Friday Frog-hunting

Friday is here! There were far too many sleepless nights this week, between deadlines, presentations, and a sick baby, but exciting things are on the horizon! Stay tuned for some fun announcements in the next week or two.

I know I just posted one of these last week, but Rachel Carrera was kind enough to interview me over at her blog. Rachel is one of the most consistent and entertaining bloggers I’ve encountered, and she is so great at interacting with her followers! Head on over to take a look and participate in the fun games she’s posting this month.

And now on to this week’s writing prompt responses! I had two wonderful bloggers post their work in response this week:

writersdream9: Nostalgia
Emily (A Cup of English Tea): To the Grave

No email responses this week, so you’re stuck with another of mine. Happy weekend, everybody!


Find a place that fills one of your characters with nostalgia. Write a brief scene showing why that place is so important to him or her.


The twins were teasing Jean again. Dan knew that his mother was working in her office, knew that he should go collar the twins before Jean starting up with her dramatic sobbing; but, just for once, he didn’t want to be the one in charge. He wanted his dad to have a normal nine-to-five job instead of working twelve-hour days to keep his company afloat. He wanted his mother to take a turn keeping the twins under control instead of spending her days filling orders from her home office. He wanted Jack, brilliant, perfect Jack, to come home after school once in a while, to spend a day with his family instead of always getting ready for another stupid conference.

Digging to the bottom of his desk drawer, Dan retrieved his sketchbook and slipped out the back door unnoticed, cutting around the side of the house and making his way to the park down the street. He plopped down beside the mucky pond, listening to the hordes of tiny frogs chirping cheerily in the late afternoon light.

One fearless frog hopped onto the sketchbook lying beside him in the grass. Dan scooped it up without thinking, then froze as he exchanged stares with the curious little creature in his palm.

He had been eight the last time he went frog-hunting here. The end of summer, a hot day that smelled of sweat and sunburns and mischief. Dan had raced Jack all the way to the park and not cared that he lost, he adored his big brother that much. They were making the most of their final hours of freedom, embarking on one last expedition before they were trapped behind hard metal desks in the classroom.

One last expedition before Jack was recruited to spend every waking hour as a child prodigy instead of a brother.

Dan dropped the frog into the grass and wiped his hands on his pants, snatching up his sketchbook and turning back toward home. Jean was no doubt in tears by now, and the twins were probably wondering why Dan wasn’t kicking them out to the backyard yet. They needed a big brother as much as he did, and Dan couldn’t let them down the way Jack already had.


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