One day, years ago, I came downstairs to find my son engrossed in a
Philadelphia magazine story. I'd written the story for him—the tale of his first official soccer goal—and I'd put him out there, in the world, with the likes of his heroes, Beckham and Ronaldo. I loved writing the story, but I loved watching that goal far more, and today what I love most of all is this photograph that sits on my sill, the picture I snapped when I came downstairs to find the little guy bemused by the words I'd written. Sometimes we're not sure if we're publishing the right book, or the right story. I never had doubts about this one.
Another reward: Finding a review like
this one, on the classy blog, Stiletto Storytime. I love being included on a blog that boasts stilettos, and I am so grateful for this reader's appreciation of
The Heart is Not a Size.
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