Written Works For You, By You

A woman. A room. A pattern on the wall that starts to look back. Charlotte Perkins Gilman wrote "The Yellow Wallpaper" in 1892 after her own experience with the "rest cure" — a prescription for women that mostly meant stay still, stay quiet, don't think too hard. She gave the world a warning. Some people heard it. Some people still don't. This is a story about what happ...

The room is back. I was away for a minute — moving, no WiFi, life in boxes. But the light stayed on, and now the microphone is warm again. Literally. I finally got a real mic. A Snowball Blue. No more skull headphones. So if I sound different tonight, that is why. Today: "The Overcoat" by Nikolai Gogol. Written in 1842, in St. Petersburg, Russia. A clerk named Akaky Akakievich Bashmachki...

No story this week. I'm moving, the WiFi is gone, and the room is in boxes. Instead: a personal note about why I started Written Works For You, By You, what I thought it would be, and what it became. The silence, the submissions that didn't come, the dead voices that became the point. The dog who got me through it. The notebook I found while packing. The room moves with me. It always has. It alway...

A journal found in a house in Baltimore. Dated September to October, 1922. A man named Tom receives a letter from his lost friend Arthur, gone ten years, and goes to find him. He doesn't know what he's walking into. Neither do you. M. Humphreys wrote this — but that name hid a woman. Marie Adelaide Belloc Lowndes, writing under a man's name because the world didn't think a woman co...

You know the need. A place to sit when the night is long and the heart is hollow. Somewhere with light, with someone who doesn't rush you. Somewhere to be alone without being lonely. Hemingway wrote this in 1933. An old man in a Spanish café, drinking alone. Two waiters watching him. One young, impatient, wants to go home. The other older, and he understands — the need for a clean, well-lighted pl...

You know Alcott for Little Women. This is the Alcott who wrote in the dark. A young woman, trapped in a house with a man who smiles while he takes her voice. Who tells her she's mad until she almost believes it. Who locks her away for speaking the truth. It's heavy. It builds slowly, like a room filling with water. But the fear underneath is the fear of not being believed — and that's older than 1...

A warm room for your words, whatever they are. Today: Alexei Tolstoy's 1839 folk horror, "The Family of the Vourdalak." A father hunts in the Serbian woods and returns... not quite right. The oldest son sees it first. But the house cannot hold what it has become. One voice, one microphone, no performance pressure. Just someone reading to you in the dark. I read whatever you send me — fragments, po...

A warm room for your words. This week: Chekhov's "The Bet" — fifteen years of solitude, a piano, and a mind left alone with itself. A meditation on time and what we become when no one is watching. Written Works For You, By You is a weekly podcast where I read your writing back to you — fragments, poems, screenplays, 3am thoughts, any genre. Submissions always open: writtenworksforyoubyyou@gmail.co...

A warm room for your words. We hit a thousand streams this week. A thousand times someone opened the door and sat down. Thank you for being here. Next week: 'The Bet' by Anton Chekhov — fifteen years of solitude, a piano, and a mind left alone with itself. A meditation on time and what we become when no one is watching. I read whatever you send me — fragments, poems, screenplays, 3am thoug...

Welcome back. O. Henry was a pharmacist, a ranch hand, a bank teller, and a fugitive before he was a writer. He wrote this while he was hiding from the law, and you can feel it — two kidnappers who think they've got it all figured out, and a kid who absolutely refuses to cooperate. It's funny, it's ridiculous, and it's somehow deeply human. O. Henry sent this out into the world not knowing if anyo...

Season 2 opens with Matthew Pelton — the writer who gave us "Dear Mr. Supertramp..." during the break. This time: four friends at a boarding school, one last night, one fire. A goodbye that doesn't feel like a goodbye yet. Check out his website: Website : ⁠Quaywood Productions Recorded in one voice. One fire. One promise: "No matter how many slices you end up eating, I'll be...

A break between seasons, but the room stays open. This week: a poem from Matthew Pelton — screenwriter, award-winning short film writer, poet. A Creative Writing major turned filmmaker, currently completing his master's in directing and writing narrative fiction. "Dear Mr. Supertramp & whomever this poem may find" is a letter. A response. A confession written in the space between someone else'...

Chapter Eight. The last one for now. Tom, Petra, Jenn, and Ryan are still driving. Ten hours, then the road stops being just road. What happens there—I won't tell you. But I will say: someone tries to make it right, and someone else tries to end it. I read this one in pieces. Had to stop. Walk away. Come back. Some chapters ask that of you. Sixteen episodes in this Season. Eight chapters. Three we...

Chapter Seven. Tyrell. I wasn't sure how to voice this one. Too much happens. Too fast. I had to stop twice, walk away, come back. Some stories ask that of you. This chapter moves from a crash to a run to a doorway that doesn't open the way it should. Tyrell is trying to get home. He's trying to protect what he loves. He's trying, and that's what breaks your heart. As always, t...

Today's voice isn't mine. Benjamin F. Bird found the podcast, sent three poems, and recorded them himself: "My Dead Acquaintances." "Memory of a Saguaro." "Rhomburiffic." Each one a different room in the same house. Find more of his work at benjaminfbird.carrd.co . And if you have words of your own: Send them to me: Instagram : @writtenworksforyoubyyou— DM me,...

Some afternoons stay with you. The quiet ones. The ordinary ones. The ones that shift before you know to look away. Chapter Six is here. Thirteen episodes now, six chapters deep, and I'm still building this room story by story. I read your words out loud—stories, poems, fragments, whatever you've written at 2am and weren't sure anyone would understand. Send them to me. Instagram, Reddi...

I remember afternoons like this one. The kind that start warm and familiar, with music playing and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be okay. The kind that don't end that way. This is Chapter Five. I read it more times than I can count, trying to find the right way to hold it. I hope I did it justice. I hope it stays with you. If you have words of your own—stories, poe...

This isn't a story episode. This is just me, taking a breath, saying thank you. To everyone who's listened. Who commented on HitRecord. Who left a review—three of you now, and every star matters. To the friend who left a comment, and to the strangers who found their way here, episode by episode. You're why I keep recording. Eleven episodes in. Four chapters deep. And I'm still here...

*The following chapters contain intense and gritty moments; listener discretion is advised.* Chapter Four finds us in a small desert hospital, where the heat outside doesn't match the layers on a man who shouldn't be cold. Dr. Petra Segura is just covering a shift—until the numbers start looking familiar in ways she can't yet explain. This chapter is shared exactly as it was written, i...

*The following chapters contain intense and gritty moments; listener discretion is advised.* Chapter Three begins mid-motion, following someone running through a world that feels off-kilter, where small choices carry weight and silence can be louder than words. Nothing is explained, yet everything matters — each sound, each hesitation, each glance asks you to lean closer. This chapter is shared ex...

In this special interlude episode, we pause the anthology to share a new excerpt from returning writer Russell Foster . This standalone piece takes place in the aftermath of devastation — where devotion is tested, vows are strained, and the cost of love is measured against violence and belief. Through mythic imagery and quiet reckoning, the story explores what remains when mercy alone is no longer...

*The following chapters contain intense and gritty moments; listener discretion is advised.* Chapter Two follows three children as an ordinary day bends into something unfamiliar. The woods feel different than they should. Sounds linger too long. What’s discovered there raises questions no one is ready to answer. This chapter unfolds slowly, allowing silence, dialogue, and small details to carry t...

Thank you for my first 5-star! You can reach me at: Instagram: @ WrittenWorksForYouByYou Reddit: WWFYBY Email: WrittenWorksForYouByYou@gmail.com

Thank you for helping me reach 500 listens! It means a ton and I appreciate every one of you! You can reach me at: Instagram: @ WrittenWorksForYouByYou Reddit: WWFYBY Email: WrittenWorksForYouByYou@gmail.com

*The following chapters contain intense and gritty moments; listener discretion is advised.* In this episode of Written Works For You, By You , we begin a new serialized anthology. A single stretch of highway. Ordinary people. Small moments that don’t seem important—until they are. This chapter unfolds slowly, allowing the listener to settle into the scene before understanding what’s happening, or...