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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#161: Digging Deep

Released to much critical acclaim, Jennette McCurdy’s recent memoir I’m Glad My Mom Died is one of the most talked-about books of the summer (and potentially the year), not least because of its provocative title. But behind the clickbait-y headline, the book is a masterclass in memoir writing — digging deep into McCurdy’s life and deftly handling sensitive material, including her time as a child actress and an abusive childhood.

This week’s prompts are inspired by some of the themes in McCurdy’s memoir — the pressure of stardom at a young age, finally speaking one's truth, and starting a process of healing — encouraging you to explore the complex and often gritty nature of human relationships and emotions.

This week's prompts

Start your story with someone sharing a secret that has a big impact on everyone.

High School – 39 stories

Write a story where someone finds comfort in an unexpected event, place, or person.

Adults – 56 stories

Write about a character who lives a seemingly charmed life.

Teens – 25 stories

Write a story where a character has to take on heavy responsibilities (perhaps beyond their age).

Kids – 48 stories

Write about someone who needs to face their past in order to move forward.

Adults – 73 stories

Stories

“Three Minutes Until the Conclusion” by Curtis Jackson

Submitted to Contest #161

Advisory: the following short story contains descriptions of violence, scariness, and thematic issues.The success of his lecture was pictured in their eyes. The people fixated upon him and their ears' reception of each sound wave of his words. The speech of famed scientist-environmentalist Terrance Secreto held his audience's attention. In his heart, the drums rolled after a quick glance at his pocket watch; 6:56 p.m., almost three minutes until his conclusion.For over 50 minutes, Secreto updated his listeners about the advanced alarms of cl...

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“Not As Advertised ” by Troy Chavez

Submitted to Contest #161

As I, Martin Hernandez, look up from my morning-after shower… I see a spider (daddy long legs) spinning an ant in its web. The morning-after wasn’t rough, it was horrifically whimsical. Like getting beautifully drunk, but spending the night with a ghost everyone can see, hear, and fear. I met Shelly online: Tinder. But I was spun in like that ant on the web. Her pictures showed a vibrant and smiling girl. Skin and makeup doused in beauty, and her dress sunnier then El Sol. I was lonely and so was she. I rolled the dice. Nowad...

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“IT'S AN AGE THING” by Brian Bywater

Submitted to Contest #161

IT”S AN AGE THING 7pm August 13th 2022 Mission Beach State School Have I forgotten anything I ask myself, for the umpteenth time? Umpteenth, how many is that? Does it really matter? I just wish I could stop shaking. “Poachie, time to get the night started. You are on!” I hear Penny’s voice coming from up on the stage. If I have forgotten something, it is too late. I already regret being here. I could not have a sound check done before tonight. A compere’s worst nightmare is sound breakdown. I climb the short stairs to the stage. Why...

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“It’s All Gray Now” by Will Lianti

Submitted to Contest #161

It was a cold morning outside his cabin that nestled between the pines and the snow. The glow of the wood stove lit up the dim room while it heated the coffee and baked beans atop it. Both the beans and the coffee had a little bit of sugar added to them to get him through the day. It was everything he ever wanted; the boards beneath his feet, the wind through the trees, the smell of cedar and smoke. The right man could live a very happy life here, all alone in the northern wilderness. He thought back to when he was m...

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“Night Terror” by Nick Doutney

Submitted to Contest #161

1 John woke up, turned over and looked at the clock beside him. 2:06 am. He sat up in a groggy daze and stretched his arms. He caressed the lump on the side of his head which felt like a hornets bite. The room around him was vibrating as he slipped into his jeans and pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head. He blinked and was then standing in the kitchen. The linoleum floor was cold on his bare feet. He blinked again and found that he was now sitting on the floor with his muddy sneakers on. He tied the laces, got up, and wal...

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“Lucky Charms” by Julia Genord

Submitted to Contest #161

One foot in front of the other. I stepped carefully on the scratched linoleum that spanned for miles ahead. The shelves on either side of me towered like cliffs. The items they held seemed to only exist above my head, only available for the people at the top. I’d been stuck in the gorge below them since I was born and I had never learned how to climb. I leaned against the handlebars of the cart I was pushing, absorbing its stability. The squeaky wheel screamed as we traveled forward, seeming to imitate the monologue in my head....

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“Peace in Passing” by J.J Park

Submitted to Contest #161

The corpse laid about ten feet away from Remy, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. The line of people waiting to greet him and his mother with their potentially genuine condolences were stretched outside of the door and lingered down the hallway. He noticed how most of the people were pleasantly chatting while exchanging smiles and muffled giggles just before approaching the altar and then suddenly donned their impressive looks of despair. They would bend down to his eye-level, making it feel like they were trying to...

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“The Stone” by Urooj Aslam

Submitted to Contest #161

Birds and their beautiful chirping. The whispers of the light breeze. The silence of the tall trees. And among them stands a mystic stone. It can’t be called a monument as nothing seems written on it. It’s just a stone. A rock perhaps. Amid a beautiful forest on the Margalla hills of Islamabad. People usually use the track for hiking which runs alongside the stone. Often being ignored by the hikers. Yet to Mia, this stone has always fascinated her. Nature itself has a soothing effect on the soul. This place holds something extraordinary. ...

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“Life and Lemons” by Amy Ingram

Submitted to Contest #161

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” -Modern proverbial phrase.I should not have been using a paper bag for the lemons I was picking, after the morning's deluge. They were irresistible; large, plump, and waxy, an outrageous shade of yellow, like little suns peeping through the green foliage. I picked too many, and inevitably the dampened paper gave way, sending lemons tumbling over the lawn. Just then Sophie came around the corner of the house, and she knelt and helped me gather them up and place them in a pile on the step.‘I’m ready...

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“Sojourner and Bafook” by Mike Irving

Submitted to Contest #161

David Tuck Sixlegs looked over the gathered mass of his fellow silverfish with carefully hidden trepidation. His stomachs bumped against one another with their nervous fluttering. There had never been so many together in the open before, so exposed. His gaze kept flashing to the nearest places of safety – the cracks and gaps, along corners, beneath objects. Everyone else seemed to have left their furtive fear behind, protected by prophecy, by David’s presence. He was not so certain. Still, his people’s jubilance was infectious, and he allowe...

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“The golden child” by Martha Brown

Submitted to Contest #161

Sometimes I punch holes in the walls. Or rather, in the wall - singular. One wall curves around in a perfect circle, with no beginning or end. The eternal nature of it is reminiscent of my own life. It's cathartic to rip into the wall with my fist, causing damage to both. The surface is plaster and paint, but if you force your hand through all the sponge and insulation, your fist grates against the hard brick beyond. Mother says I am delicate, but she would say that because she never sees me punching walls. She looks at my apron smeared...

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“Heart of Glass” by Felicia Ogunnowo

Submitted to Contest #161

Out with the old and in with the new. That’s what everyone always says. That’s what they might expect you to always say too. Expectations are nothing more than what people’s standards of what or who you should be. You end up doing and liking things based on what they do or like, until it becomes a bare necessity, like how you crave for water or air. You have to get used to early morning caramel creme lattes with pumpkin spice, even though the scent makes you sneeze, because your best friend, Ione, adores them. Every mornin...

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“Falling snow” by Dean Wathen

Submitted to Contest #161

Have you ever noticed how when snow falls it seems like everything around you is deafeningly quiet? Like the whole world slows down and there’s no sound. You can’t hear your breathing, or your heart beat. It has a sense of beauty around it really, how soft and delicate each and every snowflake is, yet it’s ice cold. As I was flying through the air my body felt weightless, and my hair was floating as if I were under water. Completely helpless I was. The front end of my truck nosediving into the culvert head on. My phone levitating in the cab ...

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“The Hospital” by Zoë Ricard

Submitted to Contest #161

Some time ago, Julie’s mum put a clipping from the New Yorker on her kitchen wall. It was a man answering the door to Death, and the caption read 'Just as I was getting my life together.’ Julie feels that more right now than at any other time in her life. This has to be some sort of sick joke. How is it possible that her mum, who had fought so hard to live for the past couple of years and had made it quite literally through hell – finally coming out on the other side stronger and more self-assured than ever – could be felled by a disease she...

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“Young girl, you'll be an excellent mother” by Marysa Stevens

Submitted to Contest #161

Sensitive warnings// forced birth, teen pregnancy, abortion, teen sexual activity, rape “Honey, help me move this against the window.” I lift one side of the white metal crib and scoot it to my left, waiting for her to do the same on her end. “Won’t it be cold here?” She asks. “The windows are well-insulated, and the flannel jammies are cozy. He’ll be okay.” “What else do we have to do? I wanna meet Emma at the movies at three.” “The onesies are in the dryer; they’ll need to be folded and tucked away in the dresser. We need more free...

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$250

Prize money

241

Contest entries

125

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 02, 2022 EST

Won by Marty B 🏆

Title: Long Distance Phone Call

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

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