jonathan friesen

Contests

I love contests. I won the first one I ever entered. I had to draw "Cubby," this cute little bear from the TV guide. Yep, I won $25, which in 1973 bought a lot of baseball cards.

The draw Cubby people said I had a future in the visual arts. I don't know about that. I do know writing has worked out pretty well. So here's the deal, Zonderkidz is sponsoring another contest in conjunction with the release of THE LAST MARTIN.

Some of you can stop reading right now. 
Do you live in Fiji? Sorry. Residents of the United States only. Next time we'll reach across the pond.

Are you sixteen? Whoops. Just a wee bit too old, Fourteen is the age limit.

Do you insist on writing thousands of words? Nope. Here we want two hundred words or less. Brevity rules!

Is your last name Friesen? Sorry darling, you can't enter your dad's contest!

But for the rest of you . . . here is your chance to meet me, and snag the eyes of Zondervan big shots! (And score some awesome books in the process.)

So, calling all US residents, fourteen and under, willing to limit themselves to 200 words, and who aren't named Friesen. This contest is for YOU!! 

Rules are on my website. Best Wishes to you all!

What Could be Worse?

What could be worse than enduring a bad soccer game . . .

Watching a good game in which your son is playing well . . .

And living ninety minutes away from every practice . . .

And having him play on multiple teams . . .

And watching gas hit 3.79 while you barely clear 25 mpg . . .

And handing the gas station guy your last twenty, knowing tomorrow you'll be right back here, watching him grin and snatch more money while you drive to soccer . . .

And having your boy love the game so much you know you won't be saving money anytime soon . . .

Even though your next book IS due soon . . .

And you are spending tons of time speaking . . .

And at each engagement you are offered decadent and tempting foods (see last post) . . .

And then you come home exhausted, to an empty tank, just in time for the next soccer practice . . .

What could be worse than that . . . 

Lots.

 

The Vegan Slide

A few days ago, my son and I were on our way back from soccer, and we were famished. We passed by a Jimmy Johns. I'd never been to a Jimmy Johns.

We stopped in and ordered the Vegetarian. I took a bite. WOW. Was it good. Too good. I picked inside. Cheese. Lots of cheese. For eight years I've been carefully picking out the stuff. Not this day. I ate it. I enjoyed it. The Slide began.

Three days ago, a tuna sandwich. Two days ago, cheese pizza. Yesterday, more cheese pizza. I'm out of control! I'm falling off the wagon. I'm reciting the twelve steps, but it's doing no good.

Hi, I'm Jonathan, and I'm a carnivore . . .

Ugh. I need a support group. I need to get off the road. I need a cheese . . . see? It's that bad.

I'm dreaming of sloppy, juicy reubens.  I've entered The Vegan Slide.