Middle Grade Monday: The Adventures of a Girl Called Bicycle

Title: The Adventures of a Girl Called Bicycle
Author: Christina Uss
Publisher: Margaret Ferguson Books, 2018. 320 pages (hardback)
Source: Library digital resources

Publisher's Blurb:
Introverted Bicycle has lived most of her life at the Mostly Silent Monastery in Washington, D.C. When her guardian, Sister Wanda, announces that Bicycle is going to attend a camp where she will learn to make friends, Bicycle says no way and sets off on her bike for San Francisco to meet her idol, a famous cyclist, certain he will be her first true friend. Who knew that a ghost would haunt her handlebars and that she would have to contend with bike-hating dogs, a bike-loving horse, bike-crushing pigs, and a mysterious lady dressed in black. Over the uphills and downhills of her journey, Bicycle discovers that friends are not such a bad thing to have after all, and that a dozen cookies really can solve most problems. 


My Review:
I didn’t know what to make of this book at first. The idea of a 12-year-old riding a bike across the country alone was intriguing, but unlikely. That she’d been raised by Mostly Silent Monks gave me my first clue that “absurd” was an okay way for this story to be. It’s a testament to what a good author can do with an absurd premise to make a real point.

Bicycle is launched on her adventure because she needs to make friends. Her guardian thinks that she needs the services of “The Friendship Factory,” which guarantees a kid will make 3 new friends at their camp. Bicycle wants friends, but she doesn’t want the kids on the bus to camp.

It’s evident from the beginning that this is a case of the kid knowing more than the adult, and seeing more clearly. Bicycle’s idea is a long shot—to attend the Blessing of the Bikes in San Francisco and ask the cyclist, Zbig, to be her friend—but at least she knows you don’t make friends in a factory. And it turns out that she kind of has a gift for friendship, though it takes her a while to recognize it, and Sister Wanda even longer.

I was a bit bothered by the way the author played fast-and-loose with geography in places (maybe all over, for all I know—I only know the geography of the West well enough to catch her). Bicycle's entry into Yosemite from the East is really an entry from the West, and I almost laughed when Bicycle rode right into the campground in the Valley and got a campsite (yeah, you need reservations). And, of course, the laws of conservation of mass and energy don't seem to hold in places. Anyway, in the end, none of that mattered, because it was just a fun story with a strong message about being yourself and letting friendships happen.

My Recommendation:
A fun read, and a good reminder for readers of all ages that it's better to be yourself than to try to be someone else's idea of who you should be.

Full Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of The Adventures of a Girl Called Bicycle from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

Flashback Friday: Take a Zero

Since I’m not really even sure what day it is, let alone what month, I’m going to toss out a Flashback Friday today (which turns out to be Friday where I am, though in fact the first of the month, not the last—I know this thanks to the calendar in Blogger). I decided to take a quick look back at my first year of blogging, and stumbled on this post that still seems relevant in most ways.

Reposted from Dec. 20, 2012

Take a Zero

I've been catching up on some through-hikers I was following last summer.  For those of you who aren't backpackers (in the US sense, not the European sense), through-hikers are people who hike an entire long trail (Pacific Crest Trail, Appalachian Trail, etc.) in a single season (well, more like 3 seasons, starting very early in spring and continuing until they arrive at the end or snow gets too deep to manage, whichever comes first).  I'd been following a couple of PCT hikers, and got distracted, so I went back yesterday and read the blogs all the way through, since they were all off the trail by late October. I don't know if this sort of thing is meant satisfy my desire to do a long hike, or feed it, but that's a post for another day.

What I wanted to talk about was the concept of a "Zero" or "Zero Day".  A day in town or camp when you don't hike anywhere.  Zero mileage.  When you are trying to cover 2660 miles between late March and first snow in the North Cascades, you think a lot about miles (you also think a lot about miles between food drops, since taking a day too long could mean a day without dinner, not something you want to consider when hiking 20-25 miles/day).  Spending a whole day without gaining any miles can be hard.

What I got to thinking about this afternoon is how hard it is for me to take a Zero, to stop doing all the things I'm supposed to be doing.  Now, granted that on those "Zero Days" the hikers usually kept plenty busy--laundry and shopping and eating as many meals as they could jam in--in a sense they didn't do any of what they were there to do, i.e., hike.  That's the beauty of a Zero.  Just don't do it.

Maybe that's behind the old religious prohibition on doing any work on Sunday.  If we humans don't know enough to take a rest day when we need it, maybe we need an outside force telling us to, before we burn ourselves out.  Around here in the U.S. we've pretty much forgotten about that whole Day of Rest thing, but I'm old enough to remember when very very few stores were open on Sundays, and most people (except ministers) took the day off.  Everyone took a Zero and was the better for it (eventually my Mom stopped cooking on Sundays, too, though not for religious reasons.  She just needed a day off).

So today I really haven't done much.  I finished two books last night, and read another clear through today.  It was past time for me to do that, and it meant, as much as anything, getting the heck off the internet (where I'd been all yesterday afternoon, reading about through-hikers. . . ) and just reading a book.  But I was also feeling pretty guilty.  Not doing any writing, not cleaning up the post-holiday mess, just indulging myself.  Like I did when I was a kid--curled up with a book for hours.

But here's the thing: on my "Zero", when I'm kind of beating myself up for not doing anything productive, I have puttered at a number of minor kitchen chores, baked a batch of bread, done a load of laundry, finally pulled out my dead and dying tomato plants and spaded compost into the beds to rot the rest of the winter in preparation for the spring planting, and cleaned up the mud I tracked into the house afterward.

See what I mean?  I'm not too good at taking a Zero.  Okay, yeah, I can take a day off from writing, especially the revisions I'm supposedly working on right now, all too easily.  But the rest of my job is that of chief housekeeper and I can't seem to let it go.  But the thing is: if the hikers don't take a Zero now and then, they break down.  The body just won't keep it up, the mind wears down.  Next thing you know, you've left the trail for permanent, not just for a day.

Now, I've a hunch that "trail fatigue" might happen to writers, too.  Take a break or get the boot.  I'm not so sure about housework, but I do know that a) it will never go away, and b) it will never go away.  It'll still be there tomorrow.  Take a Zero.  Read a book and let the dust bunnies thrive one more day.

Fiction in 50: Icy Fingers

Fiction in 50 is a regular feature in the last week of every month and I invite any interested composers of mini-narrative to join in!

    

What is #Fi50? In the words of founder Bruce Gargoyle, "Fiction in 50: think of it as the anti-NaNoWriMo experience!" Pack a beginning, middle and end of story into 50 words or less (bonus points for hitting exactly 50 words).

The rules for participation are simple:

1. Create a piece of fictional writing in 50 words or less, ideally using the prompt as title or theme or inspiration.
That’s it!  But for those who wish to challenge themselves further, here’s an additional rule:

2. Post your piece of flash fiction on your blog or (for those poor blog-less souls) add it as a comment on the Ninja Librarian’s post for everyone to enjoy.  
And for those thrill-seekers who really like to go the extra mile (ie: perfectionists):

3. Add the nifty little picture above to your post (credit for which goes entirely to ideflex over at acrossthebored.com) or create your own Fi50 meme pic….
and 4. Link back here so others can jump on the mini-fic bandwagon.
At this time, I haven't been able to find a source for a free linky-list, so it's just comments. I recommend posting your basic blog link below, with the day you post your Fi50 story. You can also add a link in the comments on my story, posted the next-to-last Sunday of the month. Feel free to Tweet using the #Fi50, though I'll not lie: the Ninja Librarian is a lousy tweeter.

I will do my best to visit if you post, but the first half of 2019 I will be away from the computer a lot, so be patient! 

My story follows--the prompt for January is:

Icy Fingers

I can’t manage the ropes with mittens, so I take them off, hurrying to tie the knots that will keep me alive. It’s a race against the cold.

I’m starting to fumble; I can’t feel my hands.

I shudder. The icy fingers I feel on my neck are my own.

###

This one came really fast, maybe the quickest of any I've done. I hope you like it! 

 

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2018
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!