Draft

The Words I've Refused To Say. Runner-Up in Not Quite There Yet Challenge.
A couple of years ago, I went through an extremely complicated friend break up that spiraled me into a different type of depression that I had never felt before. I will not be getting into the specifics, but while I was recovering, I wrote lots of poems and even had plans to format them into a book.
By Annie4 months ago in Critique
Growing Pains 🏡
"I will think about it tomorrow". Proclaims Scarlett O'Allen. As the words echo, going, going - gone with the wind. She who has many pages of finished and unfinished stories still in progress, and growing thicker every day...accompanied by a quaint, eclectic and diverse blend of partially written compilations of ideas for books and poetry still awaiting their day in the sunshine of publication.
By Novel Allen4 months ago in Critique
The Birth, Dissection & Evolution of a Story Never Written
For as long as I’ve had the desire to entertain readers with creative fiction writing, I’ve had a mermaid tale in my mind, just dying to come to life. It started out as a simple story idea, but has gradually evolved into something much greater.
By Justiss Goode4 months ago in Critique
The Front Nine
“Masie? Is that really you?” Josh sucked in his beginning of a paunch. “Where’s Sam?” The pro shop guy looked confused as he turned to return to his post.
By Harper Lewis 4 months ago in Critique
La-La Lost You, Formosa
The woman lowered her sunglasses as she pulled up in her Model Twice electric car. Chou Tzuyu was usually chauffeured around the sprawling City of Angels for most of her time in the US, whether by her staff, her Waymo-programmed EV, or her husband Ray. But ever since her daughter Isla was old enough for weekend playdates with her godmother and namesake Isla Banaag, she took it upon herself to personally drop off and pick up her little girl at and from the Alhambra light rail station. The Angeleno public transit system of 2050 still paled compared to that of pre-COVID-19 Taiwan and pre-Bibimbap Baby Bust Seoul, but she wanted to be able to give her daughter as much of her childhood Asia experience as possible- short of taking her back to Taiwan province, now in its 12th year of reunification with the Chinese mainland.
By James Bao4 months ago in Critique
Cloudy with a Chance of Cupid. Honorable Mention in Not Quite There Yet Challenge.
Over the past couple of years, I've entered (or at the very least, registered for) the NYC Midnight Short Story and 500-Word Fiction Challenges, which are online challenges for writers across the world hosted by NYC Midnight.
By Alyssa Musso4 months ago in Critique
Imposter Syndrome. Runner-Up in Not Quite There Yet Challenge.
Indecisive. That’s what I am. What should we have for dinner? What film should we watch? Don’t ask me. It’s not that I don’t have an opinion, especially when it comes to writing a story – In fact, I have so many ideas it's the equivalent of spinning countless metaphorical plates. But choosing one? Well, I might as well be Greek.
By Sian N. Clutton4 months ago in Critique
A- B Disconnect
The roads were busier than usual as the barriers kept rising. The metal vehicles buzzed all over as the barriers rose and fell. Built for collision, not comfort, the full-metal vehicles rattled along the roads to the city of Altronia. Elizabeth could feel her stomach shift as the vehicle sped past the barriers, and the traffic without humans was as bad as when they drove. The A-B competition was the one thing Elizabeth had selected for the event, hoping to make the A team, the best team, but playing for the B team if necessary. The yearly multi-sport event that teens would compete for dominance in physical sports. Elizabeth was running late. The event of the year was running on time. The ride there jolted as she grabbed the vomit bag in the back, emptying her stomach for the second time. The competition was only miles away, and yet the traffic was crazy between all the other cars. A stream of light flashed as the car came to a sudden stop. The wall stood up as Elizabeth flung forward. The wall lowered as the car sped to the event center. Looking at her watch, she saw the time had gone by quickly, and she was going to be late. This could cost her a chance to make the A team despite leaving so early. As the large building came into view, Elizabeth hoped she could finally check in. Another slam on the brakes left her holding on for her life.
By Sarah Danaher4 months ago in Critique
Forever Undone. Runner-Up in Not Quite There Yet Challenge.
Nightfall approached as a thick fog descended on the valley, slowly engulfing the blacksmith’s hut that sat at the far end of the meadow just at the forest’s edge. It was a modest structure accompanied by an equally modest forge and barn. An estate so unassuming and so far removed from the local town that one would hardly expect a blacksmith of such high regard to reside there.
By Penina Pohl4 months ago in Critique
Wild Rose (MY ONLY 'FRIENDS' FROM THE PSYCH WARD "soap opera"). Winner in Not Quite There Yet Challenge.
Dostoyevsky wrote that Hell is the inability to love. Among other things, my experiences with psychiatry and drugs, etc. would come to prove to me that the inability to truly love is indeed, at the very least, a type of hell or purgatory. But where this hell originates from is a mystery bequeathed to psychologists and writers to ponder and analyze; although the quality of this analysis is proportional to the writer's own level of evolution and enlightenment.
By ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR4 months ago in Critique
Not Quite, quite There.
No matter how hard I try to submit a story of 'not quite there' and 'the posthumous author'...the stories just do not seem to be getting any more alluring or interesting than when I first abandoned them.
By Novel Allen4 months ago in Critique
Fire I Wasn’t Ready to Hold. Top Story - June 2026.
If patience were a myth and I were the confidant of Prometheus, then I would be chained beside him; bound by the force of my own urgency, rushing toward a larger audience. My ambitions were molten. This story is a container for both my younger self and the self I forged later. I only came together after the explosion.
By Caitlin Charlton4 months ago in Critique