Rachelle, over at http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/ , has just wrapped up the Yo-Dawg writing contest. While I didn't win, it was still a good experience. Here is my first page entry. The first line was given to us and we had to come up with the rest, up to 300 words. Please feel free to tell me what you think.
Things were going along just fine until the miracle fouled up everything. Dennis Saxton had moved his family to Vermont for solitude, not for a hoard of reporters to crush his wife’s prize roses.
“Janet! They’re in your roses again!”
Janet Saxton came into the parlor, wiping flour from her hands onto her apron.
“I gotta put up the signs.” Dennis said.
“Because nothing,” said Janet, taking a peek out the window, “says welcome to Saxton B&B like a no trespassing sign.”
“And a media circus does?” He shook his head. “Where’s Matt?”
“Up in his room- why? You’re not thinking of sending him out again are you?”
“MATT!” Dennis called. “Matt come down here!”
15 year-old Matt Saxton barreled down the stairs. “What’s up Pop?”
“They’re in your mother’s roses again.”
“You want me to take ‘em on another ride?”
“No.” Janet said. “I don’t think…”
“We are prisoners in our own home, Janet. If we’re sport for them, why can’t they be sport for us?” Dennis turned to his son. “Make sure to take them into town. Spend a little time with Old Nick at the bike shop and hang out at the Ice Cream Hut too. Don’t ditch ‘em until they’ve dropped some cash.”
“Should I take ‘em by the dock?”
A scowl darkened Dennis’ face. “No. Stay away from the lake.”
Dennis watched his son jump on his bike and take off down the street. Like a swarm of locusts, the crowd around the Saxton’s inn took off after him: Some on foot, some dashing to parked cars.
“Why us?” Dennis muttered.
“Just be thankful that Matt is alive, Den.” Janet said. She kissed her husband on the cheek. “He’s more valuable than the roses.”
Well, that was it. Brenda over at http://timeandseasons.blogspot.com/ also has her entry posted. Check her's out too.
Things were going along just fine until the miracle fouled up everything. Dennis Saxton had moved his family to Vermont for solitude, not for a hoard of reporters to crush his wife’s prize roses.
“Janet! They’re in your roses again!”
Janet Saxton came into the parlor, wiping flour from her hands onto her apron.
“I gotta put up the signs.” Dennis said.
“Because nothing,” said Janet, taking a peek out the window, “says welcome to Saxton B&B like a no trespassing sign.”
“And a media circus does?” He shook his head. “Where’s Matt?”
“Up in his room- why? You’re not thinking of sending him out again are you?”
“MATT!” Dennis called. “Matt come down here!”
15 year-old Matt Saxton barreled down the stairs. “What’s up Pop?”
“They’re in your mother’s roses again.”
“You want me to take ‘em on another ride?”
“No.” Janet said. “I don’t think…”
“We are prisoners in our own home, Janet. If we’re sport for them, why can’t they be sport for us?” Dennis turned to his son. “Make sure to take them into town. Spend a little time with Old Nick at the bike shop and hang out at the Ice Cream Hut too. Don’t ditch ‘em until they’ve dropped some cash.”
“Should I take ‘em by the dock?”
A scowl darkened Dennis’ face. “No. Stay away from the lake.”
Dennis watched his son jump on his bike and take off down the street. Like a swarm of locusts, the crowd around the Saxton’s inn took off after him: Some on foot, some dashing to parked cars.
“Why us?” Dennis muttered.
“Just be thankful that Matt is alive, Den.” Janet said. She kissed her husband on the cheek. “He’s more valuable than the roses.”
Well, that was it. Brenda over at http://timeandseasons.blogspot.com/ also has her entry posted. Check her's out too.
1 comment:
I liked your other short blurp better - about the lady and the waterfall.
For this story it would depend if I was already familiar with the author or not.
Post a Comment