Greetings, Salutations, and All that Jazz...

I'm a 57-year-old veteran, aspiring writer, lifelong Dungeon Master/D&D aficionado, lifelong KISS fan (obviously), and a gamer since the days of PONG! in the 70s.

I've never had any formal training in writing other than composition, American Literature, and English classes in Jr High and High School. Those classes I pretty much got D's in because I was bored and couldn't just write about things I didn't like. I had to be inspired by more than essays and book reports. UGH!

When I write, I'm not like other writers with notes, outlines etc. I am the embodiment of chaos—I improvise.

My mind is a whirlwind of wild ideas, shaped by years as a Dungeon Master and a relentless “What if...?” mindset. If it sounds off-the-wall, odds are it will end up on paper. Ares can attest to this, he now owns a space station. More accurately a Death Star.

A few months ago I finished my 127,000+ epic (hopefully the first in a trilogy).

I've been approached by numerous publishing houses and agents, but they all want money up front. Sometimes THOUSANDS.

Through my own research, I've found that reputable publishers and agents pay the writer for their manuscripts, NOT the other way around. The literary field is riddled with landmines for writers like myself who have no idea what they're doing or who to trust. BUT I do know enough to stay away from organizations who require me to pay them for the "privilege" of them publishing my work.

I'm here, thanks to a fellow writer (Tamsin Liddell) who saw the same things I saw at another website (it shall remain nameless) and recommended TNBW.

That other website, through my own experience and publicly available information raised questions for me and many others who were posting stories there.

The following list of things that made me pause is NOT intended to accuse or defame:

1. Judging Panel Transparency
The website lists HUNDREDS of judges; at least 200 of those appear to lack bios, credentials, or any visible writing experience. This absence of editorial background makes it difficult to assess the integrity of the selection process.

I recently received an email from a representative who, in response to my query, stated: “Bios aren't required, it's totally fine for judges to be new to the platform.”

This response confirmed that a lack of public credentials is an intentional part of the selection process, which further reinforces my concern about the experience of the judging panel.

2. Lack of Conflict-of-Interest Policy
I did locate that judges are STILL able to participate in contests. I quote the rules directly below omitting the website name:

"As a judge, you'll get the following perks:
- You’ll have a hand in shaping Prompts community of over 640,000 writers.
- You'll be featured on the ***** Prompts judges page, allowing you to introduce yourself to other writers and readers.
- YOU'LL STILL BE ABLE TO PARTICIPATE IN OUR WEEKLY CONTEST."

THIS IS A CLEAR CONFLICT OF INTEREST!

Having judges, who are supposed to be impartial, entering the same contest they are judging is akin to the fox guarding the henhouse—a setup that undermines trust in impartiality.

3. Compressed Judging Timeline
Entries were “screened” and then hopefully “accepted” up until the day before a winner and short-listed stories are announced. With the volume of weekly submissions, this turnaround seems far too short for meaningful editorial review.

It raised questions about whether stories were being read with care, or simply skimmed for surface-level appeal.

4. Winner Trends
I noticed a recurring pattern of first-time entrants winning and then disappearing from the platform. While this may be coincidental, the frequency raises questions about continuity and community engagement.

It’s hard to build a literary culture when winners vanish and long-time contributors are rarely acknowledged, beyond being short-listed.

5. Broad Licensing Terms
The submission agreement includes a “non-exclusive, irrevocable, perpetual, transferable, sub-licensable, worldwide, royalty-free license.” While I understand the need for publication rights, the scope of this clause feels disproportionate to the lack of ANY compensation.

Writers had to pay to submit, and in return, they surrendered broad usage rights—often without knowing how, where, or when their work will be reused, translated, or edited.

6. Marketing Emails
Whether submitting stories or not—I received promotional emails offering paid coaching, masterclasses, and publishing packages. While these services may be helpful to some, their timing and tone felt more like sales outreach than literary support.

The contest began to feel less like a celebration of craft and more like a funnel into paid services.

7. Lack of Feedback
Despite submitting dozens of entries, I NEVER received ANY editorial feedback or constructive critique from ANY of the HUNDREDS of judges. The absence of engagement made the process feel transactional rather than communal.

For emerging writers, feedback is often more valuable than a prize—and its absence is deeply felt.

8. Shared Concerns Among Entrants
I had spoken with numerous other writers who had noticed the same patterns—opaque judging, disappearing winners, and aggressive upselling.

9. Legal and Ethical Implications
While this DOES NOT accuse ****** of violating consumer laws, it raises legitimate questions that could be relevant under certain jurisdictions:

•     Conflict of Interest: Allowing judges to participate in the same contest they help adjudicate could be seen as deceptive or unfair under consumer protection standards—especially if entrants are paying to participate.

•     Licensing Terms vs. Compensation: The broad rights granted to Reedsy, combined with the lack of compensation, might raise concerns under unfair contract provisions—particularly if writers are unaware of how their work could be reused.

•     Marketing Practices: If promotional emails are triggered by contest submissions and framed as literary support, but function primarily as sales funnels, that could be viewed as misleading advertising.

WHEN A COMMUNITY BEGINS TO FEEL LIKE A MARKETPLACE, SOMETHING ESSENTIAL IS LOST.

Needless to say, I removed my stories from that other website, reclaimed my voice, and took my proverbial ball and went home.

I look forward to sharing my stories here and engaging with all of you.

So travel with thy pen and parchment in hand to a land where chaos is the only order.