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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

“Beastly Comforts” by Kimberly Pienkawa

Submitted to Contest #161

Content warning: gore and death The kettle whistled. They were lazy and lounging in bed, sweat-stains left in the sheets. Outside, the leaves rattled and the asphalt oozed the last of September’s heat. “You gonna get it?” Cass said, lifting an eyebrow, unself-conscious ease. The only betrayal: the slight shiver of her sloppily-manicured nails. Hesitantly, Lyre stood up and straightened. She hurried to grab the tea, their little makeshift morning routine. As they sipped, soused in the steam, Cass said, “You think they’...

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“Delivery” by Mandi Jackson

Submitted to Contest #161

Loud fixtures in the stairwell cut shards of awful light into whatever sleep the girl still had in her. They stepped out into the parking lot. Her pajama feet--shoved into snow boots--began to collect sweat, started to itch. Her little brother asked for donuts, and then sneezed. Their mother didn’t answer. She had darted ahead to the snow-covered car, scraping at the ice on the door handle with her key in search of the keyhole. “Careful, guys, it’s icy!” she yelled without looking back, her words filling puffs of visible air in the yellow b...

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“Accidental Hope” by Joseph Manopello

Submitted to Contest #161

Lisa winced as she slowly rose from the floor. She spent the last ten minutes on her hands and knees, scrubbing milk from the carpet. If it had been coffee, or even one of those faux-milk protein drinks, she might have considered leaving it for tomorrow. Milk, however, leaves a telltale odor that’s nearly impossible to eradicate after it sets. Despite her best efforts, she’s sure she’ll smell it when she walks in the house tomorrow. She looked out the window. The late afternoon sun flooded the spacious yard with a pleasant glow. Beautiful ...

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“Holey Hell” by Kevin Alphatooni

Submitted to Contest #161

“Ramirez!” I hissed, “Keep your eyes open!” Ramirez jerked awake and then lazily lifted his head off the butt of his M16A4 rifle. “Sorry Jones,” he said, “It’s just so damn comfy outside.” “Maybe for you. I’m sweating bullets over here.” I bent over and shoved the tip of my collapsible shovel into the hardened, mostly clay, dirt at the bottom of my fighting hole. The humidity had reached a point where the air felt muggy and thick. Sweat soaked my camouflage utilities and seeped into my body armor. Ramirez lay i...

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“Live in Peace” by Megan Franzen

Submitted to Contest #161

“Wow, Angie, you look great.” “Thank you, Scott,” she said with a smile before moving on across the room. She strode slowly over to the bar in the far corner, receiving a flurry of compliments along the journey. With the same, gorgeous grin, she thanked each of them just as she had Scott. She did look great. Probably the best she ever had. Even better than that, though, was how great she felt. At 30 years old, she supposed she hadn’t felt quite this happy since she was a naive child still holding faith in the world’s innocence. That was b...

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“A Mother's Love” by Pene Worth

Submitted to Contest #161

I saw Mother today, across the street. Our street. She looked at me, I am sure she saw me. Her eyes connected to mine before executing a barely discernible flicker to her grandchild at my side. The word ‘Mother’ began to form on my tongue, a ridiculous surge of hope flared hot in my chest. She turned away and walked on as if we did not exist. I think I saw one of those small rises in the corner of her mouth, her semblance of a smile that was not a smile. Resentment and anger pushed deep over the years now rose in a suffocating s...

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“Chainsaw Revival” by Carolyn Brown

Submitted to Contest #161

High-gloss vessels of all sorts and colours were lined up on the windowsill, the narrowest of all the formerly available surfaces, and they baked again each day in the summer sunshine. Shafts of sun traversed the floor and walls in a daily search for something, pausing for long periods to examine the textures and colours of all the objects they could reach. They slipped in slow motion across pots and goblets, some holding shaping tools and random utensils that had collected there. They probed stacks of packaged clay, they l...

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“Button Eyes” by Alec Fernandez

Submitted to Contest #161

Sitting on the highest shelf in Lucy’s room, coated in dust, was Billy. Lonely and forgotten, worn and dirty, He sat. It had been nearly six years since Lucy had taken him on an adventure. He had sat on this shelf for every hour and every minute of those six long years. Waiting, hoping, he sat. Of course, he was a teddy bear, after all, what else could he do? His stuffing was falling out and his threads were hanging. The scars of past rips and tears sewn slowly untangling themselves. His bright red button eye had faded and the other had fall...

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“CSS 102” by Kurtis Leong

Submitted to Contest #161

CSS 102 A boy and his father, two walked down a hallway. A son and his dad, tiny fingers latched onto his loose grip. Innocence and experience, frail expression. Responsibility and burden. At just fifteen years of age, my father became known as "The Researcher" by everybody in the Submokitna. They called him a prodigy, a heaven-sent entity that toyed with medicine and science as if they were nothing more than one plus one, a true god-child. What made him so renowned was his discovery of the Tariksia, an aspect of the world now dubbed in...

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“The Beginning of Writing” by Nicole Noemí Román Bonilla

Submitted to Contest #161

It was 7:45 in the morning, and I was already late for school. I only had fifteen minutes left to arrive, but it always took me around thirty minutes to walk there. The reason why I woke up so late was that my little brother Adrian was in a painful tummy ache all night, and, I was the one taking care of him. Our mom was already passed out on the couch, and I didn’t even want to know what she had for drinks that evening. Not that I ever want to know what she’s always up to when she goes out. I went to bed at 3 in the morning to find healthy...

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“A Dying Rose for the Devil” by Lily (formerly RG Mara) Del

Submitted to Contest #161

“Life is full of shit you don’t want to do, Rosie.” This was my mother’s central credo and self-imposed prison sentence. It was true, of course, but the problem was she made it seem like that was all life could ever be. One dutiful, shitty thing after another with no room for pleasure or creativity. Joy or celebration. Love. To her, life was a cycle of rage and regret, of broken mirror bad luck and big, red devils waiting up ahead at every crossroads. To me, too. For a long, long time. The first day she said she wanted to die was fil...

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“Add a spoon of water to a bucket of oil, mix well and run ” by Leon Moss

Submitted to Contest #161

So. Here I am, 15 years old, sitting at the head of a table which is occupied by 11 men ranging in age from old through elderly and onto tottery old-age. There are also 3 officials from government offices. They are all looking at me and waiting for my answer. They all look nervous, as though there are millions of dollars at stake. Which there are. It’s a strange story and it will make better reading as a fairy-tale than it will in real life. Except for those dollars, of course. I read a lot. I’m at the local library twice a week and on e...

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“Below Zero” by Hope Haggerty

Submitted to Contest #161

The shovel made a sickening thud, as it came into contact with flesh. Daniel gagged at the odor of death and reeled backwards. You'd think he would be used to the smell by now. He covered his mouth and nose with his thick, homespun winter scarf, but nothing could keep out that stench. Damn, but it permeated everything! Maybe you never got used to it, he thought, but then maybe you weren’t supposed to? His father would say that was just his moral compass kicking in, good and strong, as it ought to be. Lately though, he wasn’t sure i...

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“The Unintentional Seed” by Greg Madden

Submitted to Contest #161

I grew up 3 miles west of Muscatine, Iowa. Most people have never heard of Muscatine and have no clue where it's at until they're told it's 200 hundred miles west of Chicago. I never met my grandparents. What little I know is from stories my dad told me. My grandparents, Jesse and Mary Mason, owned a 100-acre farm in the 1930s. Jesse Mason grew up in Harlan, Kentucky, with 3 older brothers. He quit school at 15 to work in the coal mines alongside his brothers and father. Jesse and 2 of his brothers, Bill and John, volunteered for the ...

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“Reloj” by Soledad Alfaro-Allah

Submitted to Contest #161

Reloj “Can you afford that?” The calories, The pounds, The time, The money. The time The money The time The money The time The money The time The time I sit in the train station pew staring at the giant schedule board 4:00 4:30 4:45 Outbound, Uptown. Late, On time Red Green Red Green. Train fair: 3.75 one way. Selena worked over time last week and now Medicaid won’t cover it. Tip out should be at least $10 cash, and that’ll get me...

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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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