YWP Content Published in Newspapers

Young Writers Project is most grateful to its eight newspaper partners who publish your work on a regular basis. Weekly: Burlington Free Press and The Valley News. Monthly: St. Albans Messenger, Brattleboro Reformer, Rutland Herald (and Reader), Times Argus (and Extra), Bradford Journal Opinion and Charlotte News.

The papers have a combined circulation of nearly 75,000 and the papers are read by well over 150,000 people.

YWP staff, volunteers and Community Leaders from this site help select work.  If you'd like to help with this process, contact Susan Reid.


Sep 27
fiction 0 comments challenge: Never
Gentchos's picture

Black Lives Matter

Two hands behind my head

Not a single weapon near me except the one you held.

I was being robbed of my sanity

Not only my store, my life, but my sanity

I didn’t move

I dare not move or else I could get shot

I wish I could tell you what happened but I can’t

You’ll shoot

I wish I could tell you how I had a family but

You’ll shoot

I dare not speak a word because

You’ll shoot

I was the manager of a store

I went to college

I married the love of my life

I had beautiful kids

And yet the only thing I could think of was you

I heard another man yelling at my employee

Asking him where security tapes were

I dare not move

You’ll shoot

I heard the rumble of the tapes starting up

The policeman's eyes glued to the tape
Sep 26
AboutToSnap's picture

Leaf and Feet

Sep 23
Widyawatie's picture

Disowned Barbie

I braved your grubby fingers on my nice, smooth skin
Yet you still threw me away
I played dress up with you
Yet you still threw me away
I accepted the name Bimbly
Yet you still threw me away
I let you pop my arms out
Yet you still threw me away
I let you put my head in your mouth
Yet you still threw me away
I even dated that dreaded, boy Ken

And yet you still threw me away
What have I done to you to deserve
The trash bin
The garbage truck
The dumpster
And now I’m in the landfill

It’s true I’m a toy
It’s true I’m a Barbie
It’s true I was friend to a girl who disowned me

But I have feelings, too

Sep 21
CrazyBluePanda's picture

If I dream

I am a dreamer, a writer, a child
I wonder if I dream, will my dreams come true?
I hear a raven, wheeling through the sky
I see a young child, playing in the mud
I want to see a wish being granted
I am a dreamer, a writer, a child
I pretend to fly as I leap around the mirrored room
I feel the clouds part for me as I soar
I touch the sun, and pull its warmth down to earth
I worry for the children with no place to call home
I cry for loss and poverty
I am a dreamer, a writer, a child
I understand that I am a grain of sand in an ocean
I say, let us be free
I dream of peace and magic
I try to always find the good before the bad
I hope that I will someday make my dreams come true
I am a dreamer, a writer, a child
Sep 21
danabibb's picture

The Lost Toy

"Oh no!" George said when he was being walked over to the garbage. He had been broken by his owner's younger sister, Stacey. Now George the toy was being thrown away. "Pleeaasseee don't throw me away!" George yelled, but of course his owner Jack couldn't hear him because he was just a toy.

Sometimes I hate being a toy, George thought to himself. He was hanging upside down and, thanks to Stacey, he had no legs. George's heart was beating so fast, or at least he thought he had a heart. He didn't even know if he had a heart. Then he corrected himself. He DID HATE being a toy.

There he was, the trash can only a few human feet away. Then Jack opened the lid and cautiously dropped George in. "My legs!" George found his legs and using his arms, he raced to them. Finally, he got to his legs and reattached them. Then all of a sudden, there was a big BANG! The garbage truck was now picking him up. He was upside down again.
Sep 21

My Childhood

One bright morning,
the dew clung
to the grass so green.
We came to a path
in the winding forest
that diverged into a bridge.
I braced myself,
took a deep breath,
as the moldy wood creaked
under each step.
Yet I continued to walk.
Sep 21
DSkyeDeMarse's picture

The Bounty

Early morning,
the Carolina winds blow blissfully.
Water rigid,
an aquatic sanctuary.

I grow peaceful,
great excitement ensues.
My fishing pole was quiet,
but now shakes tempestuously.
Reeling in with anticipation
I await my bounty.
Stannic scales,
that shine like silver.

I release my bounty,
into the water below.

Sep 20

Small, Stupid, Little Things That Don't Matter To Anyone Else But Me

Today in class
while we were sitting side by side
our ankles were touching
barely there.

But still there. 

I felt your skin through my jeans
through yours.

I smiled, hiding this secret between my teeth
like a piece of hard candy
to savor until it's gone
too soon
like when the bell rang and you got up
leaving me to collect my thoughts. 
Sep 20
fiction 0 comments challenge: Never

the shooting

I sat in my car, watching the people outside my window. I intended to keep my reputation of being a reliable cop tonight. A homeless man ambled along, pushing a shopping cart. I looked up and saw a college student on a balcony, drinking something. She looked at the sky for a moment and then went into her apartment, turning off the light. There were some people on a bench about a half-block away, gathered in a dark corner. They were all huddled in close, and kept looking over at me. The leader seemed to be a man in a blue shirt that had a thick white stripe in the middle of it. I decided to get out of my car and look at the constellations. I could identify a few, but I wasn’t very familiar with them. My son had had a telescope when he was younger, and learned a lot about the stars. He told me about them, but I had forgotten most of what he had said. I looked back over at the bench, and saw Blue Shirt walking toward me.
Sep 19
gretasmith's picture



I fear outer space. I fear the unknown. Not knowing what's out there, where it ends. Does it even have an end? I fear something that no one has explored. The fact that there's no oxygen. Why can we breathe the oxygen on Earth, but not there?  I fear how there is nowhere to hide in space. Nowhere to sit, stand, lie down. It's all just space. If you were to get lost out there, there would be no way for people to find you. You'd just be floating there. How do you move in space? Where is the bottom? Where is the top? You have no concept of time, no concept of where you are. There are deadly things out there that no human has ever explored. Maybe I'm not scared. Maybe I just don’t know. Maybe that's what I'm scared of. Not knowing.