SNEAK PEAK of top secret new work...

... the bossy big sister narrator is at it again... and this time? Well it's HOW TO GET MARRIED: by Me, the Bride. (Ably assisted, of course, by that little baby--who at one point ends up wearing a moustache.) It's the companion to the New York Times Bestseller, HOW TO BE A BABY: by Me, the Big Sister and it's coming in March--just in time for spring. The publisher says: "Here is the perfect book for kids who play pretend and throw mock weddings, and also for grown-ups who are actual brides-to-be. " To learn more, have a laugh, or even pre-order your very own copy, click here.

the business of words

"My business is words. Words are like labels, or coins, or better, like swarming bees." —Anne Sexton (1924-1974)

Boris Klapwald: Meet me at Grand Central

photographs taken at Grand Central by a young photographer in the 1950s. For more than 50 years the photographs sat in boxes until his daughter unearthed them. More info: here.

to live

Emily Dickinson said, "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."

thoughts about Hot Air Ballooning

That's me in there. In that balloon. Floating about out there. Above that field in between the trees. It really is.

I had the chance to go last year. It was brilliant. You speed (with the right wind) inches from the ground. You dart up suddenly just before you hit a tree. You touch the tops of trees and see Lama, darting rabbits, deer, fawns, foxes. You float over people's heads and back yards and can inspect their roofs. And one time, a labrador chased us with such abandon through corn fields it seemed to me to be exactly what joy looks like.

Also, I wonder. Is this how it feels to be Balloon Bird? He really is the luckiest of all birds to be able to float about like that. If I possibly could, it's the only way I'd travel.

As you waft along in the silence you can hear the tiniest sounds below you.

One thing I never knew about hot air balloons: you can control the up and down, but you can't steer. You just have to go wherever the wind blows you.

Hmm. Sounds a bit like something wise ...

aspirational broccoli

i'd never heard of it
(have you?)
but I just got some
and ate them all up
(they were delicious)

only now I feel horrid
not because they are disagreeing with me
because of their name
"Aspirational Broccoli"

I keep wondering
what were they hoping for?
were they hoping, one day, to maybe grow up to become Broccoli?

oh dear

these poor broccoli babies
this infant broccoli
that I just murdered
and cut up
and ate

baby spinach
baby arugula
baby vegetables
why is everything suddenly baby something?

I'm not all that keen on eating babies

particularly when all day long I'm writing stories for them

writing stories all day long to entertain them
only to have them on toast?
and heartlessly gobble them up for my lunch?

(THIS JUST IN: apparently Aspirational Broccoli is just another name for Broccolini. So that's all right then.)

(Although, now I think about it, doesn't Broccolini sound more like someone's little sister... or a cousin of Fusilli ... or in some way related of the Linguines of Queens?)

full stop, period

"There is no iron that can enter the human heart with such stupefying effect, as a period placed at just the right moment."

Isaak Babel (1894-1940)

Johnny Cash's advice for writers...

In a letter Johnny Cash sent his daughter Roseanne, he urged her:
"Write. Write. Write. And don't care what anyone thinks."
— Johnny Cash (1932 - 2003)

Is there any better advice than that?