On an island where magic is contained by a forest of wizard-trees in a place called the Barrow, an eleven-year-old boy named Oscar lives in the basement of a magician's shop
Every night, I waited for Peter Pan to take me to Neverland. That's not a joke. All you preteens waiting for your Hogwarts letter had no idea how bad it could really be. I wasn't old enough to even consider that Peter Pan might be fictional. I really waited. And waited.
This month I'll be reading The Real Boy by Anne Ursu, about a young magician's hand. Check out this review by Corrine Duyvis for disability in kidlit.
When I was about six, I discovered honey.
A sewing cabinet is a small, convenient, sometimes spindly legged and wheel-footed, hollow work table.
So it's a new year again, and although January first means nothing in terms of the earth actually circling the sun, I suppose two thousand or so years of tradition count for something.