The Future of Collaborative Fiction
StoryMash, the future of collaborative fiction. A creative writing community for authors, amateur writers, readers and anyone interested in collaborative fiction and collaborative creative writing.
Authors and writers hone your creative writing skills. Collaborate on new fiction stories, or branch an existing fiction story in a different direction by writing the next chapter or even a chapter into its middle!
Authors, earn money for every chapter you write and self-publish on StoryMash. StoryMash rewards your creative writing talents by sharing at least 50% of the advertisement revenue.
Register to be a new StoryMash author today!
Readers participate in the collaborate writing community. Vote for your favorite chapters and influence which plots get written next. Provide your feedback, praise, and criticism to authors about their creative writing in discussions attached to every chapter.
While reading one of our great fiction stories, if the story doesn't continue the way you want or have a great idea on what should happen next and catch the collaborate writing bug, register to write a follow up chapter!
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Houses with a well-kept garden are a delightful sight in any neighborhood, a notion which he was not too bothered with. His house was easily distinguished by the weed infested lawn that was littered by leaves from previous autumns.
The paint on the outside of the house was peeling off in patches of different sizes. He walked along the cracked path leading to his front door and entered into darkness. The curtains were permanently drawn, he needed all the privacy he could get, especially with all those kids in the neighborhood always nosing around his house. Those kids either had neglectful parents or they were just too curious for their own good. Maybe he should think investing in a guard dog.
Floors and rugs in the house were filled with footprints imprinted on a thin layer of dirt, and the stairs leading down to the basement seemed no better. Under a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling stood his workbench. Probably the only part of the house that has seen a broom and mop once in a while. He was just too busy to be bothered by these trivial needs of cleanliness, at least he took a shower every day and did his laundry at least once a month.
Slowly, he removed the handkerchief from his pocket and emptied the contents into a peculiar looking jar. He stared at the jar for close to an hour and pondered how he could make it all permanent, where there was no need to go out for sand all the time. His heart pulsated when an idea suddenly popped into his. He let out a tiny smile, but nobody was there to see it.
Bringing the idea to fruition was not going to be easy, he needed time to prepare. Being prepared lessened the ...