In the earliest days, Frog had a beautiful voice. All through the long summer twilights, he sang sweetly among the reeds while fireflies blinked lazily and the earth settled itself into evening. Around that first pond, the other creatures always gathered to listen...

Here's another story that was originally written for a theme—in this case, music. Though it didn't make the cut for that particular anthology, it took first place in a later contest held by Spark: A Creative Anthology with the theme of fables, and was published there. (I bought myself a fancy new office chair with part of the prize money.)

In the end, this little frog went farther than I would have thought. The story was also printed in Ember (a sister publication to Spark, aimed at all ages, including younger readers), and it inspired that issue's beautiful wraparound cover, a print of which hangs in my home now. 

Later, I was contacted about turning it into an audiobook, and it's currently my only work so far that you can buy from Audible. And they gave it an absolutely adorable cover, which still makes me smile every time I look at it. (The little stars! The music notes! That cute font!)

One of the things that's been nice about this story is hearing from readers who've appreciated the various levels it works on. On the one hand, it's an entertaining little fable, but to me it's also a story about art and artists and audience, about making your art your identity and what happens if you lose part of that identity, and about what happens when you love that art but also know you'll never be as good at it as you long to be. 

What then? Is it still worth singing?

I think so. 

See what you think.