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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#266: The Write Stuff

Hello, fellow writers! Before diving into this week’s contest, I have an exciting announcement to make: the Reedsy Book Editor, our beloved (and free) writing app, is now Reedsy Studio! This cozy space is designed to be your creative haven, where you can make boards to sketch out your wildest character ideas, set goals to help you reach the finish line, export your stories with beautiful, customized typesetting, and so much more.

Studio is a gorgeous, functional book editor where your creativity can truly flourish… which brings me to the focus of this week’s contest. If you’re an aspiring author like me, you’ve probably experienced writer’s block at least once in your life — not to mention all the distractions life seems to perpetually throw at you. So, this week, let’s write stories inspired by artists and the creative process. Whether you’re the world’s biggest procrastinator or have been waiting for inspiration to strike, there’s bound to be a prompt below that speaks to you!

This week's prompts

Start your story with someone who wants to give up on their career right before their big break.

Short Story – 39 stories

Your protagonist discovers that everything they type comes true. What happens next?

Short Story – 54 stories

Write from the POV of a character in a story who keeps getting re-written by their second-guessing author.

Short Story – 92 stories

Your protagonist has the perfect day scheduled — but things don’t go according to plan.

Short Story – 40 stories

Write about someone who summons the creative muse through a convoluted ritual or method.

Short Story – 56 stories

Stories

“George” by McKade Kerr

Submitted to Contest #266

Hello, my name is John. No wait, it’s Gerald. Oh, goodness no. It’s actually George. Yeah, that’s right. George… Smith. No, George Brown. George Williams? George Johnson perhaps. Nope, just George. I have no need for a last name. At least not yet I suppose. So, my name is just George. For right now. I’m very tall. Nope, average. Actually, a little on the short side. That’s too bad. And I have blue eyes. Nope, brown eyes. And I’m incredibly attractive. Wait, oh goodness, please don’t change that one. Welp, turns out I’m actually unattractive....

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“Mighty the Pen” by DJ Grohs

Submitted to Contest #266

“The pen is mightier than the sword: wield it wisely,” reads the whisp of paper pulled from my fortune cookie. “Well, Cissy, that’s a profound load of drivel.” I speak aloud to my empty kitchen as I crumple the bit of paper and let it fall into the detritus of my General Tso’s Sunday night takeout. Days later, though, I would be forced to reconsider. ---------------------------------------------------------------To: gloriaherrit@nevabank.comDate: Mon, Feb 5 at 10:43 AMFrom: ceceliaprobest@nevabank.comSubject: Meeting follow-up D...

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“Meadow” by Tempest Phoenix Smith

Submitted to Contest #266

L’scariot stood hip deep among the colourful wild flowers, lifting the beautiful woman up, the summer breeze playing with her long dark hair, the glowing sun not as bright as her smiling face. He slowly turned, his strong musculature supporting her petite weight, holding her securely so she would not fall, letting her laughter completely fill his mind.That part of him that always questioned wondered why he did not know her name, but what did that matter when they were alone together and the sun was shining?Then, aware of stealthy approach fr...

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“The Ultimate Script” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #266

"If the voices in your head had any say, any say in the matter at all, how would they account for themselves?"One voice to another. Not quite fair. A fair question would begin with "Who is speaking?"Wouldn't they?I'm not quite with it yet. I'll let you know."But it isn't only a matter of perspective. Or you would be able to answer."Who are you?Answer who are you. Do it!"I said, I would let you know."Rubbish. I turn in and there is more than I can take in. Dreams that are neither here nor there. I wake up thinking I know what is what. What a ...

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“WHERE ARE YOU MELODY?” by Melinda Madrigal

Submitted to Contest #266

She's gone. Where did she go? I can't find her anywhere. I close my eyes and say her name, Melody. Nothing, she disappeared. I need her back. I can't do this on my own. I need her by my-side. Take a deep breath Juniper. You can do this. My work is too important to me and I need Melody to finish. Now the important question. How do I summon Melody? Melody is my muse. My creative muse. Melody is one of only a handful of muses that inspire creative people like myself to find the inspiration and the power to do good work. For the longest time I'v...

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“An Epiphany” by Sargam Singh Rasaily

Submitted to Contest #266

An Epiphany'Sorry dear, I can't do it.'Pawan yanked the sticky note sheet from the bathroom mirror, and read the message again – ‘Sorry dear, I can't do it’. He could not believe it. How can she step back when a step forward would be opening a whole new world for her, he thought. He swung around and stomped out, shutting the door behind him with a bang. "Sujata, Sujata! Where are you?" He marched to the kitchen, where his wife was preparing breakfast. “What’s this? He slammed the sticky note on the kitchen table. “How can you do this now? Wh...

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“Corona, Corona” by PJ Town

Submitted to Contest #266

I have something phenomenal (an actual phenomenon, in fact) to record, but first things first. On a whim the size of a house, I bought a typewriter.I’ve always coveted one of those you see in old films, though not for any practical purpose – I have my laptop for most writing tasks, or a pen and paper as back-up when circumstances dictate. But I’ve always liked the aesthetic of a Royal, a Remington, an Underwood. And the clunky sound of them; it seemed like real work was being done with each punch of a key, unlike the practically effortless s...

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“The Storm of the Century” by John Bryan

Submitted to Contest #266

Only the clock knew the time. Outside, sheets of snow fall under layers of clouds, concealing day or night. But for the light glowing atop, the streetlamp barely visible. A halo in the darkness. Tomorrow, the Times' front page will read, "The Storm of the Century!"Maria, wearing a snow-white dress, delicately laced, peeks behind the creme-colored drapes again, as she has every 5 minutes for the past two-hours. Nothing visible at first. However, in the distance, a figure, perhaps a man, walks briskly wearing a black fog coat and lar...

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“Tortured Pages” by L.A. Crum

Submitted to Contest #266

“Son of a bitch!” Henry chucked a pen at the computer screen in front of him and pushed back in his chair, almost tipping over. He put his hands over his face, outlining the contour of his cheeks and jawline as they returned to his lap. The screen in front of him was white with blotches of black lettering and a blinking cursor. On the desk to his right sat a tattered old notebook. Within its pages lay the contents of Henry’s brain. Random words of differing sizes. Doodles. Pictures cut from magazines taped to the off-white pages. It was a co...

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“Gumshoe” by Malcolm Twigg

Submitted to Contest #266

The broad who walks into the joint isn’t much to look at, but there’s something about her that demands attention. Maybe it’s the ‘45 in her hand. It’s still smoking. And the way her hand is trembling makes everyone in the bar duck. Well, I say everyone. There’s just me and the barkeep. And then there’s just me and the broad, because the barkeep disappears and don’t come back. So, I gingerly take the piece out of the broad’s hand, because from her appearance there’s likely no way she’s going to use it again, except by accident. In all my year...

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“Twest ” by Dr. Jael Zebulun

Submitted to Contest #266

3 p.m. July 29, 2017, Houston, Texas. I re-planned that day a thousand times in my mind. I could have left at a different time. I could have gone to the apartment office when I saw their car pull in backwards, could have asked someone to walk me to my Jeep (although it’s common enough to park facing out, but now my hair prickles when I see someone park that way). Could have stayed in the office until they left. Perhaps if I had simply gotten in my Jeep, closed the door and locked it, ignoring the young man yelling, “Hey!”...

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“From the Shadows” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #266

It was a humid night. I sat out on my back porch, looking out into the yard. I sipped a glass of wine, enjoying the breeze from the fan above. Shadows of people began to take shape before my eyes. Some stood there, doing nothing, while others chatted among themselves or acted out scenes. They all did this to capture my attention because I could take them one step closer to becoming alive. I focused on one of the shadows, a familiar figure I’d spoken to often, though he never appeared the same way twice. Sometimes, he was a young man; other t...

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“Writers Life” by N. S. WALUSIMBI

Submitted to Contest #266

In a trice, the bright light from the window hit my eyes forcing me to locomote and choose a new part of the bed to seek refuge. The extreme end, the one neighboring the wall shall do it. Like a Boa constrictor who just had lunch, I tried to roll across to my chosen spot. It usually takes three to five seconds to get comfortable on any part of the bed but my bones weigh a ton. I am very weak. I am very hungry. I, for some unknown reason, glimpse the cross in my room. There is Jesus. Forever on that cross. In a way I guess He knew how m...

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“The Perfect Day” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #266

Jackie Yay, the perfect day for writing. Three friends agreed they would extend their usual two-hour write-together date into a daylong feast. “Labor Day—for our labors of love,” Jackie said, and she reserved the big meeting room at her office for the three of them. They would each bring their work-in-progress.Jackie’s husband was away on a weekend retreat; her time was truly her own. She set out on her bike an hour early, planning to get a head start. But her front tire had a slow leak so she had to stop twice to pump it.The second time she...

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“The Perfect Life” by Marshall Gothage

Submitted to Contest #266

Gregor sat, surrounded by the morning rush of the congested coffee shop, occasionally checking his periphery for any admirers. He peacocked as a struggling writer. He was sporting faded blue jeans, a wrinkled white button-down, and a rusted suede coat a few sizes too small that strangled his arms like a boa. The coat forced him to write uncomfortably in ten-minute intervals, anything over that, and his arms began to go numb. Without it, however, he would not look like a writer, ruining the point of writing in a coffee shop. The t...

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$250

Prize money

281

Contest entries

108

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 06, 2024 EST

Won by Derrick M Domican 🏆

Title: inspirAItion

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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