Here’s the best news of all. Walsh is giving away two autographed copies, which each come with a dozen homemade cookies lovingly made by the author herself!
All you have to do to enter is share this story’s link on Facebook or Twitter or in an email or newsletter. Send me a screenshot or a blind copy of the share at firstname.lastname@example.org and you’ll be entered to win.
Don’t wait. The big drawing will be held on Tuesday, December 11th. Good luck!
In the meantime, whet your appetite with two excerpts from the book below…
At work, Kimber asked if I wanted to go to a new dance exer- cise class with her. I normally would have said no, because I didn’t consider myself a dance exercise class type, but today was different. I was anything, everything, but not my old self anymore.
“Sure,” I said. I hopped in Kimber’s car and we drove up to Studio East, a funky old space off Canyon Road. It had a dinged wooden dance floor, mirrored walls slightly warped in places, and white Christmas lights strung around the ceiling. It reminded me a little of the Buffalo apartment I shared with Pam. The teacher was a small, trim, but still curvy-bodied person with a mass of orange curly hair—kind of like a lion’s mane.
“Welcome to my Nia class. I’m Susana,” she said with a husky- voiced British accent and a cute, gappy grin. “When I’m about to make a change of movement, I’ll call out. You just have to watch me.”
She began the music, and to my enjoyment, it was Sinéad O’Connor from start to finish. As she led us in spirals and figure eights of the hips, I lost my mind for an hour, and found my body. I felt sexy and warm and juicy, and sweaty, too. And I wanted more. That week, I went to three more classes. After that, I was one of Susana’s regulars (pg. 247)
Some people gain weight when they’re grieving. But once again, grief burned up my fat deposits and winnowed my appetite. It helped that I went religiously to Nia. Dance class—even if I ended up crying during the cooldown—was a lifesaver. And the more I did it, the better I got, which gave me something to feel good about. I’d spent my whole life feeling slow, awkward, uncoordinated, and also victimized, but suddenly I was spry, agile, and even graceful (pg. 256).
For more info on the book and a downloadable Book Club Reader's Guide, visit: lickingthespoonbook.com.
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