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.

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." 

writing seeds: tiny ideas you can't see inside

I have a guest blog up at the Enchanted Inkpot today about the importance of keeping things teeeeeny tiny at the beginning of a writing project. Maybe throughout a writing project, to tell the truth. 

Happy seedlings don't know they were planted too late (or don't know YET).

It's called "Tiny Shells, Each With a Wilderness Inside" (which I immodestly feel is a splendid blog title--I should hire out!). Now that blog is written and posted I'm wishing I'd leaned more not just on the tininess of the ideas, but also their initial opacity. It feels like both are important. 

Thus I mix up my two current obsessions, writing and beginning to reclaim our yard.

Tolkien hogged all the good ideas

What a horrible faithless blogger I've been. In my defense I was finishing a draft of my second book, and then immediately it was Christmas, and then immediately I had a wretched cold that lingered lovingly for weeks.

But I am awake and alive again! and just posted over on the Enchanted Inkpot about the question of fantasy and originality and why it seems so IMPOSSIBLE, but I think really isn't. Check it out.