Youth Writing Contests Novels & Stories

He'd ask me questions that had me Googling at midnight. Ms. Beck smiled. "He's going to need enrichment. Additional work. Maybe a mentor farther down the road. I'd love to get your permission to submit some of his work to a citywide creative writing contest." "Yes," I said immediately. "Absolutely." I walked home, feeling like I was floating. The street noise was the same—blaring horns, bikes rattling over potholes, laughter from a convenience store radio. But the world had changed. Lighter. Brighter.

Excited whispers moved around the room. Mr. Hall placed the papers on the desk. “The National Youth Robotics Competition opens in six weeks, and our academy has been invited to send one elite team.” The room exploded immediately. Questions flew everywhere. “How many students?” “What category?” “Do winners get scholarships?” Mr. Hall raised a hand. “Five students only.” Silence fell. “Selection starts today.” Leo slid into his seat quietly. Across the room another boy leaned back in his chair. Nathan Vale. Seven years old.

Terrence took the tray and pulled out all the food. Terrence fed me. I grumbled that the tofu was still superheated. I thought he was purposely pissing me off “Have you heard of an exciting contest?” Terrence asked me. “What kind of contest is that?” Terrence frowned. “I don't understand, but some students at Miracle Academy talk about this contest non-stop. Maybe you can check your email. You're still using the old email, right? We do promotions via email as well.” “Wow. looks like it's a great contest. Is it a contest to catch rabbits or a power struggle between werewolves?”

After all, he was my numero uno fan. “Not really… well, kind of. My manager told me about this competition all over the States when I went to submit my draft to her, it’s about writing an original novel on any genre the writer prefers. Whoever wins—I think there will be one from each genre—will get their book published nationwide and sign a five-year contract with one of the famous publication houses.” I explained. “Ah! That’s great! You decided on what to write yet?” he asked curiously, laying his head on my lap as he did so. “I could give you—”

She couldn't spend the rest of the year listening to a chorus of kissing sounds whenever she walked into a room. "It'd be easy. We can start by printing up some flyers on the school's printer," Charlie said. "Where would we have people send the poems?" Mary asked. "It'll look kind of strange if it's one of our houses, won't it?" "We can use my cousin's!" Jonas said. "She lives in Washington, D.C. That'll make it look real official. The National Poetry Writing Contest, in the nation's capital." "And then you'll tell Lucy?" Emily asked. She sounded uncomfortable, even disgusted by the idea. "That it's all just a prank? A joke? When it's all over?"

After few days we got a notice, the notice was that everyone are compulsory to participate in story writing competition. The competition was between whole school except the juniors did not have the competition. The moral was given one day ahead. I went home and thought about the competition. I just thought I will do okay as usual. The next day competition was held.

After his conversation with Nathan, Dash spoke to his teachers that he will be joining the school club’s activity. As the one leading Overwrite (this is the name of their club), he wanted to be hands-on with the registration of the possible members of the club. Overwrite is a writer’s club. Nowadays, most youths keep themselves busy by playing games. This results in poor communication with their friends and especially with their family. With Overwrite, he believes that he can encourage the youth to express what they feel using the writings. He exactly knows how challenging it is to say what you feel so why not turn them into stories and poems.

It was a notification from the class group chat with good news. [Congratulations to Ellie Wagner! Her writing “My Mom” won first prize in a local competition and has been shortlisted for the state competition. Please take note, Mrs. Wagner!] That’s great. My writing won an award. I revised that writing so many times and poured so much of my heart into it. It was filled with my most genuine feelings for Mom. The group chat was instantly flooded with congratulations. [Mrs. Wagner, you’re amazing! How did you raise such a well-rounded child?]