On books... Books that have made me miss pole class, #1

The great thing about being obsessed with both pole dance and books is that the two rarely conflict with each other.  My favourite time and place to read is in bed just before I go to sleep - not really going to clash with pole dance there.  And when I'm about to go to class I'm usually really pumped (or at least generally looking forward to it!) and the idea of sitting down and reading seems faintly ridiculous.

Yesterday was Saturday.  I was planning on doing a catch-up class, but I had an hour to kill beforehand, and I didn't really have anything to do (not anything that would take only an hour, anyway).  I walked into my bedroom and saw a book that I've been reading sitting on the shelf next to my bed.  Now I've been a bit stuck with this book for the last week or so, because it's a very dark psychological thriller - not particularly the kind of book that one should read before bed.  So I thought, hey, it's the middle of the day, what a great opportunity to read some more of it without the likelihood of nightmares.

Big mistake.

My pole class was at 1:30pm.  I would have to leave at 1:15pm at the latest to make it on time.  This is how it went.
12pm: Started reading.  This is great!  I can probably get through a third of this book before I have to go!
12:45pm: Hmm, I should probably start getting ready.  I'll just read the rest of this chapter.
1pm: Crap.  Well, maybe I can just be a bit late.  Just one more chapter.
1:15pm: Maybe I don't need to shower??
1:20pm: Yeah this is not happening.  The book has won.

In case you're interested, I finally finished the book at 2:20pm.  Victory!!  Sort of.

Seriously though, it was an absolutely brilliant book.  It's called In the Blood by Lisa Unger, and the company I work for is publishing it in January.  I'm not a big reader of thrillers, so those that I do read tend to be for work purposes.  I'm so glad I did read this one though - it's very well-crafted, a bit more literary than the average thriller, and has the most brilliant twists.  I will admit that I'm one of those people that try to figure out the ending to a thriller genre book/movie/TV show before the end (sorry to my boyfriend who has had several TV episodes ruined by this), and I'm quite proud to say that after stumbling down a few false paths I did eventually get a few of the twists before they happened.  But just when you think you've got it all worked out, BAM - she hits you with another one.  Fantastic.  Another annoying thing I tend to do is go back over the plot in my mind and try to pick holes in it.  I'm not sorry to say I didn't find any in this.  There were a few slightly loose threads, but personally I think it's a mark of a higher quality of fiction when the author allows a few of these and doesn't insist on neatly wrapping up every single part of the story.  I've seen that done before and it usually interrupts the pace of the ending.
Now, fair warning - the book is very dark.  There are a lot of issues around mental health, which did make for slightly difficult reading for me, but it doesn't demonise people with mental health issues, especially given that the main character has been dealing with them for quite a while.  It also involves children, which always adds an extra level of discomfort, and gender issues, although I thought these were covered really well.

So if you like thrillers or crime books, definitely give this one a go.  If you're more of a literary fiction reader but you're thinking of branching out a little, this also would be worth a try.  It might be the only thriller that I read this year, but damn, it was good.

 

In the Blood by Lisa Unger will be available from January 2nd.  You can pre-order from Booktopia here, or from Dymocks online (it's not on their site yet but I'll put the link up soon), or check out your local bookshop - support Australian retailers and publishers!



with love from the lit dancer
artemis

On dance... the benefits of different teachers

We're halfway through week 2 of term 5 at Suzie Q Pole Studio, and after having a lovely few terms with mostly just one teacher, I've now got two different gorgeous ladies teaching me to defy gravity each week.  Now once you reach a higher level and stay there for quite a while - I've been in pre-advanced for what seems like forever, but is actually more like 2 years - you start to notice differences in the way that different instructors teach different moves.

The best example I can think of is the static V (also known as ayesha):

This move took me a long time to learn, and I'm yet to completely master it with different grips and leg positions.  The funny thing about the static V is that every single teacher I've met does it in a slightly different way, and has different strategies for learning it.  At first I found this mildly frustrating - I remember thinking, "how am I supposed to learn this if everyone has a different technique?"  But the day that I finally held a static V confidently was the result of all of these different techniques, and combining them to find a method that suited my level of strength and body type.

It's the same with dance styles.  Different teachers have different preferred styles; at Suzie Q alone we've got Suzie's polished routines, Belle's strength and grace, Daisy and Amarli's sexy flexiness, Bailey's beautiful contemporary style, Stacey's amazing power (and incredible hotness!), Amber's death-defying, why-worry-about-gravity shows, and more.  Any teacher worth their salt will tell you that even though it's great to master one style, and of course you're always going to have a preferred one (and it can change frequently!), it is incredibly beneficial to step outside your comfort zone.  I took some lyrical pole lessons at Amber's Haus of Pole recently, and having long been taught in a sexy style, having to swap my body rolls and hip circles for sweeping movements and dramatic gestures was a huge shock to the system - it took me right back to the early days of dance, when I could not have felt less co-ordinated.  And yet after a month of lyrical lessons, I found myself incorporating the moves into my freestyle dances, and thinking more about how I held myself in my transitions.

So if you've been with the same teacher for a while, and especially if you're having trouble with a particular move, try mixing it up a bit.  Take all the advice you can get from as many sources as possible, and do what feels right and safe for your body.  It's also worth trying out a new studio from time to time - they'll often have a different style, might teach different moves or techniques, and it's great to practice on different pole sizes and floor types (there's nothing like moving from carpet to wood and back again to make you appreciate different shoe grips!).  And if you're competing or doing shows, knowing that you have the ability to dance on brass or chrome poles big or small, on wooden or carpeted floors, makes a hell of a lot of difference to your confidence.

Now I just have to get used to Stacey's ridiculous cardio warm-ups, and Amber's insistence that we wear heels all the time...!!



with love from the lit dancer
artemis

On books... The Boy on the Wooden Box

The funny thing about this whole blog business is it doesn't write posts by itself...!  I've been stupidly busy and/or sick over the last month or so, but I have been reading!  So until I get time to finish writing reviews for the books I've finished recently, here's a review of a very special book I read a few months ago, when I was first given a copy of the manuscript (I work for the publisher).



The Boy on the Wooden Box by Leon Leyson

I’ve been working in publishing for nearly three years now, and I’ve been an avid reader since I worked out how to put those funny squiggles called “letters” into words and sentences.  People often ask me “what’s your favourite book?” which to me is a ridiculous question – it’s like asking what is your favourite memory, your favourite flavour, your favourite star in the sky.  There are too many, and they are too wonderful in different ways to rate on a simple scale of most to least brilliant.

Occasionally, and more frequently now that I work in the publishing industry, I will come across a book that connects with me in a profound and beautiful way.  I treasure these books and these moments, and it’s one of the many reasons why I feel so truly fortunate to work with books and with people who love books.

Rarely, though, I will read a book that leaves me feeling as though I’ve had my breath knocked out of me.  The Boy on the Wooden Box is such a book.  Written for children aged 10-14, it is a brief (133-page) autobiography of Leon Leyson, a Jewish man who grew up in Poland during the rise and fall of the Nazi party.  Along with many other Jews, he suffered horrific treatment at the hands of the Nazis, but unlike many he was fortunate enough to find himself and his family unexpectedly saved by a man named Oskar Schindler – the subject of the book Schindler’s Ark and the subsequent film Schindler’s List.

The details of Leyson’s childhood under the Nazis are absolutely shocking.  Although I have read many stories of families torn apart and lives destroyed during World War II, reading it as told from a child’s point of view is particularly jarring.  Nobody of any age should be made to suffer such inhuman treatment, but hearing it from a child’s mouth just makes it seem even more deplorable. The child narrator’s voice also has the interesting effect of making his saviour, Oskar Schindler, appear in quite a different light – the adult voice of Leyson interjects frequently to explain Oskar’s possible motivations and to elaborate on the many details he learned long after leaving Poland, but the child Leyson, though immeasurably appreciative of Schindler’s kindness, was ever wary of this man, who after all was outwardly a confirmed Nazi.  The child’s voice also brings to the story a sense of plain speaking, of clarity that is at times chilling and discomforting in its honesty, yet makes the story incredibly powerful.

Of course this all begs the question of whether or not this book is indeed appropriate for the target audience of 10-14 year old children.  After all, it describes some of the worst moments in human history; some absolutely traumatic and destructive events.  It is so very tempting to shield children from this, to pick out bits and pieces of the story and to postpone the full truth “until they’re older”.  But I disagree with this for two reasons.  Firstly, that I believe reading is about telling the truth.  And secondly, the overwhelming thought running through my mind as I was reading this book was “I want to make sure this never happens to anyone ever again”.  I honestly believe that my ten-year-old self would have felt the same.  Yes, the story is heavy and violent, but that’s the truth.  And the real message within is one of inspiration, of courage against evil and of protecting life and humanity at any personal cost.  That is a message I want all children to know and to believe in.

On an educational note, there are countless opportunities for class discussions and projects around this book.  The most obvious are research projects on World War II, the Nazi party, Judaism, and conflict around the world today.  There is also potential for interesting discussions about perspective; for example, Leyson mentions in his story that on his journey to America the conditions were what most people would consider less than ideal, but after the horrors of the labour camps he considered them very comfortable.  Apart from being a remarkable, fascinating and haunting story, it is also engaging and thought-provoking for a young audience.

I feel that I could write pages upon pages about how this book made me feel, and yet there seem to be few words that can accurately describe it.  The closest I can get is to say that it reached right into my soul, made me feel sickened and terrified at humanity’s capacity for depravity and hatred, and yet joyfully proud of how brightly the lights of the good people shine in such darkness.  It brought me to tears, filled me with love and inspired me profoundly.  This is an immensely important story and I feel privileged that I have the power to help bring it to my corner of the world.

This book will be available from today (21st August) - please support the Australian book industry and buy at your local bookstore, or if you would like to buy online, please consider an Australian online store such as Dymocks or Booktopia.

with love from the lit dancer
artemis

On dance.. and being very sore...

I've had a few weeks off pole due to a minor knee injury and then a bout of what I like to call "apocalypse flu" but my doctor insisted was actually "a moderate cold".  I made my first reappearance on Sunday at studio time, which was mostly spent writing out the routine for my next competition, and a few half-hearted iron X attempts.  I was also brutally hung over, so I give myself extra points for showing up at all.  But suffice to say it wasn't the most productive session.

I had my first proper post-hiatus class on Monday night, with my lovely teacher Belle, and I was determined to try my hardest.  My goal this term is to really focus on the execution of moves and make sure they're as polished as possible.  This took a bit of a hit after about ten minutes when I remembered how freaking hard pre-advanced class is.  I made it through to the end of class and to make up for my descent into sweaty ineptitude, when I got home I did a full-on leg stretch session including ten minutes in my middle split stretch machine.  I went to bed feeling exhausted but pleased with myself.

Tuesday went a little like this.
3am: managed to very elegantly hurl my water glass onto the floor, into an empty metal bin, which made a wonderful noise which I believe everyone in my street heard quite clearly. And no, I really don't know how I did it.
5:30am: woken up by garbage truck.
6:30am: woken up by second garbage truck (damn you, recycling).
6:45am: boyfriend wakes up to go to work.
7:30am: boyfriend comes in for a goodbye kiss, I'm pretty sure he was met with a snort/snore followed by flailing arms and morning breath.  I'm quite a catch.
7:45am: alarm goes off.
8:15am: roll out of bed feeling like I've been beaten up by a cranky boxing-gloved octopus.
8:45am: after a shower and cup of tea, ready to face the day, mostly.
6pm: arrive at SQPS for my pre-adv class with Daisy, which I'm really looking forward to, although I'm feeling a bit tender.  But hey, the warm-up will help with that, right?
6:15pm: concerned that I may lose the ability to stand up.
6:20pm: the first combo that Daisy wants us to practice is one that ends with a superman close to the floor.  It appears that my muscles have packed up and left for the evening, so my skin, which is particularly sensitive given the three week break I've given it, is taking the lead on all things grip-related.  I get through about four of these superman combos before the pain is too much.  Luckily at this point Daisy moves on to the next combo.
6:35pm: the next combo also involves a superman. Joy. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the very real sensation that my skin is detaching from my body.  I get through three of these and then quietly sit on the floor clutching my thighs in a decidedly unsexy way.
6:45pm: time to practice the routine for this term, which is great as it will give  my thighs a break from... oh, what's that?  That last combo is actually in the routine and we have to do it three more times?  I valiantly give it one more try, and then out of concern that the process of my skin scraping down the brass pole will cause my legs to catch on fire and possibly burn down the studio, I take one for the team and opt out of that move.  Y'know, cos I'm all about the welfare of my fellow students.
7pm: home time.  I walk out to the car like I've just been on a particularly long horse ride.  There will be no epic stretch session tonight.

I was impressed to find this morning that every single major muscle group was in pain.  I think this is the sign of a solid workout.  After work I went for a nice slow walk with the dog, which helped lessen the soreness in my legs, and while watching NSW again get pummeled by Queensland in State of Origin, I did a gentle upper body stretch session which definitely helped ease my aching shoulders.  (I also managed to competently get into and hold a floorwork move that I like to call the "stripper shoulder stand", which I was very proud of, but that's another story for another day.)

Now most normal people would consider that an activity that generates this much pain is possibly not a good idea.  But I am not normal; I am a pole dancer.  I went on Facebook, watched a Jamilla Deville video, and wondered if I would have time tonight to do a quick practice session.  There's so much that I want to do - strength training, flexibility training, finishing my competition routine, practicing my studio routine, not to mention working on transitions and floorwork, and playing with some of the fun lyrical moves that I've learned from Amber Ray in the last few months.  There's always something to work on, whether it's training, choreography, or just dancing for the fun of it.

I jumped up excitedly, and then remembered that after last night's class I have actual grazes on my thighs.
Hmm, maybe tomorrow night...



with love from the lit dancer
artemis




P.S. for all my non-dancer friends, this is what a superman looks like:

And this is an iron X.  I cannot do an iron X.  One day...

On starting a blog - and some of my favourite books!

I love reading.  I have loved reading ever since I learned to read.  I have loved reading to the point where it has occasionally become detrimental - I've missed train stops, burned food, stayed up far too late at night, been late to all kinds of appointments, and annoyed various friends and strangers because I could not stop reading.  The primary focus of my 18 years of formal education - primary, secondary, tertiary - was English, and I am so lucky to now find myself working in the publishing industry, where I'm surrounded by books and book lovers every day.

I love writing.  I love playing with words, concepts, characters and meanings.  I love creating people and worlds and I love spinning emotions out of the air like yarn from moonlight.  Often I just enjoy tapping out words that sound nice together.  I have always written - stories, poetry, articles, reviews and opinions.  Sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it's healing, but it's as necessary to me as eating or sleeping.

I love pole dancing.  It's not something I could have imagined myself doing - if you told me ten years ago that one day most of my free time would be consumed by it, I would have laughed.  And I know that a majority of the population don't understand - or misunderstand - the appeal, and I've spent many hours attempting to justify it!  Pole dance has given me freedom, focus, and joy.  It's taught me to overcome the odds, or if I can't, to find ways around them.  It's introduced me to some truly amazing people who I feel blessed to call friends.  It's given me awesome arms and a hell of a lot of bruises!  And most importantly pole dance is helping me to become proud of who I am.

So I've finally decided to start a blog to share three of my great passions - reading, writing, and pole dancing.  I hope you enjoy reading it!

To get things rolling, here's a quick list of some of my absolute favourite books.  I'll be reviewing some of these in future posts.
The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman
The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
The Boy on the Wooden Box by Leon Leyson
All in the Blue Unclouded Weather by Robin Klein
In the Shadow of the Banyan by Vaddey Ratner
The Milk of Birds by Sylvia Whitman
The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr Morris Lessmore by William Joyce
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Birdology by Sy Montgomery
The Rowland Sinclair series by Sulari Gentill
and many more to come...


with love from the lit dancer
artemis