Write On! Creative Writing Center Writing Contest

Scribbles the Squirrel's Monthly Writing Contest

September Writing Contest - Write a piece about time travel. 

Open to EVERYONE! 

Send entries to writeonfrisco@gmail.com by August 30, 2023. Winners will be announced in the September Write On Newsletter. 


August Writing Contest - Write a piece where the characters start to realize that they are, in fact, just characters. 

Open to EVERYONE! 

Send entries to writeonfrisco@gmail.com by August 30, 2023. Winners will be announced in the September Write On Newsletter. 

July 2023 Writing Contest Winner ~ Eva Juneja

moving on to become someone new

we spent our middle school years together,

swore we’d be best friends,

gave each other gifts and cards,

called and texted all the time.


but now there are things i should say,

even when i don’t want to think about it.

i don’t think “bestie” should be my title anymore,

cause i’m not who i used to be.


sometimes at night,

i think of you,

right before i fall asleep,

i wonder what we could be.


all of my dreams,

made of paper cards,

burning before my eyes.

what we are searching for,

is it holding us back?

‘cause loving ain’t easy anymore,

and life’s nothing like i hoped it’d be.

but i can’t find it in myself to blame either of us,

for moving on to become someone new.


we had our years together,

happy as could be,

but we are close to dust,

letting go of who we were.


cause we ain’t who we used to be,

i’m still searching for who i am,

and you’re learning to heal again,

and we both know what we have to do.

May Writing Contest - Write a piece about an ending.

May 2023 Writing Contest Winner ~ Brandon Heit 

nothing is forever
your hands slipping away from mine, 
your words getting father and farther away
your head forgetting about me
because nothing is permanent 
not even a mountain, that will slip away too
it will erode and crumble, or it will stand until the end of time, until the cosmos explodes yet again and destroys everything 
the only permanence is time
not love, not you, not us, time
time will wear its mighty cape and triumph above us all
time can’t end, it is the end
and the start 
and the middle 
and us 
our love has expired, 
but that doesn’t mean i won’t remember it’s taste
savory, warm, sweet
hot chocolate on a cold day
but then the drink cooled
hot chocolate became cold
but it was still winter
the blizzard didn’t change for us
time didn’t wait for us
time kept going, beating us up again and again just to prove itself
we’ve ended, we’ve lost, we’re cold
i loved you, but i’m all burnt up, 
maybe when i’m dead i’ll have a nice chat with time
tell him, stop and smell the roses, and maybe he’ll say
they’ve withered
so i’ll say, remember the scent of the roses


April Writing Contest - Write a poem about spring. 

April 2023 Writing Contest Winner ~ Eva Juneja

rainy days 

i see the raindrops hit the glass,
watching as it pours outside.
i sit in the passenger side,
watching as the cars pass by.

we reach the field and park on the gravel,
grab the picnic basket we brought.
as we walk a path soaked in water,
i hum a gentle tune.

my friends walk in front of me,
while i wish for a change.
i didn’t bring an umbrella,
shivering as the rain soaks my clothes.

i can hear them talk,
but the rain draws me in.
the soft pitter-patter against the rocks,
like the world is saying ‘go on.’

the trail is uneven and rough,
mud lining the edges.
the trees are thin and frail,
water dripping off the branches.

i can feel his worried eyes on me,
offer him a small smile 
to wash away his worries
and let him take my hand.

we finally reach the place we wanted to,
a small clearing with a gazebo,
where the trees are dense and towering,
where the rain falls through gently but not lightly.

we lay out the food and drinks,
sitting underneath the gazebo
i watch as they talk,
but i ache for the rain again.

i listen to the words they say,
but it’s muddled by my thoughts.
can feel his shoulder brush mine,
a sliver of warmth in the cold.

my eyes wander to the trees,
watching as the raindrops roll off.
the world is telling me to run free,
but i’m too lonely to step into the rain.

he must notice my longing,
tells the group we’ll be back,
i tell them not to do anything stupid,
one of them nods her head.

we go on a different trail,
the trees disappearing the further we go,
till it’s just us and an open field,
with the rain pouring down.

i find a rock to sit on,
he sits right next to me,
i rest my head on his shoulder,
letting my eyes close.

exhaustion from everything hitting me at once,
trying to sort out what i feel.
he wraps his arm around my shoulder,
but i can still feel an ache under my skin.

as we walk back,
the two of us start talking about life.
the rain is still there,
a gentle reminder of the melancholy of life.

as we near the glade,
he lets go of my hand with a gentle smile,
my heart longs for his warmth,
but i let him take his place.

so with the clouded sky of gray
the rain pouring down around us,
i join them wordlessly
as if i had never left in the first place.


Honorable Mention ~  Ashrith Varanasi 

Spring’s Promise
by Ashrith Varanasi

The fragrance of early morning showers
The frozen land turns to a begrimed marsh
Washing away snow in Spring’s early hours

And with the falling rain may come a flood

Pink cherry blossoms of Prunus trees
Dandelions and tulips coat the ground
Petals are carried in the gentle breeze
And in the trees, nests and hives can be found

In Spring, before dawn, a mockingbird sings
Bears and raccoons awake from their slumber


March Writing Contest - Write a flash fiction piece that includes the word "midnight" 

March 2023 Writing Contest Winner ~ Jeevika Rao

GHOST on Sevilla Street by Jeevika Rao
It was 9:55 pm on Saturday and Kathy was reading a newspaper. The newspaper only had 45 words and the front page of the newspaper said - Beware kids on Sevilla Street: If you feel pain while you are sleeping, that means there's a ghost. After you feel pain, run as fast as you can, away from your bed, out of your house, and around the street till the ghost is gone.
Sevilla Street is my street, thought Kathy. Shortly afterward, Kathy's mom told her it was bedtime. Kathy was scared so she summarized what she read in the newspaper. Her mom told her not to worry; as ghosts don’t exist. Her mom kissed her and left. Kathy went to sleep and in the middle of her sleep, she was woken up by pain. She looked at the clock and it was midnight. She then remembered what the newspaper said.
She ran out of the house and met two of her friends. She told them to run as fast as they could because they also felt the pain and were chased by a ghost too. The friends ran for three minutes, and then the ghosts disappeared. They couldn't wait to tell their parents.