Young Writers Age 13-17


Welcome to Analecta, our online anthology of writing by young people!

All the work on this page has been produced by writers aged 13  to 17 from all over Ireland. Click on the title to read the work.

We welcome stories, poems, graphic fiction and plays and more from secondary school students, age 13 to 17, for inclusion on this page and  the Analecta page.

Tips for Young Writers

Fighting Words asked some experienced writers who volunteer with us for their advice for writing during these challenging times. Click to read find out more!

Click back for more tips!

How do I submit my writing?

Submit your writing to us at IMPORTANT: Please include the words Analecta Submission in the subject line.

How To Submit:

  • All submissions must come from the email address of a parent or guardian. By submitting a story, parent/guardians grant permission for it to be published on the Fighting Words website and social media.

  • Include your name, age and county if you want us to be able to credit you.

  • We welcome writing in all forms, in English or Irish, including

    • poetry

    • prose

    • scripts

    • graphic fiction

    • short stories

    • flash fiction

  • Abstracts from longer pieces, or proposals for serialisation, will also be considered. Stories, prose, and scripts should be less than 3000 words, flash fiction should be less than 1000 words, graphic fiction up to 10 pages, and poems no more than 40 lines..

More information and previous work can be found here.

Fighting Words reserves the right not to publish content that contravenes our Equal Opportunities and/or Child and Vulnerable Adult Protection Policy.

Fáiltímid roimh scéalta, roimh fhilíocht, roimh fhicsean grafach agus roimh dhrámaí chomh maith le neart eile ó dhaltaí meánscoile, aois 13 go 17, le cur san áireamh in Analecta, ár mbailiúchán ar líne.

Conas a sheolfaidh mé mo scéal chugaibh?

Seol do chuid scéalta chugainn ag TÁBHACHTACH: Le bhur dtoil, cuir na focail Iarratas Analecta i líne an ábhair.

Chun an scéal a sheoladh:

  • Ní mór do na hiarratais ar fad teacht ó sheoladh ríomhphoist tuismitheora nó caomhnóra. Nuair a sheoltar scéal chugainn, ceadaíonn tuismitheoirí/caomhnóirí don scéal a bheith foilsithe ar láithreán gréasáin Fighting Words agus ar na meáin shóisialta.

  • Seol d'ainm, d'aois agus an contae ar as thú má theastaíonn uait go mbeidh siad le feiceáil.

  • Fáiltímid roimh ghach saghas scríbhneoireachta, i mBéarla nó i nGaeilge, lena n-áirítear: 

    • filíocht

    • prós

    • scripteanna

    • ficsean grafach

    • gearrscéalta

    • flash fiction

  • Glacfar freisin le hachoimrí do phíosaí níos faide, nó moltaí do shraith scríbhneoireachta. Ní mór do scéalta, prós, agus scripteanna a bheith faoi 3000 focal, ní mór do flash fiction a bheith faoi 1000 focal, suas le 10 leathanach don fhicsean grafach agus gan dul thar 40 líne do dhánta.

Fighting Words reserves the right not to publish content that contravenes our Equal Opportunities and/or Child and Vulnerable Adult Protection Policy.

Fighting Words wishes to acknowledge the support of Creative Ireland for this programme #CreativeIreland #InThisTogether


By Cassie, aged 16, Co Tyrone

It’s February 2020, 
and life runs normal here.
There are people at work, planes in the sky,
students at school, many cars go by.
There have been rumours of a new virus,
but it’s nowhere near us.


le Katie Ní Shúilleabháin

D’athraigh ár saol mar a bhí ar 12 Márta ,

Nuair a tháinig Covid ón tSín,

Leo ag cur comhairle fud fad na tíre,

Sealed Fate

By  Luke 16, Dublin

Birth is a wonderful thing, most people dream of starting a family from a young age. But as the world and society ages, that attitude has been evolving into nothing more than a reality you see in media and television. It’s a miracle to see parents with more than two kids these days.

Vicky Price has feared the responsibility of owning a child since she was only six years old, holding a doll for the first time, realising how much power she held over this piece of plastic–which in no way resembled a newborn–and how this toy relied on her for life. That thought was scarred and sewn into her brain, locked in for life, she could never handle that level of responsibility.

A lot of people have a similar mindset, especially since life is changing from what it was hundreds of years ago. As a species, we are forgetting our primal roots, we are a society, not primates, made up of careers, homes, friends, hobbies. Babies start to drop on that list, at least when they are planned. Most families today are formed through the unexpected, and while the traditional family dream fades away to the dust that lays on your windowsill and old game consoles, accidental pregnancies begin to take over the modern family.

Titles and Prompts

By Maria

"For christ sake Bob, you can't work at a catholic helpline and tell all your calls you worship the seven gods of the shire or that satan watches them bathe" yells the bossman, a bright red vein sticking out of his slimy pale skin.

"It's Robert".

"I don't care if its Finnelston the third, get out, you've had your fun" he roars trying not curse in front of the nuns. He pushes me out the office door, making sure to slam it in my smirking face.

The Sad, Sad Life of John Jeffson

By Ciaran

Write a short story in which the central character is a rebellious teenager (male or female).

‘Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.’ Went the announcer as the train departed from the station, slow at first but building up speed frighteningly quickly. John Jeffson always felt slightly alarmed when the trains did that. He could never shake the little niggling fear that the train would start going too fast and miss a turn or go flying off the rails. He, of course, knew that such a thing would never happen and even if it did, the train was underground for Pete’s sake! If the train fell off the track, there wouldn’t be enough room for it to go sprawling. The train would probably just scrape against the wall for a few uncomfortable minutes before the driver stopped it and everyone got out safe and sound. 

The Tattoo Parlour

By Ciaran

Write a short story in which a tattoo plays an important part in the narrative

Another satisfied customer had just left the parlour when Greg Gates looked up at the clock and noticed that it was around quarter to six, about time to start closing up. Greg looked around and noticed that he was the last person in the parlour. Ink Incorporated was hardly the most successful business at the best of times but the frequent storms over the past month had meant most people were battening down the hatches at home instead of heading over to the local tattoo parlour to get inked. Greg wondered to himself if it was perhaps the location of the parlour that held the business back. A small, rural Irish village isn’t exactly the best place for a tattoo parlour to flourish.

The Terrible Secret of Ian Punt

By Ciaran

Write a short story in which a photograph, or a set of photographs, plays a part in the plot.

Ian Punt was born with a gift. Ever since he could remember, Ian had the unique and somewhat concerning ability to freeze time whenever he put a finger to his forehead. As long as his finger stayed on his forehead, time would completely freeze until he removed the finger. When he was still just a child, he hadn’t realised that this was something most people couldn’t do and he used to freeze time with total abandon. He always assumed that whenever anyone else put their fingers to their heads, they were pulling the trick too. Whenever he saw a detective on TV put their fingers on their heads, he assumed they were giving themselves time to think. That was what made sense to him. 


By Catherine

Here is how men will sell you war
they sell it quick and slick and not a lick of grime
it is in the television sheen and on IMAX screens
and it is written on their teeth and so sublime


By Lucy, age 13 - Dublin

My eyes slowly open. It's too early in the morning to even hear myself think. I reluctantly pull myself out of bed.

The house was ghostly; you could have heard a pin drop. I put on the lightest slippers I could find, I tried so hard to tread lightly, I didn't want to make a single noise, for something so small could wake up the whole family and ruin their day.

It’s funny to think that something so small that you do could have a rippling affect and ruin others people’s day.

Elizabeth Martins

By Andrea

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Martins smiled a sad smile at the camera. Her bottom lip quivered as she held in her cries. Elizabeth was wearing her mother’s thick woolly cardigan, a knee length skirt and a grey wool bucket hat. A white label hung limply off a brown string from around her neck, as if she was a parcel. Her younger brother Tomas was terrified and crying and Elizabeth was unable to comfort him. Tomas was clutching his teddy bear and blanket, one in each hand. The youngest, their little sister Mary Lou, was excited to go to their new home.

A Little Sign of Hope

By Jenny  age 16

12th of April 1872.

That’s my guess on today’s date. That means its day 386. I squint up at the small lick of daylight coming from the only window in our ward. My guess is 8:30am. I scribble this information into the diary I keep hidden under my mattress right next to the sharp spring that has broken through the fabric. I hide the diary away quickly before the staff come in with our morning meds. Any form of books are strictly forbidden at Sunshine psychiatric hospital.  As I look around at the dark dreary ward and the glassy eyed patients, I don’t believe that ‘sunshine’ is how I’d describe this place. 

An Fear Óir

By Seánna, Coláiste Feirste. Rannóg 2: Dan

Ar bhuail tú riamh leis an “Fear an Chroí Óir”?

Bhuail mise leis, agus mise a rá leat, ní fíor na rudaí a deir siad​

Bhí sé i bhfolach taobh thiar de bhrat rúndachta agus de shaobhadh

The Golden Man

By Seánna  age 13, Coláiste Feirste, Co. Aontroma

Have you ever met the “Man with a heart of gold”?

No? I did. Trust me when I say, what they say are lies.

He hid behind a veil of secrecy and distortion

Torthaí Searbha

Éabha Aois: 17 - Co. na Gaillimhe.

Dhúisigh Sadhbh go tobann. Bhí sí stiúgtha leis an ocras. Bhí an ghrian ag scaladh tríd an fhuinneoigín bheag, ag soilsiú an seomra. Bhí spideoigín bheag ina shuí ar leac na fuinneoige agus é ag canadh go binn. D’éirigh sí amach as an leaba go cúramach, ní raibh sí ag iarraidh Máire a dhúiseach. Bhí sé fós an-luath agus bhí chuile dhuine fós ina gcodladh. Shiúil sí isteach sa gcistineach go ciún agus bhreathnaigh sí isteach sa gcófra adhmaid. Ní raibh dóthain bia ann, ná baol ar. Ní raibh ann ach sciar leite do dhuine amháin. Lig sí osna aisti. Bhí a fhios aici go raibh cúrsaí go dona ach baineadh geit aisti. 

The Creators’ Rebellion

Anna - age 14

We all love fairy tales. Everyone knows the story of Sleeping Beauty. Most people know about the Twilight series. We have all heard of talking animals or witches. What if I told you, all these fictional stories and films you’ve seen, all the creatures featured in them, are actually real? Yes, you read that right. All the supernatural creatures you have read about in books and seen on television are real. Vampires, fairies, werewolves, mermaids, you name it, they all actually exist. If you find that shocking or scary, then brace yourself, because there’s more. You probably walk past one of these creatures, a couple times a day. Honestly, you have probably spoken to one, without even knowing it.

The Mark

By Banbha

34 days left and I focus on only that.  Jack’s breathing is quicker now and I can feel the fear rattling through his body.  My calves feel like rocks having crouched for so long.  I find his hand in the sliver of moonlight.

“What if we die” he whispers.

“I’d rather die together than have the mark take one of us”.

I take a step forward, I’ve been waiting for this for too long.