Ballet and Books

Hello friends! I hope you’re all healthy and safe! Like most of you, I’m still staying close to home, limiting my contacts, and wearing masks on the rare occasion that I'm out and about. But through all that, I’ve had a busy summer. I’ve been baking a lot (keep watch for another Baking Through Quarantine post coming soon), fostering kittens, and I’ve also been working on some exciting projects.

Yes, I’m talking about book projects!

You may remember back in 2013, I wrote and published a story called Pie and Other Brilliant Ideas about a young girl and her love of ballet. While that book received positive feedback, I decided to pull it from shelves shortly after publishing. It was a lovely story, but it wasn’t the exact story I wanted to write. And back then, I didn’t have the time or ability to write the exact story I wanted to write.

Fast forward to 2020.

I know, I’d rather skip right over it too, but here we are, and I’m feeling inspired.
 
More importantly, I’m feeling ready, and that means diving deep into research about all things related to training with Russian ballet academies during communist Soviet rule. After just a few weeks, I’ve got pages (and pages) of notes from my research. Much of the research has been fascinating. And while there's been some eye-opening moments, there's also been some amazing surprises. Like this one that came across my doorstep yesterday:

Maya Plisetskaya was not only one of the most celebrated and talented prima ballerinas to come out of the Soviet Union, but she was also a Jewish dancer, entering the Bolshoi Academy under Stalin’s rule. This book is her memoir, and according to the blurb, it tells it all. Everything. I had to have a copy and found one in an online used bookstore. Imagine my SURPRISE when I opened it to find this inscription:
​

​It’s in Russian, and I don’t speak Russian (although my Quarantine French lessons are coming along nicely.) But I put out a call on social media and it turns out someone responded with help! Okay fine, it was my mother. She sent the inscription to a friend of hers who is Russian and this was her response:
​

I checked the credits on the book. Sure enough the translator’s first name is Antonina ... a formal possibility for Anna.

My first thought was why would the woman who translated the book give away or sell her copy? Her signed copy? Of course, in her defense, my own child did put his signed copy of NATE ROCKS THE WORLD on the top of his giveaway pile last summer. But I’m no Maya Plisetskaya.

Not. Even. Close.
 
Whatever the reason, it’s now in my hands. The hands of someone who loves both books and ballet. And I couldn’t be happier or feel more inspired.
 
Xo,
Karen