i can ride my bike with no handlebars

"handlebars" by flobots & new year reflections

I have never been a confident bike rider.

For one thing, I learned relatively late. I remember riding a bike with training wheels still on it around the neighborhood when I was 9 or so — definitely old enough that I at least felt like everyone was looking at me, kids and adults alike, thinking, “how does that kid still have training wheels? Surely she’s too old for that?”

(Of course, in retrospect, I highly doubt anyone was looking at me? And if they were, like, so what? Decades and many, many moves later, what am I supposed to do, still lose sleep over what some jabroni standing in his driveway watching me pedal by might’ve thought?)

When I was older, 12 or so, I had a friend who lived across the street who was a few years younger than me. She was always wanting to ride bikes, and my mission was to find clever ways to put her off without having to admit I didn’t know how. (I delayed getting glasses I really needed for YEARS with these same type of tactics — what can I say, I was stubborn and secretive lol.) I don’t own a bike, I’d say truthfully, or I’m too tall to ride your old bike, that kind of thing. But then one day she got me in a corner — “My sister said you can use her bike! And you’re about the same height, right? It’s perfect!”

I was caught. Done for. Obviously, I’d have to come clean, just confess that I’d never learned.

UNLESS.

“Absolutely!” I said. Then I slung my leg over the bike, and took off down her driveway.

It was truly a WILD thing to do. What did I think would happen. Except what happened was that for a brief, thrilling thirty seconds I WAS RIDING A FUCKING BIKE. I coasted perfectly down that driveway and into the street, the wind was in my hair, holy shit I was doing it, I must be a bike GENIUS because I just jumped on and it’s like my BODY KNEW WHAT TO DO, and then . . .

I slammed right into a mailbox.

Despite the ignominious ending, I have a very good memory of that experience. I wasn’t too banged up from the mailbox (and was able to quickly pivot with a, “Your sister’s bike doesn’t feel like what I’m used to, anyway, let’s go play inside again,” sometimes I wonder if this friend ever thinks of this moment now and goes to herself, “100% that girl didn’t know how to ride a bike, right? it was so weird that she just wouldn’t say that?”). It felt really empowering, to have even those thirty seconds of doing something I previously didn’t know I could do.

Flash forward almost ten years, when I’d ride a bike around my college campus every once in a while. Not a ton — I never did become fully comfortable on a bike, even after I’d “learned” — but it was a quick, easy way to get to class. One morning, I was running late for my history final (uh oh), so I jumped on a bike I’d borrowed from my roommate (oh no), wearing flip-flops instead of real shoes (hey, it was Florida, and the stereotype of my college was that everyone was barefoot all the time, so). I was in the worst possible position to take a steep, narrow downhill bike ramp with a 90-degree turn, and I didn’t make it. I hit the wall, turning the bike enough to scrape up my side and slam the bike into my body. All told, I wasn’t nearly as badly hurt as I could’ve been — and I made it to my history final with bloody knuckles, which was pretty metal — but I was like, that’s it. I’m done. No more bikes for me.

All I ever wanted was to be a Prickly Weird Misunderstood Girl with Her Bike, a la Winona Ryder in Welcome Home, Roxy Carmichael.

They say, “do one thing every day that scares you,” but I’m not about that life. For starters, that’s a LOT. Every single day?!?! I’m grinding to keep my Duolingo streak alive (419 days, baby), I can’t possibly add another daily thing to keep track of. For another, I think it’s okay to have a few fears and just not face them. Healthy even! Afraid of the dark? That’s what nightlights are for! Afraid of heights? Think of how much money you can save, not needing to go up to the top of the Empire State Building! We all need a few good fears. Keeps us humble.

But I’m being a troll, and deliberately misconstruing the quote. I do understand the point about stepping outside of your comfort zone, of not always believing the story you might have told yourself about what you’re capable of. I got a new bike for Christmas, and I set ONE goal for 2024: get comfortable enough that I could ride up to our local grocery store all by myself, for an errand like grabbing creamer for my coffee when I run out. It’s approximately a mile, it’s an easy ride through fairly quiet streets, it is an almost LAUGHABLY small goal but for me it felt huge.

I haven’t done that yet, BUT. In the week that I’ve had the bike, I’ve already:

• ridden approximately 10 miles total (according to the ride tracker app I dowloaded);

• gotten comfortable enough with turning and maneuvering that I navigated a few tricky bits and felt like a BMX-er, I stg;

• gone on a few night rides (I interrupted writing this newsletter to go on one with the fam!);

• discovered a tiny little meditation garden I never knew was there by riding down a path I’ve never explored before;

• ridden back by the bike shop so we could show off to Geoff (a perfect name for a guy who works at a bike shop!!!) how well we’re doing! Look at us go, Geoff!

In this brand new Bike Era, I’ve had this week’s song in my head a lot. It’s a song about the power humans have and the way we use it — for creation on a small personal level (me and my friend made a comic book); for destruction on a large global level (I can guide a missile by satellite).

I’ve been feeling very powerless — as I know a lot of us have. I would say “in 2023” but then I want to say, actually, since 2020 . . . wait, probably since 2016 . . . and then I start to think, wait, when did you last feel like you had power? and it’s one of those retirement savings commercials with the blinking cursor.

But of course I do have power. We all do. When I looked back on 2023, I found myself reflecting on things through that lens. I published With Love, from Cold World, and connected with so many people through it. I ended up having a lot of really heartfelt discussions with people about LGBTQ+ rights in Florida, the foster care system, family trauma. I heard from people about how much Lauren and Asa meant to them. They mean a ton to me. And I’m always scared to make a big deal out of that, even to myself, but I also think it’s good to stop once in a while and say I CREATED SOMETHING BRAND NEW AND PUT IT OUT INTO THE WORLD AND THAT’S NOT NOTHING. I put my heart into that book and that’s not nothing.

One goal I’d privately set for myself this year was I wanted to raise $10k for LGBTQ+ charities. It was arbitrary — just a number I came up with and thought, I don’t know, shoot for the moon you’ll land among the stars. I admit there was a whole swath of the year where I forgot about the goal, and so I fell far short of it by the end. I ended up raising (including my own donations) approximately $3,196 — the majority of which was a fundraiser for Zebra Youth I’m still running over on my Instagram ($1,450+); a previous fundraiser for Zebra Youth I connected to a Paramore zine I made ($570); and then a bunch of smaller donations and fundraising for Metro Inclusive Health, CampOut, National Center 4 Trans Equality, OUTMemphis, and various others, several in connection with the Trans Rights Readathon that bookstagram put together. It’s not as much as I hoped, but it’s not nothing!

I know this discourse went around a few weeks ago, and god I hate discourse, but I do believe reading is political. Whether we make our reading choices consciously through a political lens or not, they are inherently political. What trends are being written about; what books are getting marketing push; what we’re engaging with and allowing space in our lives; these reflect our culture. They create our culture. So I do feel powerful even in what I choose to read, how I engage with those books, how I can connect another person with a book in a way that might have a lasting impact. When I tell you that I always love to hear if someone picks up a book based off my recommendation, I mean it. Connecting over books is very important to me. And if the algorithms and the status quo are going to push certain books on us, I believe we have the power to change those algorithms and status quo by pushing back. Make an intentional effort to read more diversely, to put your dollars toward those books, to talk up those books. We do have power as consumers, and we can use it!

Look, I’m so sorry this newsletter has devolved into some cheesy be the change you want to see in the world shit, but it’s just the thing I am most taking with me into this New Year. The stories we write matter — to ourselves if to no one else — so if you’re planning to write a novel this year I say DO IT. The stories we read matter — so be thoughtful and intentional about what you take in, and don’t be shy about sharing it with other people. We can vote, we can call our reps, we can community organize, we can fundraise, we can boost other people who have been fighting these causes longer than we have, we can be a good friend, we can be a good neighbor, we can put a LOT out into the world and you just never know what will mean something to someone or what else you might inspire, so why not? We have one life, right, so why the fuck not see what we can do?

This is the problem with me getting on a bike again. Suddenly I feel invincible and like I could do anything I set my mind to. But that’s not a bad way to begin a New Year, surely. Doing one thing that scares me every day, until it doesn’t scare me anymore.

The top commenter isn’t wrong. I still can’t ride a bike with no handlebars.

Currently reading . . . I took a road trip with my romance book club down to the soft open of Steamy Lit’s new bookstore in Deerfield Beach (yes, started by Mel who ran Steamy Lit Con last year!). It was an absolutely charming space and I’m delighted to have such a cute romance-focused store close to me (“close” in relative terms . . . Florida is a long state!). I picked up the library binding version of Ali Hazelwood’s YA debut Check & Mate and am really enjoying it! I’m also always obsessed with a library binding (where the image is printed right onto the hardback, without the need for a jacket. Sexy!)

Steamy Lit has some AMAZING special editions in particular. I bought the Library Binding version of M.A. Wardell’s Mistletoe & Mishigas, and already owned the Leni Kauffman illustrated jacket version of The Art of Scandal by Regina Black.

watching . . . There’s something I love about watching the same thing everyone else is. It’s what can make the Super Bowl fun, even if you’re not into the game itself — so many conversations to be had the next day about the commercials, the half-time show. I’ve been getting a lot of mileage out of the hour I watched of New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrest. The Mother of Fitness! LL Cool J! “Have you heard of 30 Seconds to the Moon?” my father-in-law wanted to know. He thought they were badass, how they just had a singer and drummer out there. (And a presumably session guitarist on the side stage who was never shown lolol, sorry, buddy!). I think Green Day played “Basketcase” and “Welcome to Paradise” and NOT “When I Come Around” specifically for me, because the latter is one of my personal Depression Songs and if I heard it on New Year’s Eve it would’ve been too much!!! I still don’t know that I would know Ryan Seacrest if I passed him on the street.

listening to . . . I kind of couldn’t believe that my top artist for 2023 turned out to be . . . Third Eye Blind. But then the more I thought about it, the more I was like, hell yeah! I only really GOT INTO this band in the last year and if I need proof of what I can do if I put my mind to it well HERE IT IS. I’m legitimately a little bit proud of this accomplishment, because it tells me that it’s never too late to get into something, that even something old can be new to you, that you can find a lot of joy jamming out like it’s 1997. I was so proud of it I decided to put the accomplishment on my business cards I impulsively had printed for this newsletter:

The problem is — and many of you already know this — Substack hasn’t had the best track record. First it published and promoted many writers perpetuating anti-trans rhetoric, and then recently it came under fire for platforming Nazis and doubling down when confronted about it. I really enjoy writing this weekly newsletter. It’s one of my favorite things I do. And while my newsletter isn’t monetized, I know by hosting it with Substack I’m still participating in this ecosystem. I do not want to be a part of perpetuating any of that. At the same time, I am also increasingly frustrated by the ways that platforms get “taken over” by bad actors and then leave us scrambling to find solutions that are often less elegant or with less reach or with sometimes only moderately better ethics. What I like about Substack: you can post both publicly and send an email; there’s a built-in community where you can cross-post to other newsletters, recommend others, comment on each other’s, etc.; and it’s free no matter how many subscribers you have. If anyone has any good alternatives to suggest, let me know.

preordering . . . I just decided to add this category! Let me know if you like it! Basically, I’m trying to be a little more on top of my preordering this year so I look ahead to the next week’s books and figure out if there are any I want to preorder because now I’m a slut for a signed book with swag. (NOT that those are the only reasons I will preorder!! Just saying, I do love it.) So I’m going to start highlighting 1-2 books that are publishing in the next week on my list to preorder.

Releasing January 9 is Red String Theory by Lauren Kung Jessen, but the Parnassus website says preorders need to be in by January 5!!! See, this is EXACTLY why I need to be more on top of my shit!!!!! I loved Lauren’s first book Lunar Love so I’m really looking forward to this one!