ticketers placed side by side on the cemented floors the fatally scarred bodies of two middle aged men - h...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: