🎉 Our next novel writing master class starts in –! Claim your spot →
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 Nov, 2022
Arabella Reeves (bass)‘Don’t tell Matt I smoke?’ I gestured vaguely to Libby as we sat on the steps of her trailer. ‘I don’t think Matty will care to be frank with you.’ She shrugged in her no cares kind of way. ‘No he will, he doesn’t even like it when I drink,’ I shook my head adamantly. ‘Alright ‘Bella say no more, my lips are sealed.’ Libby laughed at me. I could always tell when Libby was laughing at me as opposed to with me. ‘Don’t act superior Libby it’s not a good look on you.’ I exhaled into the starry sky above ...
t-minus fourteen hours and twenty-one minutes. I’d seen the girl before. One could go as far as describing me as a regular observer of her life – not in a creepy way though. She sat across from me on the subway this morning and it made me painfully aware of how I’d almost missed the train. She was always immaculately put together; I hadn’t had time to find matching socks. She had expensive Airpod Maxes in seafoam green which didn’t make her head look like a marshmallow sandwich. I tugged at the wire of my earbuds and twisted it tighter int...
Jasper was above average for his age. Above average height - standing at a gangly and awkward 6 foot 5 inches. Above average intelligence – his eyes skittered about taking everything into his brain for his almost perfect memory to sort and file. And, in his opinion, he had above average responsibility on his only just full-grown shoulders. He was towing Cobie through a part of town they didn’t traverse much, and this was cause enough to be wary of one’s surroundings. In the grand scheme of his comparatively short-lived life, he felt he had i...
Submitted to Contest #197
“The great god Pan is dead!” That was the cry that first fed the lie to Cleo. The fearful lie that brought with it the fallacy in the nature of impossibility that was suddenly shattered. If the great god Pan could die then surely she herself could die. The granted gift of immortality felt like it had been ripped from her fingers. Death was a lottery that she had never entered, it had never occurred to her that her name could be in the bowl too. Could a god really die? Cleo, bathed in flower petals in a bath drawn for her, debated that ques...
fourth year, suffering dm, writer who thinks she's god
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: