Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

Assemble a team of professionals

The writing app for authors

Writing courses, events and memberships

Get your book reviewed

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Directory
Weekly Prompts Contest
Reedsy Literary Prize
Magazine
FAQ

← All contests

#46 Write It Down

Whether you've been composing stories for years, have a number of published books under your belt, or are just getting started on your craft, if you're here to write — you're a writer.

 

Like our community, our prompts this week are all about writers at different stages. Maybe you'll pick the one that most relates to you at this time, one that provides a retrospective into previous legs of your writing journey, or one that looks ahead to future goals. In any case, we're looking forward to reading your words, writers.

This week's prompts

Write a story about someone experiencing a lightbulb moment of writing inspiration.

– 139 stories

Write a story that takes place in a writer's circle.

– 68 stories

Write a story about an author who has just published a book.

– 88 stories

Write a story about someone returning to their craft after a long hiatus.

– 185 stories

Write a story about someone who has just finished writing their first story/book.

– 131 stories

Stories

We're Not Quitters

Weekly Contest #46

An absolute masterpiece! No question about it. The next New York Times bestseller rested on the table in all its polished perfection beside the torn-open package in which it had been returned. The ink on the three-inch thick manuscript still gave off the same fresh aroma as when I submitted it to the acquisitions editor a little over a week ago. The fancy, cottony fiber of the pages that held these myriads of double-spaced lines shouted Look out, world, here I come! in figurative neon, guaranteeing a new-found career laced with fame, fortune...

22 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The White Canvas

Weekly Contest #46

The silence. The drought. The slipping of passion between the very tips of my fingernails.It was sickening.All the colors were dull to her, a mixture of all grays and browns, a monochromatic scale with horrifying blacks on both ends. She lays in her bed every single night, finding the silver in the swirls of black and blue. It was a never-ending dilemma.Three years. For three long years her days have been a series of monotones, a static line either waiting to jump out or be cut off. Her once prismatic world now reduced to a desperate figment...

21 likes 5 comments 5
Read story

Begin Again

Weekly Contest #46

“You should really start writing again, you were really great.” Abygail popped the bubble she was making with her gum. “Yea, I miss all that crazy talk you used to do.” Sam ran a hand through her curly orangey blonde hair. “Yea and you should go to a real hair salon to get your hair done,” I rolled my eyes, knowing it was one of the many things she wouldn’t do. “I swore off going to hair salons because of a traumatic experience. You on the other hand, have no excuse.” I shook my head again, “I was never cut out to be a writer. I was never go...

21 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

Our Concomitants

Weekly Contest #46

There is something about creating a world on an once blank page. Watching it fill with inked letters, each word dripping with imaginative intentions. This can make it daunting to share with others. It is as if you are choosing to bare your soul to criticism and judgement. There is no guarantee that they will care for the story and the characters as much as you do. Creating a concrete story worthy of telling is not instantaneous, nor is it always an enjoyable experience the entire time. The writer pours passion into every decision and th...

21 likes 6 comments 6
Read story

Shadowing.

Weekly Contest #46

He looked outside the window. The cracked window glass made him sad. The wilting flower on the window sill made him sad.He ran his fingers across his palm, on the bruise that was gone but its memory still there, pressing on it, feeling the phantom pain.He walked back to his desk, dumping himself into the chair, and staring at the pages in front of him listlessly. He pulled the laptop towards himself, waking up the screen and started typing.“She walked in the shadows.”He looked at that sentence for what seemed like a long time for him. “This ...

21 likes 9 comments 9
Read story

My Heroes Have Always Been Writers

Weekly Contest #46

The first pages of a writer aren’t written, they’re read. Good writers are good readers. We learn the craft and beauty of the written word by being spirited away in our imagination by storytellers and troubadours. They lie to us and beguile us, enchant us with the rhythm and cadence of phrasing and seduce us with the crisp crackle or mellifluous melt of words in our mouth or soft, dulcet, alliterative tones in our ear. Good writers are magicians who surprise us, acrobats who astound us, monsters who keep us awake at night, bullies who make u...

21 likes 7 comments 7
Read story

Budding Embers

Weekly Contest #46

Johnny is a tough guy. But he’s also an aspiring writer of sorts. I’ve heard the two don’t usually mix—toughness and writers. But somehow, he makes it work. He’ll jot down poems whenever a bolt of inspiration strikes his shaved head. A tragic event is almost always the catalyst to his art, always has been. And in our lives, tragedy was a tenant that didn’t pay rent. Johnny has always been my compass for right and wrong, since Papa worked two jobs and was drunk most of the time he wasn’t working. Momma ...

21 likes 5 comments 5
Read story

Not Your Typical Book on Necromancy

Weekly Contest #46

  “And stay out!” The glistening golden-white doors slammed shut with a melodic choir of singing angels. A soft puff of holy energy tickled Detholian under the nose and made him sneeze. Then, the door suddenly opened again, and out came flying a bound stack of parchment. “And keep your foul bundle of horror!” The parchment landed in the dirt and the door slammed shut again. Detholian sneezed once more.  “Yeah, yeah,” the necromancer sniffed. “I don’t like the smell of you either!” He picked up his manuscript and dusted it off. “Don...

20 likes 12 comments 12
Read story

Paper and Pen

Weekly Contest #46

I sit at the desk. Wait. Check the clock. Wait. Sip my coffee. Wait. Hear the dinner bell. Wait. Read business papers. Wait. Sip my coffee again. Wait. Check the clock again. Wait. Click my pen. Wait. Read my old stories. Wait. I am stuck, looped, cursed to go through this abominable feeling forever and longer. And, of course, now the words flow. Now that they are of no use to me. They flow, they barrel, they stream through my mind and out of my mouth. "Such a shitty situation, shouldn't have accepted the deadline, need to come up with s...

20 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

The stories we tell

Weekly Contest #46

"Don't worry, you'll probably very soon adapt it in a movie i mean, i read it and you know i am not the reading type!!" "I know, but..." i sight heavily and scratch my wrist "No buts, its a great book you'll see !! Believe in your talent for once" Mel says from the other side of the line i know she is frustrated I am sure she rolled her eyes while saying that , she must be fed up with my fears and my behavior. "Sorry... i always bother you with my doubts." I say looking the wooden floor of my flat " what are friends for? Plus you are my s...

20 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

Read, See

Weekly Contest #46

“When you kill someone, their remaining lifespan is added to yours” Well yes, that’s interesting, but I don’t know if I’m creative enough to do that justice… “Your landlord is a vampire, so he offers you a deal” Now that’s a little too creative, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, a romance novel? You know from experience how saturated that market is.  I sighed as my exploits via the Instagram explore page resolved in failure. It’s not like I dreamt of writing some best-selling novel or anything. I just wished I could reign...

20 likes 19 comments 19
Read story

The Returning

Weekly Contest #46

“Well...it’s now or never.” I said aloud pressing the bottom of my retractable gel pen and hearing the click of the tip popping out of the comfort of its home. “I know how you feel bud but this is for the best.” I slowly and carefully wrote in the top left corner of the college ruled paper the date and took my ruler and pencil and made a box enclosing it. I was very meticulous and then titled my head from side to side to see if it was crooked or not. I could hear in the back of my mind a little voice saying, “You’re already procrastinating ...

20 likes 8 comments 8
Read story

And yet we write

Weekly Contest #46

She takes the dirty bandages off the day she is released. There will be scars. That is fine. She will always walk with a limp. That is fine, too. But her broken fingers haven’t mended, and that’s not something she can live with. So she finds an apothecary who owes her a favour and spends the first night of her newfound freedom biting down on a piece of wood, while he breaks her fingers again and sets them properly. “They’ll heal,” says the apothecary, once he has finished with splints and bandages. “But it’ll take time.” “How long?” “Four w...

20 likes 6 comments 6
Read story

Writing in My Sleep

Weekly Contest #46

When I was in graduate school, my professors really kept me studying. I was working on a masters in English, and I didn't want to waste any time. I had two small children, and I was afraid if I spent too much time in school I would miss their growing up. I know that children are with us for just a short time, but I needed to go to graduate school because my family wanted to go overseas. My family needed me to get a good job and a good visa, so I had to have the correct education. My education led to a lot of unusual books, deep thi...

20 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

Words

Weekly Contest #46

My fingers shake as Tom’s words fill my mind. “Why are you doing this to us?” He asks me, his normally soft voice growing harsh. The buzzing from the overhead lights fills my ears as they bleach the color from his skin. Every part of my being wants him to take me in his arms, to soothe me, but his arms are crossed, and his expression is guarded. My eyes plead with him. My palms press together. Tears fill my throat, but I fight them furiously. “I — I…” I try to speak, to explain myself, but the words refuse to come. The words that used to...

20 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

How to Write a Novel

Join Tom Bromley for a writing master class and finish your first draft in 3 months. Learn more →

How to Write a Novel