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Son
My salsa & Cuba novel THE CAT KING OF HAVANA is finally out!!! This book is my love letter to salsa dancing. I hope it will thrill dancers and entice newcomers to our world.
Thanks so much to all the SFers who helped me write this one! And everyone else -- I'd love to hear your thoughts if you happen to read it at some point. I won't post bookstore links so that I'm not using SF for advertising, but it should be widely available from all major US retailers.
In the meantime, here's my Author's Note for the book -- which I think some of you might enjoy!
--
Two passions inspired "The Cat King of Havana".
The first was my passion for Cuba in all its complexity. An island that seems a utopia one day, a dystopia the next, and somewhere in the middle on your average Tuesday.
Between various trips I've spent close to a year in Havana, riding packed buses, standing in long lines for mundane errands, and enjoying leisurely strolls along the Malecón. Even so, I feel like I've only scratched the surface. Where this book succeeds it is thanks to the many Cuban friends and colleagues who advised me. Where it falls short, it is due to my limited outsider's perspective.
And yet, limited or not, I hope my vision of Cuba awakens in my readers a desire to go see for themselves -- with respect and appreciation.
The second passion that inspired this book was dance.
I'm allergic to the words "you haven't got what it takes". Utter them in my direction and you might send me into an obsession lasting days, months or even years -- until I've proved you wrong.
This is how I learned English well enough to write fiction in it (my classmates, fellow Latvians, laughed at the idea). This is how I became a physics major in college (physics was the one black mark on my high school transcript). This is also how I learned to dance.
I didn't always have this allergy, though.
Back in elementary school, when I was on the verge of failing gym class, my family told me, "That's okay. You've got other talents. You're not made for sports."
I believed them. Years of clumsiness, bullying, and gym periods from hell followed. In high school, I finally decided enough was enough and joined a martial arts school. For three months of aikido classes, I couldn't do a simple back roll -- something even the clumsiest of my classmates did with ease. But I kept at it, hour after hour, day after day, month after month.
Six arduous years later, I earned my black belt. By that time, I'd realized I didn't need talent to become competent at something. Sheer stubbornness would do the trick.
This insight came in handy when, on a chance trip to Cuba, I took my first salsa class. I loved it -- and I was atrocious. A block of wood on two left feet, with a tendency to collide with any furniture foolishly left nearby. My Cuban teacher was too polite to say such a thing, but I could tell my dance potential wasn't exactly overwhelming.
It didn't matter. I was in love. I wouldn't let a lack of talent stop me.
Salsa took over my life. For the next few years, I danced twenty to thirty hours a week, took classes from all the best teachers I could find, and returned to Cuba to learn more.
Now, four years later, I teach salsa myself -- even as I continue my own studies. I'm not the best dancer in the world, or even close, but I'm doing what I love and having a blast.
With "The Cat King of Havana", I wanted to share my love of dance -- but also to share my allergy, if such a thing is possible.
If you love something enough, it doesn't matter whether people think you've got what it takes. You may never become the best in the world. With endless hours of work, though, you can get pretty good at just about anything.
Thanks so much to all the SFers who helped me write this one! And everyone else -- I'd love to hear your thoughts if you happen to read it at some point. I won't post bookstore links so that I'm not using SF for advertising, but it should be widely available from all major US retailers.
In the meantime, here's my Author's Note for the book -- which I think some of you might enjoy!
--
Two passions inspired "The Cat King of Havana".
The first was my passion for Cuba in all its complexity. An island that seems a utopia one day, a dystopia the next, and somewhere in the middle on your average Tuesday.
Between various trips I've spent close to a year in Havana, riding packed buses, standing in long lines for mundane errands, and enjoying leisurely strolls along the Malecón. Even so, I feel like I've only scratched the surface. Where this book succeeds it is thanks to the many Cuban friends and colleagues who advised me. Where it falls short, it is due to my limited outsider's perspective.
And yet, limited or not, I hope my vision of Cuba awakens in my readers a desire to go see for themselves -- with respect and appreciation.
The second passion that inspired this book was dance.
I'm allergic to the words "you haven't got what it takes". Utter them in my direction and you might send me into an obsession lasting days, months or even years -- until I've proved you wrong.
This is how I learned English well enough to write fiction in it (my classmates, fellow Latvians, laughed at the idea). This is how I became a physics major in college (physics was the one black mark on my high school transcript). This is also how I learned to dance.
I didn't always have this allergy, though.
Back in elementary school, when I was on the verge of failing gym class, my family told me, "That's okay. You've got other talents. You're not made for sports."
I believed them. Years of clumsiness, bullying, and gym periods from hell followed. In high school, I finally decided enough was enough and joined a martial arts school. For three months of aikido classes, I couldn't do a simple back roll -- something even the clumsiest of my classmates did with ease. But I kept at it, hour after hour, day after day, month after month.
Six arduous years later, I earned my black belt. By that time, I'd realized I didn't need talent to become competent at something. Sheer stubbornness would do the trick.
This insight came in handy when, on a chance trip to Cuba, I took my first salsa class. I loved it -- and I was atrocious. A block of wood on two left feet, with a tendency to collide with any furniture foolishly left nearby. My Cuban teacher was too polite to say such a thing, but I could tell my dance potential wasn't exactly overwhelming.
It didn't matter. I was in love. I wouldn't let a lack of talent stop me.
Salsa took over my life. For the next few years, I danced twenty to thirty hours a week, took classes from all the best teachers I could find, and returned to Cuba to learn more.
Now, four years later, I teach salsa myself -- even as I continue my own studies. I'm not the best dancer in the world, or even close, but I'm doing what I love and having a blast.
With "The Cat King of Havana", I wanted to share my love of dance -- but also to share my allergy, if such a thing is possible.
If you love something enough, it doesn't matter whether people think you've got what it takes. You may never become the best in the world. With endless hours of work, though, you can get pretty good at just about anything.
if you like the book, please tell your salsero and reader friends!