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Summer of Stories! Week 3, Day 2




Think you have what it takes to write something EVERY DAY this summer? Prove it! Check out the link to the challenges above -- and today's challenge below -- and be sure to copy the tags into the "Tags" bar. Special bonus points if you invite your friends to join.

Week Three: That Just Happened... (A story from your own life... sorta)

Today's Challenge:

Day 2: Consider the feedback you received, and your own perception of your stories. Choose one to expand upon. Tell the real-life story.
Thoughts: real life stories are often difficult to frame. Be careful not to include too much background--start IN the story--and end it on a powerful note. The ending should have some sort of effect on the reader--is the reader shocked? laughing? angry? overwhelmed with cuteness?
Commenting: How did the story make you feel? Any surprises?
Tags: SoS15, SoS15.14

The Voice: July issue

Congratulations to Avery McLean! July Writer of the Month!

Read the third installment of Avery's novella "Alice!"

Subscribe to The Voice! It's FREE!

Explore your Town Forest. Write. Win Prizes!

Photo by Kevin Huang, Burlington High School

Take a walk in the woods of Vermont!

Vermont has more than 300 town forests -- there's probably one in your town or very close by. This year marks the centennial of the legislation that started them all. That means it's time to celebrate our public woodlands!

The Vermont Town Forest Centennial Celebration, in partnership with Young Writers Project, invites YOU to write about your town forest.

Prizes: 1st: $100; 2nd: $75; 3rd: $50. (Cash prizes are generously donated by The French Family Foundation.) All winners will also receive a 2016 season pass to Vermont State Parks and will have their work published.


TownForest.Prompts.A.pdf416.41 KB
angela weasley's picture

Pre-School Sweetheart + Audio

Oh how I loved the way his hair sparkled in the low light during nap time.

And the way he played with me, it was really sublime. 

Sometimes he would whisper for me to meet him behind the play-structure,

and he would tell me tales about dragons and Pokemon.

His dirt brown eyes reminded me of the worms we would collect,

and the soil castles that we wrecked.

He was a little bit smaller than me,

but size doesn't matter, on that we agree.

I had many play date's with him that ended with us screaming.

DiscusThrower's picture

It is so Ordered

The title of this piece comes from Supreme Court Justice Kennedy's last paragraph of the courts opinion, confirming gay marriage as protected under the constitution and a right for everyone across the nation.

When a young child has their first love,
and writes their first love note
"Check Yes or No".
Everyone finds it cute

But for a young child whos first crush is the same identity
They are openly condemned for it.
What must this child to for love?
When people and organizations spew venom
Do we teach that this country is "equal?"

greta.hm's picture

No Regrets

Kind of sprouted from Kyrridwen's "Peace, of a Sort"


Firegirl03's picture

Cows and Cars

"Cause the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate..." Josie warbled from the passenger seat, her whole body swaying back and forth to the music.

Dan looked over at her and grinned. Josie had the voice of a tiger with larygitis, but she was never afraid to belt to the radio at the top of her lungs.

"And the players gonna play, play, play, play, play..." Jess joined in from the back seat.

Josie slapped Dan's arm. "C'mon! Sing along! You know you want to."

Grace's picture

The Flower Thief

He watches his victim like a tiger watches

his prey, observing its every move, waiting

for the ideal moment to strike.

He pounces and snaps its delicate neck

with one stroke, but he is full of greed and yearns

for more, and so he snaps

every surrounding neck until the earth is baren and unwanted.

He plucks and cleans each one thoroughly,

trimming broken edges 

and tearing away superfluous pieces. He

places them in bottles

of blown glass with crimson rims and fucia bowls

Firegirl03's picture


i wake up at night

listening to the clacking of cabinets

open, close.

to the doors and light switches

creak, clap.

to the footsteps and the murmurs

pik pak, shsh.

i close my eyes and think

about the next day

and the next week

and the next month

SingingSigrid's picture


i can no longer write in rhyme. 

the world no longer fits together like puzzle pieces-

bits of me are spread like ashes across the fields where the cows graze 

across the ocean where i learned to swim

across the cities where i breathed the night.

it turns out being broken is not such a bad thing, 

i can give a sliver of heart to everything i used to know. 

i can no longer write in rhyme

perhaps i must learn to love like this. 


Lit cigarette

I feel like a lit cigarette

being thrown out of a car window onto the hot-top at night.

You watch me crash and burn,

not figuratively,

but literally.

You breathe me in and breathe me out,

only for your turn with me to come to an end.


I feel like a lit cigarette

being thrown out of a car window onto the hot-top at night.

You continue to drive

as you watch me hit the hard surface as I

burn out.

Then decide to light another,

Not a prompt, but a thank you to YWP!

I was recently published in the Rutland Herald newspaper with my prompt, "How to be a Human". I did get some positive comments from my community, and of course you guys, but today my teacher gave me a copy of the Letter to the Editor section. In this, a Rabbi from my area wrote a long note about this piece and my writing. Here's what it said: 


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