Advice, insights and news
Free 10-day publishing courses
Free publishing webinars
Free EPUB & PDF typesetting tool
Launch your book in style
Assemble a team of pros
A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2020
“Plant the snake eggs, slave” Molly demands. She makes a whipping motion at me, along with the sound effect with her mouth. “This fucking kid, I swear to God,” I murmur to myself as I bury my tennis balls in the backyard. Now I can’t play tennis because my crazy little niece thinks they’re eggs that will hatch into snakes to do her bidding. As I smooth out the dirt over my tennis balls with my shovel, she rubs her...
He charges $200 an hour. I give him the cash upfront. “What’s your pleasure?” he asks in his Spanish accent. I expect him to present himself in a more sensual manner, to really try for my money, but no. He was as overused as a felt doll. I realize at this moment that cats of his profession didn’t need to “try.” He is the prettiest hunk of feline I’d ever met, and he just needs to not say no. I tell him I w...
“Jarek, can I tell you a secret?” asked Sally, the talking shrubbery. “You can ask me anything,” said Jarek, dreamingly. “I like your friend, Beckett. Like, like-like.” “Beckett? He’s not my friend. He’s an asshole. Everyone in school thinks so.” “Really? I’ve only seen him be nice to you. Plus, he’s really pretty. I so want to get to know him.” Jarek was silent, seemingly to reflect f...
I’m sorry, y’all, I’ve failed as a writer. I haven’t submitted a story to Reedsy since December. I wanted to end my drought this week and write a story about someone trying to do something knowing that they’ll fail, but I’ve been so busy lately. I’ve recently been promoted to team lead at KTP (Kill Them Puppies). It’s a company where we kill puppies. I spent seven years stabbing puppies, from 3PM to midnight. They would ...
—an exploding key? What a terrible thing to invent. He lied on his side, in shock and in pain, and curled into a little ball. Just then, he stood there, staring at nothing in particular. Perhaps he heard something in the background, something so close to being recognizable that he needed to stop the figure out where he heard it before. Or maybe there was something about the color of the corridor in which...
“Grandma, do you know where Mommy and Daddy is?” asked Susie over chocolate-chip pancakes. It was after 8 pm, when usually her younger brother, Noah, and her are watching cartoons together on the living room floor of their home. But this time, Grandma picked up Susie from school instead of their mother. At Grandma’s house, they get to eat pancakes or cereal for dinner, which Noah enjoyed without much else going through h...
How dare you keep this from me? Because she asked you to? Because you both knew how I’d react? Can you really see into my dreams, where I’m twenty-five again, back home where the octagonal cage surrounds me? I tackle Ryan to the mat. I cling to his back to keep him from standing. My arm folds and tenses around his jaw; his screams muzzled, but the cameraman zooms in on his eyes jumping out of his skull. My shoulder pulls...
“It was raw, and visceral, like…KREEEEEEAAAAOOOOOOOOOORRRRRLLL—something like that.” “What was it?” “I don’t know. Some wolf-bat creature, maybe. It was hairy, with large fangs, and giant claws, and huge bat wings under its arms. I…thiiink it wore black dress pants because its lower half was darker. I could’ve swore I saw a belt buckle.” “Uh-huh.” “I could b...
tw: violent contentLouis the Man could not have possibly stood more still or been more quiet inside of her closet if he were to have turned into stone. He watched, with the patience of a saint, as Cynthia the Woman tossed and turned, the bedsheets over her body flowing like restless ocean waves. He watched, through the crack in her ajar bi-ford closet door, as her body began to calm until it stopped moving entirely. He watched even still until her breath settle into a little snore, when the night drifted her away int...
Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are expensive emerald jewels once lost underground somewhere in Zambia, purchased in an auction by your great-great-great-great-great grandfather and are now family heirlooms? I should warn you that archeologists might try to steal them while you sleep, so their many prisms can be studied until all the wonder is lost. And have you thought about when you let your hai...
I’m going to get brutalized for this. Everyone knows the mob gave one of their main men, Carey, the nickname “Cat” because he loves cats, big and small. His big cats make it fun for him to hunt down anyone that wronged him, including their families. Lucky for me, I have no family, no car, and I’m a long way from home. But I did pickpocket Carey the Cat tonight, in the restroom ...
TW: self harm, gore, murder Mary decided to chop off her hand today. She ignored the voice in her head for months. That voice that told her to toss her inhibition in the garbage disposal and flip the switch. Cut your hand off. A tear dropped from her eye. She’ll miss her hand. It kept her balanced during high school gymnastics. It carried her wedding ring during her first marriage. It lifted her baby in the air that one day when the spring sun stood beh...
Stephanie heard the distant sound of angry voices gradually growing. Worried, she walked into the kitchen to check on her husband. “So…” she began with a hint of precaution in her tone, “you seem to be really fond of that baby ogre, huh? I didn’t know you had time to buy it little baby clothes.” “We went shopping yesterday, babe,...
December 25th: Jonathan is the most beautiful nephew I could ask for. I would give him the world if I could, but that would make my little brother, Harry Oliver, more jealous of me than he already is. But that’s okay. I already know Jonathan would rather live with me than with his bumbling parents. And the most wonderful part about Christmas is that I can reinf...
Dolores’s shoulder rubs always relaxed me. I would breathe in the sweet, musty scent of her bedroom like it was fresh air, and gaze with dreary eyes at the ray of light between the piss-colored curtains of her dusty window. It was a warm Tuesday afternoon, even though her thermostat was turned low enough to require a sweater while in her house. But I loved Dolores’s sweaters. Her drawers...
I wield nunchucks during bouts of writer's block.
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: