the dying leaves are dancing off the trees

If you couldn't tell by the radio silence, the old blog is going through an existential crisis. But I want it TO BE, so I'm thinking of this more like a Whovian regeneration. You never know, we could end up with David Tennant around here.*

As far as Comedy Festy goes, Background Check were okay and The Musical of Musicals: The Musical was H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S.

Day to day I make barcodes and read all kinds of manuscripts and check that the ebooks aren't wonky onscreen and drink coffee. It is very fun. The other day I got to read some frenchy picture books and do some translation. I was shocked to realise how bad my French has become.

Night to night I scribble. The mad folk over at The Rag and Bone Man Press published a Very Silly Story of mine, over on their website.  They're looking for stories, if you have any to give. 

And I read. Recently I reread Karen Cushman's 1996 Newbery Medal winning The Midwife's Apprentice, a gorgeous little story (just 116 pages) about a poor orphan girl in England in the middle ages whose life changes forever when she is hauled from the dung heap by a cranky village midwife.

The comb was hers. Beetle stood breathless for fear someone would snatch it back. Never had she owned anything except for her raggedy clothes and occasional turnips, and now the comb with the cat was hers. The wink and the comment about her curls, though Beetle didn't know it, were also gifts from the generous merchant, and they nestled into Beetle's heart and stayed there.

And as for the title of this post?



*a girl can dream...