Writing Competitions For Money Novels & Stories

I could hear him because it is not that far from where I am standing right now. I couldn't move. I was completely surprised by what he just did. He didn't forget that I like vanilla-flavored ice cream. "Your treat! Your treat! Your treat!" the crowd screamed repeatedly. Dale just grabbed the 1st place award in the feature writing category at the University's Power of Pen workshop. More than 500 aspiring writers joined the said workshop from different universities and Dale secured the 1st spot. I couldn't stop myself from joining their cheers. I'm so happy for him.

For the ones who disappeared. For the ones we couldn’t save in time. For the ones still fighting. And for the ones brave enough to rise anyway. River’s POV I designed the submission process myself. One page. No names. No résumés. No GPAs. Just a single question: What have you never said out loud, and how has it shaped you? I told Melinda we’d pick three recipients each year. Each would get $10,000 to put toward anything they wanted — education, housing, travel, therapy.

To my disbelief, he nodded eagerly and spoke into the phone. "Janice, don't be angry. Don't waste your breath arguing with this stubborn girl. I'll handle it. She's my daughter. She can't possibly defy me." The last shred of hope inside me shattered. I hung up, then immediately called the travel agency. "Hello. My name is Elise Whitmore. I'm the prize winner. My ID number is... "My redemption code was stolen. I want the prize frozen immediately." The customer service representative remained polite. "Certainly, Ms. Whitmore. We've verified your prize information.

It had been barely two weeks since the financial aid fiasco when Mom found another excuse to make my life difficult. This time, she demanded that I surrender the prize money I had won in a writing competition. She sat there on her fancy ergonomic leather couch, sipping coffee from a designer mug, shooting me a look that reeked of pure disdain. At the very least, she had learned from her previous mistake. Instead of confronting me in front of the class, she had summoned me here in private.

Deal? That gave me pause. The Aureate Awards ran every two years. It was an international design competition with big-name sponsors and wide press coverage. Spots were impossible to get unless you had brand backing. Nyx barely scraped one entry per round. The last guy who made it in placed nineteenth, then vanished from our office two months later with a new job and a fat contract. I tapped my nail against the phone’s edge. ‘If we’re going by merit, the spot’s already mine. Giving it to anyone else would be a waste. You know that.’

“That’s ridiculous! I don’t believe that they could come up with a competition like that when all they have to do is prepare for an imminent war. Do you think that if Alpha Zeke doesn’t win, he will let go of his pack? He will fight Alpha Ezra.” “I heard Alpha Zeke is gone for a few days.” Then ignoring my words, she said, “There’s a prize of two hundred dollars though.” That made me pause. Two hundred dollars? It was enough to buy essentials, to keep myself alive a little longer in this hellhole, until I escaped. “I want to join,” I whispered. Alicia’s eyes lit up as she chuckled. “I knew you’d say yes! You are best at it. Come on! We have to fill out the entry form. You’ll need a partner t

She stood up, picked up a small booklet next to her, and handed it over to me, "Read this. It is about the high-end indoor design competition named Gifted Design Award." I roughly looked through the booklet and found that there would be a salon auction after the design competition was over. The participants with the awarded works could get a bonus. Besides, among all the awarded works, the excellent ones would be auctioned solely. To put it simply, the participants could earn money and become famous, which sounded indeed good. I put the booklet aside and pretended to be serious, "Well, I feel that if I don't encounter any accidents, I can book the second place in advance."

"It's conveniently open to mech designers who have just graduated or are in their final years in college. I guess the Republic wants to make sure it hasn't missed any talents." "You should check out the rewards." Ves did, and widened his eyes. 1st Prize - Gold Cup, 1 million bright credits 2nd Prize - Silver Cup, 500,000 bright credits 3rd Prize - Bronze Cup, 200,000 bright credits If he won first prize, then even if he couldn't meet the interest payment, he could at least afford other necessities. The raw materials to build up a mech didn't come cheap. "These aren't even the real rewards, Ves. If you stand out during the competition, you might be able to get an audience with the real movers

“God forbid I help you with your class work and research. I’d rather pluck out my eyeballs.” He smiled. “Etta Publications contacted me today.” My attention snapped to him. “Remember the political commentary competition we entered last month?” he said. “We made the shortlist.” I stared at him. “You’re lying.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a white envelope. The Etta logo stared back at me. My chest tightened. “Final round interview,” he said. “The winner gets fifty thousand dollars and a one-year contract.” Fifty thousand dollars. That amount could cover my tuition, feeding and rent for a year.

“Do you know about the corporate Hackathon that’s coming up?” “Of course. We’re sending in our top developers to participate in it.” “Really?” I asked, “What’s the prize money?” “Ten thousand dollars.” “Wow, what?” I exclaimed. “That’s a lot of money.” “Yes. They intend to find a talented coder through the competition. The prize money is just one of the perks. They have more.” “Such as?” “Well, a lot of companies have their eyes on the competition. The winners and runners up will be given a lot of opportunities, job proposals, what not. It is great for one’s CV.”