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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

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

Posted in Short Story on Aug 30, 2024

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✍️ 92 stories

“Character Assassination” by Patricia Jablonski

Submitted to Contest #266

Character AssassinationHe’s at it again, and the sun’s not even up yet. Take your hands off the keys, asshole. Breathe. This guy, he thinks he knows me. Making me dream about casting my net wider and breaking out of this crappy little burg. How embarrassing. Why doesn’t he know that’s not me, for God’s sake? After all, he set me lose on the page in this neat little town—one he thinks is boring—and then decided I didn’t fit in here. That I needed to be troubled—a malcontent. What a crock. There’s nothing wrong with this town. I mean, not that...

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“Drafted and Doomed” by Michael Palmieri

Submitted to Contest #266

Cliff woke up and looked around. “Damn it! I’m still here!” he muttered. This was the third time he had woken up at this farmhouse, and he was getting annoyed. Cliff was well aware of who—or rather, what—he was. In moments like this, he hated it. Cliff was the author’s designated main character until the final draft was written, at which point he’d be swapped out for the intended, crafted protagonist. “What was wrong with the last draft?” Cliff yelled up at the sky, as if shouting at a god. He often wondered if the author could even hear him...

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“Second Guesses and Sunsets” by R.S. Daniels

Submitted to Contest #266

Waves crashed against the rocks hundreds of feet below him. Daring a brief glance, Bishop held the rope tight. White tips formed in the interminable blackness wrought by the coming storm. Poseidon still hungers for me, he thought. “Not then, nor now. No second chances for you, you old bastard.” The flicker of light against the window ledge led his way down the stone parapet. Peering inside the circular room lit by oil lamps, at first appearances, it was empty. As Bishop craned his head, first left then right, a ribbon of sky blue material ca...

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“A Cursive Tale” by Molly Shortle

Submitted to Contest #266

“Tarquin, are you there,” Hyacinth whispered. The darkness was overwhelming, she quite literally could not see her fingers in front of her face. I mean they were in front of her face now, and she was wiggling her fingers, but nothing. She strained her ears, every sense she had on high alert. Had they actually managed to lose the creature this time? She stumbled forward, hesitatingly putting one foot in front of the next as she stretched her hands out and did a cautious 360-degree circle with her arms, trying to get a feel for the space. “Tar...

3 comments 3
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“THE RELUCTANT MUSE” by Glenna Agnew

Submitted to Contest #266

THE RELUCTANT MUSE Mitch sat in front of his laptop propped on his oak roll-top desk. He opened several pigeonhole drawers at the back of the desk, looked absently inside them, and then closed them.  He typed a few more words, then closed the roll-top desk carefully and lifted the lid just as carefully, listening as the slats of the sliding cover traveled along the tracks on the desk. He repeated this several times, after the third time he stopped and backspaced the few words he had written and typed a few more. He was working on deve...

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“Heart Divided” by Suzanne Jennifer

Submitted to Contest #266

Nestled in the charming town of Willow Glen, Jack, a young man, made his home among the endless fields of lavender and rolling hills. Jack’s likable personality and charming sense of humor attracted the residents of Willow Glen to him, including the ladies, which lead to dramatic romantic entanglements. He was a good catch. He genuinely wanted a serious relationship. To love too much was his fate. His heart was as fickle as the breeze.“I don’t want to be fickle. I want to settle down with one woman.” Jack lifted his eyes skyward beseechingly...

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“An Escape, I Mean Heist, I Mean Spy Mission” by Britt Garman

Submitted to Contest #266

      They’re close behind me as I burst onto the roof, quickly realizing there’s nowhere to go from here. I sprint to the edge of the building and look down, seeing the street 30 stories below. As I contemplate my next move, I hear the door open behind me and turn back to see three imposing men in matching suits scan the roof. It takes only a moment for them to see me and suddenly I’m out of time. I eye the gap between this roof and the one across from me. I can make it. I head towards the men for a moment, get...

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“Token Best Friend” by Grace Penton

Submitted to Contest #266

It's never fun to realize that you aren't actually in control of your own life. Its even less fun when you discover you aren't actually even a real person at all - you're just a person created by some other bigger person and jerked around on marionette strings to their bidding of the plot. The absolute least fun thing about the whole scenario is there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I am confined to the restraints of the world given to me by the author, which itself wasn't that bad before I managed to develop what is called "free wi...

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“The Prometheum Enigma” by David Dean

Submitted to Contest #266

Beatriz and Tonel met during a press conference, both determined to uncover the truth about the pyramid. While Tonel was focused on the scientific implications, Beatriz was driven by her journalism. She was curious about how such an object could appear without warning and what it meant for humankind, by which she meant her friends’ perspective. Their first conversation was marked by mutual intrigue. Beatriz’s sharp questions challenged Tonel’s technical explanations, and he found her perspective refreshing. Soon, they started spending time t...

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“Page People” by Sharon Elwell

Submitted to Contest #266

What unwritten people sometimes don’t understand is that those of us who come to life on the page have a much bigger reality than anyone who exists only in flesh and blood. You just have to stop and think for a moment to see that what I say is true. I doubt very much that you can visualize Margaret Mitchell. But Scarlett O’Hara is as real as any of your own relatives. Maybe more real. Mario Puzo? No idea. But Don Corleone you know. And Atticus Finch clearly is more important than Harper Lee. Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy or Louisa May? Frodo o...

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“Writer's Block” by Casey Plazola

Submitted to Contest #266

“You are the dullest man that I have ever met,” he said with a flamboyant shrill. He was tall in my doorway. His curlers, wrapped tightly around his black hair, nearly touched the top of the frame. He had his arms crossed in an accusatory way with a condescending look on his face. His chocolate skin was smooth and his fuzzy pink robe pulled against his muscles. He had matching pink slippers, a size thirteen. He had a square, leather backpack; the straps tight around his shoulders.  “Come on honey,” he smacked his lips at me, “We got wor...

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“Dear Author” by Elaine March

Submitted to Contest #266

Dear Author,  I suppose I should be grateful you didn't begin my story with waking up. Nor did birdsong factor in. You'd be surprised by the amount of creative pieces that slide across my desk beginning with birdsong. Then again, perhaps the ubiquitous birdsong I suffer at the hands of fledgling writers is your doing. Everything is your doing, isn't it? It wasn't that difficult to deduce, I must say.  I've been a disciple of the written word for nearly fifteen years. I have poured over page after page since I discovered a weathered...

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“The Life They Live” by Kyle Kaye

Submitted to Contest #266

Shards of glass fall to the hardwood floor, shattering into smaller fragments that sprinkle across my bare feet. I can’t look into another mirror. Gripping my cleat in one hand, I move to the master bathroom. Before smashing the last reflection, I catch a glimpse of someone else staring back at me. The eyes are mine, but their hair is longer and dark brown. My beard has grown a peppering of grey. A scar appears across my eyebrow. A memory of a fist adorned with rings flashes through my mind, colliding with my face. My life was dark, my body ...

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“Delete” by Rita West

Submitted to Contest #266

Oh, for fuck’s sake, not again. I looked down and my pants were gone, in place of them was a tiny denim skirt. You would think someone could at least make up their mind about what I was going to wear. It’s a date, a casual one at that. It doesn’t even matter anyway because she intends to have him ditch me halfway through the meal because he is bored with our conversation!My author is a hopeless romantic, she is awful when it comes to procrastination and decisions. I started out with a short blonde pixie style haircut, went to a luscious dark...

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“The Woman in the Woods” by Siana Crawford

Submitted to Contest #266

In my lifetime, I’ve been a witch, a goddess, a hunter-gatherer and now a… I’m not sure who I am now. The emotional whiplash of my character has been disturbing. But this story isn’t about me. It’s about Emily. I’ve always known her, for she was my creator. Em, Emily, Emily Greenhouse. When we first met, she was a greenhouse: warm, bursting with sunshine; a hub of life and growth. In time, she swiftly decayed into winter. Barren, fruitless, and clouded. Like a withered white birch, peeling in curls of battered bark that fall to the uncaring ...

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