Top Stories
New stories youโll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
The Poetry Dimension
I have been telling stories since I first learned to speak. Iโve been writing since I first had the motor control to grip a pencil in my little ravioli fist. One of my two Bachelors degrees is in Creative Writing, for goodness sake! I like to imagine, dear friends and enemies, that I have made somewhat of a life for myself out of the written word. But if this is the case, dear reader, then why does poetry confuse and upset me so damn much?
By Steven Christopher McKnight4 months ago in Confessions
Easin' into the Season
The Holiday Season is upon us. Thanksgiving is barely out of the way, and the shops have transitioned from Black Friday sales right into Christmas sales. The local radio stations have been playing carols for about the same length of time. Neighborhood lighting competitions are well underway. Its a typical December here in the good ol' USA.
By Dana Crandell4 months ago in Humans
Published
In September 2024, I got this response to a short story I submitted to a magazine. Original rejection That initial rejection hurt as much as it gave me hope. They liked it, but there were better submissions out there. That's the name of the game. It doesn't necessarily mean your work was bad; there were just pieces they liked more.
By Alivia Varvel4 months ago in Writers
The Unlikeliest of Places to Encounter the Paranormal
When we think of haunted places, the first thing that might come to mind is an old cemetery with centuries old gravestones, the words long faded to decipher. Or we might think of an old run down house. Walk into a centuries old house and if youโre a believer in the paranormal, you might wonder if youโre sharing this house with a spirit.
By Jasmine Aguilar4 months ago in Horror
Our Old Story
She reached for itโฆ But she had one final thing to say firstโฆ โDarling, I know that this is probably the absolute worst moment to end things with a speech, but the doctors say that you will not remember this tomorrow, and I have so much that I still want to tell you before I leave. Soโฆletโs start at the very beginningโฆ
By Kendall Defoe 4 months ago in Fiction
Punctuation Overload!
In the family of punctuation, where the full stop is daddy and the comma is mummy, and the semicolon quietly practises the piano with crossed hands, the exclamation mark is the big attention-deficit brother who gets overexcited and breaks things and laughs too loudly. โ Lynne Truss
By Pamella Richards4 months ago in Chapters
FPS: Villanelle of Regret Challenge Winners
Some feelings donโt fade. They repeat. The Villanelle of Regret challenged poets to write into that return. To let regret, longing, and obsession build with each pass, rather than resolve. The strongest entries trusted repetition to carry the weight.
By Vocal Curation Team4 months ago in Resources
Confession: I am Not Nice
As a woman, I am very aware that I am supposed to be nice. I am supposed to be warm and giving and understanding; according to my very Church of Scotland upbringing I am also supposed to be a wellspring of calm, quiet compassion. No wrath, no hysteria (though this is deemed to be understandable due to the naturally delicate temperament of women). I am, in short, supposed to be ladylike. Feminine... and, if at all possible, graceful. The problem, lads and lassies, is that I am very few of these things most of the time and none of them very often.
By S. A. Crawford4 months ago in Humor
A Map to Success
When it comes to getting published as a writer and for it to really make a difference for your career, itโs tough. But I had sat back in reflection for a while and did some high-to-medium-quality thinking. I had a theory, a whole big planโฆ a manifesto? I had to look up the definition to be certain. Sort of? I detailed a lot of it here if youโre interested in the long explanation.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile4 months ago in Writers
Them.
The storm raged wildly outside. With the fast pace of the train, the raindrops almost looked like razor blades slicing through the wind and the trees. It was difficult to see much beyond what was right outside the window. It was hot in the train cab, muggy. I could feel the beads of sweat starting to form around my scalp. I leaned my forehead against the window and let the freezing glass calm down the uncomfortable feeling.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
