I put this recent MEdia appearance on Facebook at the time it came out but didn't think it necessary to blog about it as well, being kind of tired of blowing my own trumpet and, more honestly, not being entirely happy with the giant present-day me positioned alongside the tiny dancer me, giving something of the effect of an Incredible Hulkess, even if it is roughly the truth of the matter. I am about 800 times larger than I was as a teenage dancer.
But it doesn't pay to be too vain in this book-writing and promotion business (if not life in general). Rather, as I'm coming to learn, you have to make the most of any media attention you get and be gracious when they make you look like a hulk or write that you became a Russian ballerina when you didn't, at least not outside of your dreams. I became an Australian ballerina, a slightly smaller achievement. Still, perhaps one distortion compensates for the other and it all irons out in the wash -- unlike my shirt.
And I really shouldn't be grumbling, because one of my oldest friends, who I had hardly seen since primary school, saw the piece published in the local rag, somehow recognised me under my new Russian name, looked up the publishers, found the promotion for the Sydney launch on their website and came to the launch! And it was great to see her, even if she did not quite make it into the book that covers the period in which we were almost best friends.
And on that, slightly cringey note, I feel an Incredible Hulkess moment coming on, induced by shame rather than rage, shame being how you provoke a Hulkess, of course. So I'll leave it there and suggest you stay tuned for the next instalment of the Incredible Hulkess. I think she could be BIG.
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