Challenge

An Immaculate Mess
The original piece, the very first writing I published to Vocal.Media allowed me to enter this particular fray of digital creativity. The piece called "Like Luthiers" ( https://vocal.media/futurism/like-luthiers-1 ) sparked this piece because now the metaphor becomes literal here. Enjoy!
By Sky Saunders24 days ago in Writers
Murder at Donnelly Manor
At exactly 8:25 Wednesday evening, a crash was heard in Donnelly Manor. It was followed by a high-pitched scream. A loud thud was heard. And then, another scream.
By David E. Perry25 days ago in Writers
The Paper Bag Chronicles: How My Driveway Became a Museum Exhibit for Britain's Declining Competence. Top Story - September 2026.
Take a moment to gaze at my chosen image from 'Unsplash,' and what does it tell you? No, it isn't that the toilet rolls are a grim portent of another incoming COVID outbreak, and it's not that he's about to break out into an enthusiastic attempt at juggling either; that carton of eggs at the very top wouldn't stand a chance of making it home. No.
By Jonathan Townend26 days ago in Writers
🌹Wild Wicked Witch of the West: Where? 🌹
Washington Warrior William Wanka, the Watermelon Wombat, . . . was waiting for his wacky whiskey while eating his words with walnuts waffles . . . . . . .when a weird werewolf, wagging wagonloads of wieners,. . .stoled his wisdom wallet from the warplane, WTF?
By SAMURAI SAM: Wild Wayne26 days ago in Writers
Three Directions In One Description
Introduction This Seven Days In post has the title "Peru - Three Directions In One Description" and I have decided to use that concept for this piece though not about Peru.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 28 days ago in Writers
A Wintery Encounter
“Winter Foxgon are incredibly territorial. Unlike the other species of Foxgon, Winters are much more solitary in nature. Usually only grouping together when raising their young or gathering during celebrations such during winter and summer solstice. “Winters are ambush hunters. Using their colors to blend into their environment, they allow their prey to come close enough to pounce.
By Margy29 days ago in Writers
𝕺𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖀𝖓𝖔𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊
Calling all storytellers! For October, I am hosting another Unofficial Writing Challenge. This time, we are cozying up around a crackling campfire on a brisk Autumn evening, so break out your coats and scarves, skewer some marshmallows for s’mores, and prepare to share your best Campfire Stories.
By 𝐑𝐌𝐒29 days ago in Writers
The Suffering Theory of Art Is a Lie Writers Need to Stop Telling
“Suffering is the fertile soil of literature.” The line sounds like law. It is not. Fertile soil does not grow crops by itself. It needs seed, rain, season, and hands. Suffering is the same. It can feed a writer. It can crush one.
By Jin29 days ago in Writers
The Only 3 Writing Skills You Actually Need (And Why the Rest Is Noise)
What Are the Basic Skills You Actually Need to Write a Novel? People love making lists about writing. You need strong characterization.
By Jinabout a month ago in Writers
I’m Over 70 and I Started Posting Online. Here’s What Surprised Me Most.
After 70, You Can Still Create Content: A Guide for Older Adults Many people think content creation belongs to the young. Spend time in the comments on Toutiao, Douyin, or WeChat Channels, and you will see something else. A large group of creators over 70 publish steadily. They do it well. They do not chase trends. They do not rely on twists. They do not manufacture anxiety. They write about what they bought at the market. They photograph flowers in the park. They talk about bickering with a spouse and making up. Young people cannot produce this material in the same way. They have not lived it.
By Jinabout a month ago in Writers
The Worry.. Content Warning.
I didn’t mean to write thirty‑seven stories. It just… happened. One minute I was sitting there on September eighth thinking, “Hey, I’ll enter this challenge,” and the next thing I knew, I was knee‑deep in plot ideas, caffeine, and whatever leftover brain cells my kids hadn’t stolen from me. I blinked, and suddenly I had a whole damn library of stories published.
By Syl De'Vilabout a month ago in Writers
Licking Love From a Blade
I can still feel the night everything shifted—the night I got the phone call that my ex Nick had died. It hits me in the chest every damn time, like someone reaching in and squeezing something I didn’t know was still alive. I was at a bar in Kenosha, Wisconsin with a Turkish friend, pretending I was fine, pretending I wasn’t about to make some really bad choices. I was a version of myself teetering on the edge of something stupid, and instead I fell straight into a pit of self‑pity and regret. The atmosphere of that time was desolation. Nothing else fits.
By Syl De'Vilabout a month ago in Writers