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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#216: Show, Don't Tell

As autumn marches on, we once again find ourselves back to work and study, hopefully filled with renewed energy and the desire to write. But before we start typing away, why not revisit some craft fundamentals?

"Show, don't tell," is age-old advice that encourages writers to tell stories through sensory details, actions, and images, rather than exposition. But that’s easier said than done. The best way to incorporate it into your writing is to practice.

With that in mind, you might enjoy our free 10-day email course on Show, Don't Tell, along with this week's prompts, which are inspired by it and invite you to refine this foundational storytelling skill.

This week's prompts

Start your story in a coffee shop without using obvious words to describe it (e.g. barista, coffee cup.)

Narrative – 69 stories

Write a scene in which a character’s behavior or reaction to something is affected by a past experience — without saying what that experience was.

Character – 51 stories

Include dialogue that shows that a character is socially awkward.

Dialogue – 28 stories

Include a scene in your story in which a character's body language conveys their hidden emotions.

Character – 25 stories

Write a story with an open ending that gives readers just enough details to draw their own conclusions.

Narrative – 111 stories

Stories

“It’s Not Rocket Science ” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #216

TW: possible sensitive themes.The shit usually hits the fan an hour or so after the shop has opened. On bad days, before then. On really bad days, it continues after we’ve closed. People keep donating, often bringing boxes they can barely lift themselves, and expecting you to express undying gratitude when you’re desperate to cash up and go home. We’re not saints here, even if we’re expected to be. Sometimes I can’t get the key in the lock because some bright spark has blocked the entrance with donations. They tumble onto the pavement as I t...

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“Widower” by AnneMarie Miles

Submitted to Contest #216

TW: swearing.“’Do you like cheese?’” Bobby asks, incredulously.Kurtis shrugs. “Seems like a valid question to me.”Bobby deadpans.“What? I saw it in a movie,” Kurtis defends.“And how did that go? For the person who asked his date that question?”“I don’t know. I didn’t finish the movie. Fell asleep.” Kurtis shrugs again, taking a sip of his drink.Bobby slaps his hand to the side of his head. “Kurtis, come on, man. I know it’s been a long time since Barb passed – ““Hey, don’t talk about her like that!” Kurtis interjects, elbow to table, finger ...

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“The Mating Habits of the INTJ Female” by Jonathan Page

Submitted to Contest #216

I want to state for the record that it wasn’t love at first sight— we’d been doing the e-mail thing for six months. And it wasn’t the first date. That didn’t seal it either. It was the sexy born yesterday thing that eventually got me.“It’s so good to finally meet you in person,” I said, standing up to greet Aubrey. “Yeah,” Aubrey said.I reached out my arms to say—I’m gonna hug you now. Aubrey remained glued to her corner of the table. So, naturally, I tried to close the distance. After all, we’d been sittin...

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“Mr Bombastic” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #216

I have chronic flatulence. Now, before you peel away giggling at the images that declaration may have produced in your head, let me be perfectly clear. It’s not something to be ridiculed. Throughout my life, it has been an extremely difficult and embarrassing affliction to deal with, limiting my social engagements to almost zero, resulting in many nights spent alone without romance, without friends, and without doubt – longing for companionship. As a child, I was put through so many treatments and studies at the hospital, they mentioned in j...

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“You Can’t Find Me” by Jonathan Page

Submitted to Contest #216

You are called to the Roxy Hotel at 10:13 pm on a moonless Thursday, on reports that Maeve Rhidian has been missing for 5 days. The first thing you should know about me is that I am a New York Times bestselling author of my debut novel, “The Last Check-In.” The second thing you should know about me is that you cannot trust anything I say. The last thing you should know about me is you can’t find me.The last person to see me alive was a Delta stewardess from Italy named Octavia who met me to catch a showing of Django Unchained ...

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“Another Chance” by Ian Gonzales

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #216

“Good morning, Arthur,” I say, as the thick metal door shuts behind me with a ponderous clang. Multiple locks automatically click into place, sounding like a series of gunshots. “How are you today?” “Oh, just peachy, Doc.” The man sitting on the other side of the table shifts in his chair. The links of the manacles he wears—bolted to the scuffed, battered tabletop—jingle and clink. “And you?” “Can’t complain, Arthur. Can’t complain.” I set a folder on the table, careful to keep it out of Arthur’s reach. Then I slip into the seat opposite him...

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“I’m Actually Allergic to Cheese” by Poppy Jackson

Submitted to Contest #216

“I refuse to go to uni without having had my first kiss.” Nell peered into the mirror, pulling that weird face that is compulsory when applying mascara. The topic of her first kiss had already been exhausted two years ago, when everyone else had theirs, but ever the late bloomer, she left for Cardiff University in just over a week and had zero kisses under her belt, let alone a notch on her bedpost. “Why don’t we just go to Coco’s in Maidenhead? There’ll be loads of boys there and if we go with Alisha she can drive us home.” Jess, ...

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“I'm Free” by Rudy Greene

Submitted to Contest #216

I stepped off the ferry to Crete and kissed the ground. I looked around me. All I could see was the azure water and white houses, snaking up the hills. I raised my hands and yelled “I’m free!” Some of the disembarking passengers turned and smiled, some shook their heads. My divorce was final, the kids were off my dime and financially independent and I had quit my job. Thirty years working for the same corporation was enough. The drudgery of doing their accounting year after year had been too much. The board pressured me to find ways to escap...

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“A Journey to belief” by Jutta Hauke Arriola

Submitted to Contest #216

I find it hard to believe that I am loved now. I just can’t accept that it’s true. I’ve lost the belief of anyone being able to love me. My mother? No. My father? No. My brother? No. My boyfriend? No. I don’t feel lovable anymore. No matter how many people show me sorts of affection. “Nat? Did you hear me? I love you” He’s staring at me, his tough hands resting on my shoulders, as if attempting to pull me together, waiting for a response to sliver out of my mouth. Waiting for an “I love you too”. But I’m slipping out of reality. Slipping i...

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“First Sip” by Anthony Carello

Submitted to Contest #216

The rotten, putrid smells of roasted arabica beans invade my nose without my consent. Attitude-laden customers pay for their over-priced cups of brown liquid, clinging desperately to that first sip feeling. Others sit and pound on keyboards while dressed in the latest designer fashions. Everything about the place hurts my head, almost like someone smashes it with a sledgehammer. Every day, I am forced to trudge to work past the establishment. Before I even see the massive glass windows adorned with that smiling bean-shaped insignia, the smel...

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“Butterscotch and Rum with a Cold Breeze” by Terri Sanders

Submitted to Contest #216

Cinnamon and pumpkin. Bella took in the smells as she crossed her legs and opened her computer. The spicy-sweet aroma woke up her stomach while she waited for her laptop to power up. Ribbons of steam escaped from her drink as she sipped it. Butterscotch and rum, my favorite. The heat... just right. It took the edge off of her grumbling belly. She peered at the screen, the tempo of the crowd was at the right level for concentration. Low conversations with undertones of cackling. Perfect. Bella stretched her long fingers and be...

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“Anne-Marie, The Story I Can’t Tell You ” by Livana Teagan

Submitted to Contest #216

T/W: This story contains explicit language and depictions of child abuse. Please read at your own discretion.“Let me see that,” I say. I pull her into my lap, smelling her apple scented hair. Tears trickle down her cheeks while cries hiccup from her chest. She needs me. Blood droplets form from a scrape on her shin. It’s not as bad as she makes it out to be. It seldom is. I never tell her so. Only we feel our pain, after all. What is a minor ache to someone might be an unbearable weight to another. “Stop that stupid fucking c...

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“Poly” by Audrey Knox

Submitted to Contest #216

“So, uhhh, I like, ran into Casey the other day.” “Cool bro,” Alfie said, eyes glued to the screen as his fingers moved expertly across the controller. “Have you met his friend Brandon?” “Nope.” Derek sunk into the couch, playing with one of the fiber threads, twisting it around the end of his index finger until the skin turned purple. Then letting it release and watching the color flood back into his fingertip. “They’re cool. They’re cool. They’re…” “They’re what?” “Ah, it’s stupid, never mind.” “You can tell me.” “I don’...

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“It Is Today” by Sol Caine

Submitted to Contest #216

I sit at my foggy window seat, looking out onto the rapid pace of the city, as people go about their daily business. You can always tell the ones who are running late. They’ll suddenly burst into a small trot for several meters, then resume their fast-walking pace, while trying to navigate between the slow walkers and the early morning tourists - stopping to look up at every shop sign, while snapping selfies, as the mad crowd rushes past them. It's early for some, late for others, and just, now - for people like me. I come in here to get o...

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“The Art of Awkwardness” by Glen Loveland

Submitted to Contest #216

Vivian fidgeted with her cat-eye frames, a nervous habit since her gawky teen years. She squinted under the harsh glow of gallery track lighting that bathed the cavernous white-walled space. Vivian took in the sea of socialites swirling around monumental oil paintings—abstract figures in fiery oranges, throbbing crimsons, and brilliant cobalt blues. “Gorgeous canvases, aren't they?” trilled Serena, breezing up in an emerald shift dress that set off her petite frame. “Patrick has really outdone himself this time.” Awkwardly, Vivian ...

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$250

Prize money

284

Contest entries

115

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 22, 2023 EST

Won by Hazel Ide 🏆

Title: Long Live the King

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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