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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“Tell Isaac and Damon and Evan to stop talking.”
That was the first thing your daughter said to you as you stepped into her room. She’d been tossing and turning all throughout the night, and finally, you’d had enough and decided to see what was up.
You look at her with slightly narrowed eyes. “Isaac and Damon and Evan?”
Last time you checked, you only had one kid. Not four.
“Yeah, they keep talking and I’m trying to sleep! Gahh, brothers can be so annoying sometimes!” She whines. She clasps her hands over her ears and winces somewhat. “They keep telling me about how they played with Alex and how they’re going to play with you tomorrow.”
You smile fondly at the mention of your partner’s name. It was pretty late, but they were often doing the night shift so you didn’t worry much.
“That’s nice, hun,” you walk over and kiss her on the forehead before making your way back to the door again. “Just go to sleep.” She gives you a wary look, so you decide to humour her – just this once. You look around the dark room, at still air that supposedly was housing three talkative boys. “Now, Isaac and Damon and Evan, please stop talking so your ‘sister’ can go to sleep.”
“You’re welcome, kiddo.”
The next morning, you’re snacking on a piece of buttered toast and a stale cup of coffee, reading the morning newspaper with considerable disinterest. There wasn’t much going on, you mused, and continued to nibble on your breakfast when you hear your daughter running down the stairs.
The coffee, you notice, tastes off. Of course – it had been sitting around for a few days, so it must’ve just ...