The Poetry Hop

Freckles:

It was up early the next morning and off to breakfast. Deb, once again, headed inside while I munched the scrumptious clover at the edges of the field.


After breakfast, I joined Deb inside the meeting hall and while she took notes and mapped picture book structure, I nibbled on the edges of the picture books. Who needs autographs when bunny-nibbled corners provide a longer lasting impression.


Then it was retreat time -- more writing for Deb and a restful nap for me.

After a delightful lunch back at the field, Deb returned to the meeting hall to learn more boring exciting stuff from an editor about how to reveal secrets in your novel. Meanwhile, I headed off in search of some forest secrets. I found some wild bunnies and we staged a poetry hop over the logs in the woods. I never knew there were so many words that rhymed with log -- hog, bog, polliwog...

From there it was just a hop, blink, and a thump until critique time. While Deb and some other retreaters critiqued one another's manuscripts, I curled up under a huge fern and took a little nap. Guess what I dreamed about? That big old brown bear. Hmmm, I wondered if I'd see him before we left.