This Photograph was also taken by Jill's Blackberry

I have drawn the brilliant conclusion that all important messages are sent to me while I am at the dance studio being tossed about, from partner hip to hip (do they really call that move the back breaker?), or when being encouraged to go high on the tango kicks (really? you want me to kick that high?).

For today while being asked to scorpion my legs while being spun but a quick half turn (okay, you try it), the red phone light was blinking with this news: The Heart is Not a Size is now available in galley form.

There is so much, for me, that is bittersweet about this book, and so much that, quietly (can I say this?) I am proud of. Not proud in a hang-the-ribbons-on-the-wall fashion, but proud because this book required me to push through issues with which I have struggled for nearly a lifetime, and because it takes place mostly in Juarez, a border town where I discovered community of a most essential sort.

In any case. And so it is. And someday, maybe, I'll execute that scorpion kick in a manner that does not cause Scott Lazarov to gently roll his eyes.