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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

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

Posted in Adults on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 133 stories

“97 Pages” by Matthew Turner

Submitted to Contest #46

It was a secret. It had to be a secret. Every time Jess would tell someone about it she would end up losing the battle against her own apathetic nature. She told no one. No hype. No expectations. Nothing but the work. But now that it was done the bitch would be finding people to give it to. People who wouldn’t just kiss her ass or stroke her ego. Someone who would rip it apart. Find the meat and help her clear out the gristle. She needed someone mean. But not too mean. Being as green as she was she didn’t want to be totaled on her first ambi...

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“About Dreams and Smiles” by Ella Ferreira

Submitted to Contest #46

Her body was shaking. From head to toe, it was like an earthquake was happening in the living room. Her fingers couldn’t take one more word out of her head, and that was just okay cause she didn’t need it anymore. She had finished it. “Looking at the stars” had finally born. Last night was crazy, no understatement here. Going from one wall to another, talking to herself, yelling, murmuring scrambled ideas, Elise was going insane to know how to finish her book. Amelia, the editor, being kind as always, called to remind her about the deadline....

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“WISHED WORDS” by Kendra Gesare

Submitted to Contest #46

              INTRODUCTION  She spins around and gives us a big smile. There’s true happiness in her eyes, she believes she has found her true love and tomorrow makes it official. I should be happy for her but I can’t pull myself to do so.  Since it all feels so wrong. Seated on the bed I watch my friend lifts the edges of her gown as the glistening crystals at the bottom are brought to life under the moonlight sipping through the skylight. ‘’I think am not g...

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“The One Thing...” by Clara Lawrence

Submitted to Contest #46

I set down my pen, looking at the filled notebook before me, the ink smearing across the page because of my known impulse to smear my writing. I turned through the pages of my notebook, filled with my heart and soul. The one and only thing I have been working on for the past three years. Many said that I would never finish, that it was foolish of me to think that I might someday get somewhere with my treasure. That the one thing I really ever cared for was going to end up in the garbage can. But I didn't listen to them, I couldn't. Because ...

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“The Phone Call” by Ken Coomes

Submitted to Contest #46

“Are you going to get a real job now, Johnny? Catherine knows a woman who knows a man looking for another salesman.” “I'm a writer, mom.” “You told me you just finished your book, Johnny. Catherine says Freddy says the job at the insurance company pays really well. Once you have a good number of clients, anyway.” “But mom, . . .” “Listen to me, Johnny. Selling anything pays good money. Except accordion lessons. Remember when you went around the neighborhood trying to sell accordion lessons? That didn't pay well at all.” “I think I remem...

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“Pyrite ” by Kathryn D

Submitted to Contest #46

She could be breathing down my neck, claws dug into my shoulder, a threat close to my heart, ready to rip through. But I wouldn’t stop now.  The glow from my computer screen was the only light in my room, since I’d summoned and welcomed the darkness around me, happy to hide in it as I shamefully wrote and wrote, my nerves tingling with glee as I neared the end.  I clicked and clucked and clattered away, fingers angrily pounding every letter they could find, every word they could remember. They didn’t like when I wrote. They said ...

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“Just. Write.” by Zane Safrit

Submitted to Contest #46

I’m awake. Sorta. Others might take issue. A lawyer might argue “Your honor, my client’s sense of right and wrong...” and then as the judge rolls their eyes “... and as we’ve seen from expert testimony...” A neuro surgeon might debate brain structure and functioning and order more tests from the hospital whose website claims of its ‘world-class care’ reveals its own brain dead copywriter, ad agency and marketing department who approved the website. The lawyer might then use that brain-dead cliche’ as evidence that his/her/non-binary client i...

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“Priorities” by Andre Benjamin

Submitted to Contest #46

Sixteen shots of espresso. Two mental breakdowns. Thirteen missed calls and forty unread messages. All for what?I glance at a manuscript buried under a mound of eraser shavings and bits of toasted almonds—shut up, I know I’m a mess. You don’t have to say it.Sunlight flirts through undusted window curtains, an irritating reminder the night is over. To make it worse, my brain repays my sleepless night with a painful migraine. God, I really don’t want to go to school, but I doubt I have a choice. Maybe I’ll call in a sick day? Take so...

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“Written at Last” by Kate MacDonald

Submitted to Contest #46

So this was it? Three months, hundreds of cups of coffee, thousands of nibbled fingernails, many skipped meals and missed convivial chats with friends later, this was the result? I should feel elated, or at the very least content, shouldn't I? The story that I had wanted to write for two years was now committed to paper, well it was filed in my Docs. Perhaps not as epic sounding but certainly easier, thank you Spellcheck.I had not expected the feeling of panic which was beginning to roil around my stomach, however. Surely it was a good thing...

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“Catharsis” by Joel Miranda

Submitted to Contest #46

“Well, what are you going to do now?” I’ve been getting this question or variations of it for some time now. I made the mistake of telling people that I finished my first novel over the last holiday, and now they all keep wondering the same thing. I struggled with the answer, so more often than not, I just have to give them the same old responses. “Well, I’m looking into getting it published now.” “Checking my options and talking to my agent.” “Might have to find a job until the book sells and takes off, I guess.” Usually, that’s enough. Som...

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“Recycled” by Henry Silvia

Submitted to Contest #46

Ernest clacked away at his typewriter. Settled in, he started his day crafting the ongoing tale of Cecil Barrett. It's not a job if you do what you love, right? “What sort of trouble can we get into today, Cecil?” *** At the risk of burning his eggs, Cecil left the stove to answer the phone in the hallway. Chubs did as all cats must and scurried between Cecil’s pencil-thin legs as he reached for the receiver.  “I’ll go soon enough you little bastard, stop tryna kill me.” Cecil cocked back his plaid moccasin but Chubs vanished before...

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“Twenty Years of Ghosts ” by Gordon Lampman

Submitted to Contest #46

Twenty Years of Ghosts  I am often visited by ghosts. They haunt me. Their visits became much more common over the past twenty years. Sometimes, they visit in my sleep. Sometimes, as I passed through certain areas or smelled a particular odour. Sometimes, they visit because the light of the day was a particular hue. They manifest their faces in my dreams and at other times they present as a feeling in my gut or a heightened emotion. These ghosts started appearing one by one over the past twenty years. They were only visible to me...

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“ THE PUSH” by Prisca Prince

Submitted to Contest #46

Melanie muttered to herself, I don’t know what my problem is, everyday I tell myself, I will write and publish my first novel but fear holds me back. I fear that the world is full of great authors and so I might not get a chance to even be noticed. I enjoy writing, but am scared that other people might not like my stories, quotes, articles, poems, messages except my friends. I am just stocked with this desire to have my novel read worldwide but my problem is fear. Melanie Kings is a gifted writer. Without being told she knows that writing is...

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“My Life As A Taco” by Jannene MacNeil

Submitted to Contest #46

“And who can give me an example of a food from the grains and cereals group?” says Miss Krizinski. There’s a collection of play food from the kindergarten kitchen on the low table beside her. David C and Michelle got to go down to the kindergarten room to pick it up from Mrs. Wilson. That’s all the way out the big doors and down the hall.Kindergarteners are babies. That’s why they have to be in a separate section from the big kids. The closer you are to being a baby, the closer your class area is to the big doors. We’re Grade Twos so we’re l...

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“Ashley Dimango and the Critic” by Sarah Rosenvall

Submitted to Contest #46

She grinned, looking down at the papers in front of her. Three hundred and fifty-two pages total, not counting the title pages, dedication, and author's note. She was known as Ashley Dimango, a fifteen year old female author. At least, that's what her mother called her. Even though she wasn't a "well known author". In fact, the only people who knew about the book where her family and close friends. The book was called The Great London Mystery. It took place in London, England, where Ashley had gone for a trip over the summer. She had enjoyed...

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