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When I titled my fourth young adult novel The Heart is Not a Size, I was referring to my characters, Georgia and Riley—each so different from the other, each tested by their experiences in Juarez, each finding their way back to a friendship.

Since publishing the book, however, I have learned (again) about the unbounded hearts of others—so gracious, so generous, so true.

Em of Miss Em's Bookshelf is one of those hugely hearted people. I'm guest blogging there about my love of all things Spanish today. A copy of Heart will be sent to one who comments. Please do stop by.

I owe some very big thank you's to some very dear people, and I won't waste your time with preliminaries, except to say that this photo was taken last Thursday, at DanceSport Academy, the inspiration for many scenes in House of Dance. That's Aideen O'Malley (who inspired some aspects of the grandmother in the story). And if you look really hard, toward that slice of mirror, you'll see Scott Lazarov. Scott runs the studio (the very best anywhere). He was among my first teachers, and still teaches me tango, lindy hop, jive, bolero, and salsa when he can. It was Scott's wisdom and patience that inspired the character, Max, in the novel. Scott who made the dance scenes live.

All right, I've said more than I meant to for someone promising few preliminaries. What I came here to do was to say thank you to Laurie and Betty and Boo's Mommy, both, for their recent exquisite reviews of House. I meant to thank the always-wonderful Miss Em, for highlighting Undercover in her recent (gonzo) Winter Book Giveaway. And I meant to thank Anna Lefler, the comedienne extraordinaire (I was just watching one of her Hollywood gigs on YouTube; she's incredibly feminine and hysterical at the same time; get to know her) for well, hmm. Let's see. For the mug and for the postcards, both. For the mid-week pep talk when stuff was getting me down. For putting together an ad—an ad, I tell you—for my own little Beth Kephart blog.

Someday I'll throw a party for all the special people in the world. Hopefully all you will come. And when you come you'll get to meet all those other special people. (You know who you are.)

Thank you, Miss Em, for naming House of Dance one of your top ten reads of the year. I know how much you read. I know how graced that recommendation feels.

Mari, thank you for naming House of Dance as one of your favorite books of the year. I am in such tremendous company in your list. I'm ... astonished!

To Becca, who writes one of the smartest book blogs in cyberspace—her idea of a review being my idea of a review, her tastes often mirroring mine—thank you for giving me a set of butterfly wings in your latest post. To Lilly for so sweetly acknowledging me in her own blog, and for entering this community so gracefully. To Tapestry100, for being such a kind supporter of Into the Tangle of Friendship, and for naming it one of his favorite books of the year.

To Sherry, who not only raised the remarkable Miss Erin we all love, but who also leaves exquisite comments on this blog—thoughtful comments.

And thank you, Lenore, for your rocking yesterday honor. You are your own tour de force in this wide web world. I'm honored to count you as a friend.

Earlier today I was walking the beach alone. The sky was (at last) blue. The ocean was frisky. The gulls paid me no nevermind. Fervency had replaced the fever of a pent-up winter.

I have been gone just 24 hours and my back isn't aching as much as it had, and I read a book, and I saw the sea, and I did nothing I was supposed to be doing, and it was good.

But two friends—a bookseller, a librarian—had happy news for me upon my return to reality, and I thank them both here. Em for telling me about how The Happy Nappy Bookseller has put in a long-shot Newbery wager for House of Dance. Charlotte for discovering (and then passing on the news) that Chasing Ray has today expressed hope for Nothing but Ghosts in her provocative (and wonderful) scouring of upcoming YA titles. I'm honored to be noticed by both reader-bloggers (and to have the friends that I do).

I was so touched by the comments I received about the tree bear (below) that I went back and retrieved this great, wild bird, which was sitting above a stump nearby, in that same park in Vancouver, beneath that same lovely sky.

Miss Em said the stump might be a character in a woodlands fairytale. I wonder if this bird (so black it reads as blue) might be a character, too? I wonder if the bird might teach the stump to fly, or if the stump might persuade the bird of rootedness?