danced to pieces

Not me. I wish, but I am a pretty dreadful dancer, except in my mind.

 A green ukulele is a joy forever.

A green ukulele is a joy forever.

No: I mean the fairy tale "The Shoes that were Danced to Pieces," which was one of my favorites when I was a kid. This month at the Cabinet of Curiosities we're doing fairy tale retellings, so I did that one, and it came out all raging and Sylvia Plathish which is perhaps unexpected in a middle grade story! But I think it would be ghastly to be a fairy tale princess.

It posted today so what are you waiting for? Go read it. 

In other news, ermmm, oh! over at the Enchanted Inkpot today, I also interviewed Ellen Booraem about her new book Texting the Underworld. It's a splendid book that manages to be funny about subjects like childhood anxiety and, actually, death itself. You can win a copy of the book there, too.  

And . . . it is very hot here in Austin, Texas. Like we-are-ready-to-shoot-ourselves hot. 

And . . . I got a ukulele, for some reason. It's green! In six months I will regale you all with a halting but sincere version of "You Are My Sunshine, My Only [pause to change chords] Sunshine."