Often when reading a ballet memoir they fall into 2 camps. Either they are so measured and completely on brand message (love you Misty Copeland but you fall into this category) or they descend into bitchy tell-all's. This book is neither. I read it in one sitting on a plane from Australia to the US and what stuck me most was his raw honesty and grace. I became aware of David the human and his work early in his stay at the Australian Ballet. I remember reading a snippet and willing him to get back to dance, knowing that to make such a sacrifice, to put yourself in a position of complete surrender can only yield results. Reading this work is inspiring to me as a busted-ass adult ballerina as it so gracefully captures the innate need to dance - just as surely as you breathe.