Dang Cool

I forgot to mention that I did pick up a little treasure on our antique spree the other day. It would, I’m sure, be considered a silly thing to most people. But when the lady unlocked the glass case and let me hold the darn thing…my hands were shaking. See, I’d been looking for this pretty cup for about 15 years, and never thought for a second that I’d ever touch one–never mind take one home.

Now I suppose there aren’t many people on this planet that know what this even is. But I’ll give you a tiny hint…

Any guesses my friends?

Just curious.

:]

651

Children’s Book Festival

Some of my favorite books in the whole wide world…

written by one of my favorite authors in the whole wide world—-

were missing one, vital thing…

until this weekend.

April and I went to the Children’s Book Festival in Provo–and met a new writer friend.

We are now official members of Newberry Award winner Shannon Hale’s fan club…or so it seems. She was kind and generous with her autograph and talked to us for more than our fair share of time–even with a line of people going right out the ballroom door. If you aren’t familiar with her books–go promptly HERE to redeem yourself.

You won’t be sorry. Her books are incredible—

and we know now—so is she.

The Master of Words

Rick Walton has a new picture book coming out this summer. As always–it’s clever and witty and sweet and wise. I hope you’ll view the book trailer and clap like mad. Seriously, did you know they made trailers for books? I had no idea.
At any rate, every time he has a new book, I just want to shout, “Hey, I know that guy!”

Congratulations again Rick!

Check out some of Rick’s other stuff.

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Mightier Than the Sword

That One Chick #14

Beware. I have some bad news. You don’t know me as well as you think you do. You see…

I’m not the mild-mannered quirky blogger you think I am. In fact, I’m what you could call…

a hardened criminal.

In my short little life, I’ve actually…

taken a hostage,

broken some guy’s nose and…

shot an innocent man.

Oh, it gets worse.

I…

brace yourself…

have even…

killed.

Not just once, but several times.

And worst of all–I’m not a bit sorry and it is quite likely that I’ll do it again.

I told you it was bad.

Allow me to explain.

 

A few years back–I was a writer…of children’s books. It was positively the most magical occupation I could ever have imagined. One of the things I loved most about it is that you can tell whatever kind of story you want—you can make up anything and there are very few rules. Now and then…on the rare occasion, there is even a  therapeutic outlet for some…ahhhh….how should I say this—

venting.

Even, perhaps an easy place to poke a playful jab at a beloved friend.

Now, I didn’t do it very often, but I will confess, there have been a few times. I’ve used the very names and places, true life stories and people–just carefully wrapping them up in a great bit of historical fiction. My neighbors, friends and family have become pioneers, sea captains, foreign immigrants, trolley drivers, galley cooks and…even bad guys.

One time I used half of the neighborhood and had one real tough guy accidentally shot. Don’t worry, he was just grazed–but oh, did he whine! In the book anyway. That was the best part! The only real time I got seriously mean was when a lady I knew was needlessly unkind to one of my kids. Yeah–don’t do that. She ended up straying from the wagon train, and…

the wolves got her.

Not my fault.

She should’a stayed put like she was told.

So, when I’m in the mood to get back into this writing thing again–oh, I will–you better be reeallly nice to me or things could get…interesting.

If you’re not very careful–

you could end up being turned into an ugly troll or a wicked witch…or a llama…

for all eternity.

Hee hee hee.