Enter Writing Contest Novels & Stories

He shut it down and placed it on my study table. What was his problem? "Prof said it should be handwritten" I nagged and opposed. I hate writing things down using my hands, for one main reason. I have really bad penmanship. One time, I joined a feature writing competition. I was so confident because the topic was so easy and fun. I was the first one to finish writing and on the day of the winner announcement, I was not called. Meaning I lost. I asked one of the judges why I did not win, all he said was 'You have bad penmanship' and that was the start of my traumatic writing experience.

com There will be senior editors review the entries and help you develop even the random thoughts to well-written stories.

I could feel the determination rising within me, and I clenched my fists, pushing aside the nagging questions about the media. “Oh, his birthday is coming up, isn't it?” Pierre's voice broke through my thoughts, his words pulling me back into the moment. “That would be the perfect time for you to submit your entry as well.” I paused, my brush hovering over the half-finished painting. “Submit my entry?” I echoed, squinting at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Where would I be submitting it?” Pierre raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Right, I forgot you don't have your phone with you right now. There's a contest happening in the city,”

It’s Drew. Shit. I knew it He’s probably watching me from somewhere. He probably knows what I’m up to and has reported it to Aaron. I shakily picked up the call. “Hey Drew I..” I stutter but his end is noisy so I can barely hear myself. “There’s a short story contest going on downtown. Write something and send it over then Bobby will pick you up after work when they call the results.” Drew says all in a breath. “W-what?”

I hesitate for a few seconds, then remind myself that Elora would have wanted me to do this. The theme of the contest is Nostalgia. I flex my fingers, sitting at my desk. A few ideas already play in my mind. And when that happens, I like to sketch all and then pick the one that speaks to me best. I don’t look up or away from the pad as I work. The strokes come easily, and I enjoy it. By the time I look up, time has passed by me quicker than I realize. The sun is setting, and dinner time is coming. I get up, stretching, my eyes fall on my phone, it may have dinged while I worked, and I wouldn’t have heard anything.

“Not naïve, honey. I think you will. And not just for the first year.” At the suggestion about a full scholarship, Emmie smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Queens.” “Did you send some of your photos to the contest you wanted to enter?” The girl exhaled as she nodded. “Yeah,” she mumbled and took a seat. “I haven’t heard back though.” “Didn’t you say they’d announce the winners at the end of July?” “Exactly.” She sipped her water before placing it on the wooden table. “But don’t they have to talk to the winners privately at first? I probably didn’t even place twentieth, there were like thousands of submissions.”

How my brother used to protect me in school, and how we became friends. “Hey, there is a state competition for romantic story writers. Why don’t you take part, Aoife?” I inhaled a sharp breath because I had told no one I used to write stories. “No, I don’t have time for writing anymore. College, assignments, library, it’s exhausting. I think Matt is the right fit for any writing competition.” “But you are a wonderful writer. I read your stories, and it’s the best I’ve read so far,” she replied.

Then there was a bold writing by the side, which read; Writing contest for High school Students. Winner of the contest gets a free trip to France. You must be between the age sixteen and nineteen to be able to participate in this contest. Deadline: 26th of July, 2020 Visit: elixirwritingcontest@gmail.com to register for the contest and to enquire for more information. "How am I even supposed to participate in a writing contest when I can't even update my story during the week? Besides do you think parents would even let me go to France by myself?"

"Your stories have the power to touch hearts, to inspire others. Don't let fear hold you back from sharing that gift with the world." With her words echoing in my mind, I took a deep breath and made up my mind. I would enter the writing contest, not for the sake of winning, but for the joy of seeing my words come alive on paper and reaching out to others. Days turned into nights as I poured my heart and soul into crafting the story for the contest. I spent countless hours refining each sentence, polishing every word until they shimmered with emotion and authenticity. The characters on the page became real to me, living and breathing with every turn of phrase.