simplyprose is a project that aims to:

combat writer's block.
offer dA writers a place to feature their work without a selection process.
offer critique and resources to writers who want to improve their prose.

However, we don't feature just anything. We will only feature work inspired by, and written specifically for simplyprose.

Please remember that we accept prose only (the clue is in our name). This can be any type of prose - fiction, non-fiction, drama etc. - but never poetry.

This is not a competition. If a simplyprose prompt is competitive, a contest will be announced, with a full news article giving the details. If there is no mention of a contest in the prompt (which will almost always be the case), you are not writing to compete and all submissions will receive the same treatment.


On the first day of every month, a new set of prompts will appear in our journal. There will be:
a scenario prompt.
a character prompt.
a word association prompt.
a miscellaneous prompt.

You can take whatever inspiration you like from the prompts. You can write on any of them individually, or any combination, any number of times. When you are happy with your piece, upload it as a deviation or scrap and note a link to the simplyprose account, specifying which prompt you are writing for. There is no word limit - you are the best judge of how long or short your piece needs to be.

For more information on what to expect, who is behind all of this and what to do if you are unhappy, click here.

There is no joining process. If you want to get involved, all you have to do is watch the project and note us with your submissions.


Daily Deviations

If a piece you have written for simplyprose is selected for a Daily Deviation feature, please alert ThornyEnglishRose. The piece will then be featured on our shoutboard the next time it is updated.

Monthly News Feature

Every month, our news feature coordinator will submit a news article featuring all of that month's submissions. We would be grateful if you could take a moment to fave each monthly feature, if you watch the project. It allows us more exposure, and also helps to acknowledge the hard work that goes into these features.

Deleting Submissions

One of the most irritating things people have done to us is to send us a submission, and then delete it, leaving us with a broken link until somebody noticed it. We would like to avoid this in the future. Please either:

1. Do not submit anything to us if you are not totally happy with it. If there is any chance you may remove your deviation, don't send it.

2. If you do send us a submission, and then decide to remove the deviation, let us know! Please send a note with the title of your piece, and which prompt you wrote it for.

Thank you for respecting this request.

Non-Acceptance/Non-Appearance of Submissions

It is very rare for us not to accept submissions, but it has been known. We have, for example, received pieces that we consider to be poetry, or some people have simply failed to understand what it is that we feature and sent us all manner of things. Of course, if you have read this journal carefully, you will know what it is we want and you will only send in prose inspired by our prompts.

If for any reason we cannot accept your submission, we will reply to your note with a full explanation. If we do accept your submission (which we almost always do), you will not receive a reply to your note, but you should see your piece featured in our journal within a few days at the most. If after sending in your submission you do not see it featured, or you have not received a note saying that we cannot accept it, then this is merely an oversight. Again, this is rare, but if it ever happens to you then please do let us know in another note.

If we disagree on what constitutes prose, and we send you a note saying that we do not consider your piece to be prose, please don't argue. We will have considered it, and tried to work out your reasoning, before coming to the conclusion that we cannot accept the piece. It is up to you to decide whether or not you consider your piece to be prose, of course, just as it is up to us to decide what we are and are not prepared to feature. On this matter, our word is final.

And Finally...

If you want to read even more about the project's history, aims and promises, click on All New Simplyprose!

We are not taking suggestions for prompts at this time. Please do not suggest prompts or ask us about suggesting prompts.

Thanks as always for your support!


...our new critique and commenter, choirsoftheheavens. She will be critiquing and commenting on your scenario and word association prompt responses, and with a wealth of experience working for dA clubs, I'm sure she'll do a fantastic job. I hope you'll make her feel very welcome.



This means that we must say goodbye to Friedemann. We would like to take this opportunity to thank him for everything he's done, and to wish him well.


Scenario Prompt:

Something goes wrong while someone is baking a cake.

Character Prompt:

This character is a toy. Any kind of toy, any age, any condition.

Word Association Prompt:

Satin, insomnia, drowning.

Remember that all three words must appear in the body of your piece. Pieces that do not contain all three words will not be accepted.

Miscellaneous Prompt:

Did you notice? No holiday-related prompts this year. Yet! There are bound to be plenty of holiday-related writing projects, prompts and competitions around, but call us unoriginal - we don't want to be left out! For our miscellaneous prompt, we would like you to incorporate two December holidays into a piece of prose. No more and no less, bar passing mentions if it is absolutely unavoidable, thank you very much.


Scenario Prompt:

Pat-A-Cake, Pat-A-CakeLaurence looked at the mess he made with defeated blue eyes. Flour covered his face, clothes, and hair, causing him to resemble either a ghost or someone who had been scared out of their wits. Egg yolk dripped from the tip of Laurence's nose and onto the counter in front of him. Milk was splattered in a small puddle on the floor. That puddle had grown larger, thanks to Laurence constantly slipping and sliding on it. Five was not his lucky number, for that was how many times it took Laurence to slide on the tile before he slipped with all of his hard work, all ready to be baked, in his hands.
The bowl of strawberry cake batter that Laurence had worked so hard to mix was now sitting on the top of his head. The thick mass was slowly dripping its way down Laurence's cheeks and slopping onto his shoulder like globs of pink mud. A frown slowly grew on Laurence's face as he felt the batter plopping onto his shoulders heavily. He almost felt like crying.
All of his work was currently upside do by nikkynikki

Bailey's CakeSusan hummed to herself as she set the oven to preheat for Bailey's birthday surprise. OK, so maybe it wasn't going to be much of a surprise with her sitting there watching, but it's the thought that counts, right? She paused in her preparations to lean over and give the black and tan German shepherd a scratch behind its silky soft ears. Bailey panted and thumped her tail against the floor, always eager for more attention.
Susan thought about her while she greased the cake tin. Ten was a big year for a dog, especially one of Bailey's size. She had been such a good friend for all their years together, it was hard to imagine that someday soon they would be parted prematurely. She couldn't ignore the ever-thickening sprinkling of white hairs that graced the dog's dark muzzle.
No, this is too depressing, she told herself, think of something else. Anything else.
The cake. If she could just focus on that it would drive all those unwanted thoughts away. She looked at the dog bir by Leonca

Character Prompt:

GloriaThe shop is buzzing with customers. Mostly children looking at all the dangerous predators; the lions, the leopards, the cheetahs. Even though they wouldn't hurt me, they still scare me and my family. They are really popular. Only 4 of them left, and about 17 of us. It's obvious, nobody wants a gazelle. With our dull brown and white fur and unusual black markings, nobody wants a boring creature that isn't even seen at the zoo.
Every child is holding a cheetah. I don't blame them. They are beautifully made, with black flower patterns on their beige coats.
Their brown button eyes gleaming at us, saying "Look at us! Everyone wants us!"
They're right. Everyone wants them.
But, what's this? A little girl, holding one of those elegant toys, is looking up at me. There's something intriguing about her curly red hair and her unique brown eyes. A strange combination.She smiles, showing the gaps in her teeth. I try to smile back, but my thread mouth refuses to move. She turns, no don't go!
"Jacki by GraniteQuartz

I want that oneShe sat on the shelf of the toy store, her glazed, wooden arms limp and her thin legs dangling off of the edge. She had curly, honey-blonde hair that was cut short, but still had a lot of curl everywhere. She wore a forest-green, long-sleeved, velvet dress that almost covered her delicately-carved feet entirely, its lacy red trim on the collar, sleeves, and skirt.
Her name was Poinsettia. What a depressing yet lovely name for such a beautiful, ball-joined doll.
The toy store was mostly empty except for the old man who ran the shop and stood at the counter, like he always did. Poinsettia was hand-crafted by him, if her memory told her correctly. Since then, she had admired and loved him as a father, although she was just a doll who could not express her feelings.
A light ringing sound ran out through the silent emptiness, and a little girl and her father walked through. The little girl was wearing an ebony overcoat over a forest-green, velvet dress which had a short skirt and the most f by yasai-juice

ManateeI'm not really important, but I make do. And that's fine with me. I'm not even that old. Maybe a year or so older than the hot shot newer toys, but not old enough to hold a status among the stuffed animals she sleeps with every night. I'm just an average bedroom citizen. But I have stories of sorts. And every child's toy knows that it's a story that counts. Stories are the backbone of everything mystical and true, and stories are what last. We toys don't last very long at all, but when you can tell a story…then it doesn't matter that your eyes are falling out, that the dog chewed your left hand last Saturday. Stories elevate us. They almost make us feel like books. And that is a feeling of worth!
My name is Urban. Francesca is a very smart girl. She said that she named me after the Pope that gave the crown to Charlemagne a long time ago. He was called Pope Urban. But since I'm only a manatee filled with plastic pellets, she felt that it would be socially misleading to leave "Pope" by thelumpy

Replaced -a toy storyI hated Barbie dolls. Their pouty lips, their tiny waists, their "I'm so much better than you could ever dream to be" attitude. I hated everything about them. Especially being replaced by them.
My life began the moment Mom sewed up my back. My button eyes could suddenly see, my not-actually-present ears could hear, and all of my stuffing was warm with the love she put in to me, a simple rag doll for her unborn girl. She put me down on the table and smiled, leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed and a hand on her pregnant belly.
Suddenly her face scrunched up in pain. She gripped the chair arm and screamed "Honey!" Dad ran in and helped her out of the chair, and then they both rushed to the hospital. They came back eventually with a bundle named Mallory in Mom's arms.
Mallory was a beautiful little girl. She had lovely little brown eyes, and really soft blonde hair, and was actually quite agreeable, for a baby. Sure she never listened to me, and when she was teething she wouldn' by Brookyms123

Word Association Prompt:

InsomniaI roll over in my bed once more, my arms spread wide like my legs, trying to ward off this heat that plagues me. I cannot sleep, I can never sleep. I close my eyes, drift away to the music, but my mind, it keeps me awake, alert, it keeps me on edge.
But I toss, and I toss again, I roll and I turn and I struggle to fight the endless battle for unconsciousness, but it is an uphill battle and I can climb no further. I'm drowning in these satin sheets as I move unending. This war I wage for dreams, it tears me apart.
This insomnia, it will not leave, no matter how I beg. It feels like fiery stones cascading over a bloody field as two opposing armies clash against each other in a storming fury of shields and swords.  They strike upon each other with the strength of Gods, one side my mind, the other this insomnia that guards my prize, the fading mists of sleep.
But the alarm buzzes, and I turn my head to face morning. The soldiers drop their weapons as I wake, battered and bruised by itsaki

Meme-like Affair
Dear part of my misguided life, to whom this will be goodbye,
I am scared to admit it, but I already miss you, I want you. You have a nice ring to your name and a taste I can't begin to forget, but I must try. You make me shiver in ecstasy of the memory of your smell I can't shake - and I almost feel guilty about it.
You should release me, just let me forget your number (and you), I cannot call you anymore. Someday I will be strong enough to stop this, end this insomnia you leave lingering in my rooms in your absence as my constant companion.
You + me = now a misconception, can't you see.
If I saw you now I'd never be able to take my arms from around you, this is why it must end before we meet again. I want to - I probably shouldn't be saying this, - to be drowning in satin sheets together with you.
I would build a web of lies, I would lie to all to be with you, you know it, I have done it, all of it, just for you. If I could sing you any song it would be the song of birds, the ul by helekri

Mature Content

by Leonca

AnnabelleAnnabelle
December 30, 2009
He supposed there was nothing that could cure insomnia better than having a new baby in the house. Every move he made through the day felt lethargic and forced. His feet didn't even have the will to lift up off the carpeted floors as he walked, opting instead to drag and shuffle along, leaving faint ruts in the fabric wherever he went. Pulling a shirt over his head after a rushed, two-minute-long shower was very nearly out of the question, as his arms were so bone-weary that they couldn't have cared less if the plain white fabric covered his shoulders or not. It was fatigue, as he'd never felt it before.
But God was she gorgeous.
Every 2am feeding, every precious tear, every tiny cry of pleasure, every move she made had him drowning even further in the all-consuming love blossoming through his veins. He'd drag his feet through the valleys and over mountains to have those immense brown eyes capture his soul again and again. To feel those dainty fingers by WitheredLilies

Miscellaneous Prompt:

Yule At M'sydia"And the messenger has just returned from Hagal lands up north.  They decline."
Loremaster Crowley blinked and therefore missed Dean Frik's short sigh of disappointment.
"Wellthat'sashame,butIguessit'snotreallyunexpected," the gnome said.  "They'veneveragreedtoparticipatebeforesothere'snoreasontoexpecttheywouldnow."
"No, I suppose there . . ."
"Howaboutthecoalfurnace?Idon'twantthegrandhallgettingcoldlikeitdidlastyear."
Crowley took a moment to sort the words from each other, his bushy brown eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he stroked his prematurely graying beard.  Frik always made the Loremaster nervous.  Not just that he was fast – all gnomes were fast – but Frik was also impatient and prone to making rash decisions.  Decisions like having an annual multi-cultural week to demonstrate the diverse holidays celebrated by the students on campus.  The provost had thought it was an excellent idea, provided that he d by Freyad-Dryden

You are encouraged to read and comment on these submissions.



If it's poetry you want, check out our sister project, simplypoetry!

Scribblers-Anonymous is quite simply a place where writers can share their work, be it poetry or prose. They love simplyprose, so obviously they have good taste. Check them out!

Writers-Slam: the audio-literary experience! Listen to dA writers reading their own and/or other deviants' work.

ProsePlease is an all-round prose club that brings you all the latest news and features, as well as contests and activities all their own.

Prose-R-Us is a community where prose writers on dA can share and develop their ideas in a supportive and fun environment.

The-Novelist-Club features chapters of works in progress by budding novelists on dA.

writersunknown is a club that offers everything a dA writer could want: help and resources, monthly themes to inspire you and mutual support and encouragement.

Crystal-Ink is a club that offers support, inspiration and exposure, much like the rest of us. What makes them different? Their primary goal is to help you improve your writing.

Wordspill aim to inspire you with their very unique writing prompts and exercises. If you participate, there is always a feature in it for you.