"Childhood" is the theme of the latest in my series of pocket-sized, beautifully designed, ferociously curated, impeccably edited, feminist-minded, bicycle-oriented nonfiction publications. I call them zines -- you might call them small books or magazines, pamphlets with high production values, chapbooks without the poetry, or just plain good reading.
The stories in these 40-some pages are true. And they cover all sorts of ground, from the memory of running away from home by bike at age 7 to parents' stories of how they manage bicycling with kids of all ages. Some are funny, some are visionary, some are sad.
This volume is inspired by the family biking revolution that's becoming impossible to ignore on the streets of Portland and other cities. After a few decades during which kids have been actively discouraged from cycling, two wheeled youngsters are back with a vengeance, riding on their parents' bikes or at large under their own steam. It's a hopeful sign.
These zines owe much of their mojo to their contributors, who I'm looking forward to introducing to you in more depth once I've read through the stack of submissions and made the hard choices about what goes in. Also, I'm excited to have another talented illustrator on board for this issue, Portland-based bike advocate and artist Britt Appleton. This issue promises to read great and look great, and I can't wait to show you the finished product.
Quick note: If you're a parent, this volume is for you to enjoy, rather than for your kids. Though it's probably suitable for sharp teenagers, who will be totally nonplused to discover that you read zines -- a reason to subscribe if there ever was one.
Thanks for checking out this project and pitching in -- your participation is essential to making this happen. All the money raised here will just about cover printing and postage. If the project doesn't succeed, it won't go to print. I'll be adding more fun one-off rewards as I think of them, so check back often.... you're free to switch around between them once you've pledged.
Rock on, and thanks again,
- (21 days)