Enter Writing Contest Novels & Stories

the caller said. I was stunned for a moment when I heard his voice because it was Oliver. How did he know my—oh yeah, probably because of Matthew. I immediately stood up. "Yes, speaking," I replied. "I just wanted to ask if you've started writing," he asked in a monotone but polite voice. "Actually, I haven't," I honestly answered. Please end the call. I was pacing back and forth in my small living room. "Please do start writing now because we have already decided to enter your work, Mr. Wright, into a competition that will happen in three weeks from now." Say what? I stopped walking, a competition?

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.

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.

I keep staring at it. I will crush on her hard if she is not too pop for my taste. I close the page and just open my G***l. Anya is not who I care about tomorrow. I immediately saw an email from ROCK OUT LOUD! Sent at 6 AM with the subject title The Rocking Songwriting contest! My palms start sweating. The Rock Out Loud Songwriting contest...It is one of the biggest songwriting contests in the country (and the only rock-related one). It holds a songwriting contest every year, but I only joined last January where the theme was "The World Is Against All Odds!" because it is related to my favorite local band, Hearts In Circle's new album with the same name. Not only that, but the band will also

"There would be other competitions in sciences and arts, but this is bigger than them all. I want to encourage every single one of you to put in your best work. This is life-changing, and I mean that. Everyone is welcome to enter, no matter your year or your background, and entry is completely free. The application is live right now on the school website. Bulletins have also been sent to your school email, and copies are posted on every board in the building." The room broke into noise the second she stepped back from the podium, everyone talking over each other about the numbers she just read out. I sat there, my mind already running through fabric choices and sketches I had drawn in my not

Dear Readers, I am thrilled to announce the completion of the rewritten version of my book. The journey has been exhilarating, and I am equally excited for you to dive into this new story. My greatest hope is that you find as much joy in reading it as I did in writing it. Please, remember this book is participating in a contest and I am counting on you guys to emerge as a winner. If you enjoy this book please don't forget to vote and comment. Thank you. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas in advance and a Prosperous New Year!