The Tillie Ride

The Middle of the Story

Posted on by Posted in The Backstory, Training .

Every good story needs a conflict. Here’s one for the story of the Tillie Ride. Right now, I’m supposed to be working out hard at the ‘Y,’ getting ready for our big distance bike trip in May from Grand Rapids to Chicago. This looks like a gym, right?

But wait, is that a … bed?

Yes, I’ve spent the last four weeks in the gym at Health Motion Physical Therapy working out on a “hand bike” instead of a spin cycle because I injured my shoulder.

I come here three times a week to work with my physical therapist, Laura. Every time I come, she tests my muscles to see what is still hurting. This is called muscle testing.

I am smiling through the pain.

Laura has done an amazing job. Lots of hands-on therapy that can really hurt, but I’ve seen such an improvement in my shoulder pain. I have to do my part, too. This includes mobility exercises and ‘postural re-setting’ exercises. I can’t resume my training until I’m cleared. In addition to that, it’s pretty cold and snowy in Michigan right now. The other part of the conflict here in the middle of the story is that I’m kind of blue about it all. I need to figure out a way to get motivated and back on track. I have an idea. I will keep you posted.

Another Great Review for Tillie

Posted on by Posted in Reviews, The Backstory .

This one will appear in the 12/15 issue of Kirkus:

Here’s another great review of TILLIE, which will appear in the December 15 issue of Kirkus:

TILLIE THE TERRIBLE SWEDE
How One Woman, a Sewing Needle, and a Bicycle Changed History
Author: Stauffacher, Sue
Illustrator: McMenemy, Sarah

Modern bike-riding kids do not realize that for women at the turn of the 20th century bicycles equaled freedom. For Tillie Anderson, it was the ticket out of her job in a tailor shop and into the world of racing and fame. In Tillie’s day, women cycled in long dresses, gracefully navigating figure eights or circles around a ladylike maypole, never being seen with “bicycle face.” With her trusty needle and thread, Tillie sewed a close-fitting, scandalous suit for riding, allowing her to enter real bike races. Loose, dainty watercolors employ an old-timey palette and give this historic tale the right touch of humor. Tillie is always surrounded by white, making her easy to find in the race scenes. Each spread is full of movement, with circles and ovals playing their proper role in this tale of athleticism, women’s rights and freedom. The endpapers extend the story—the opening shows women’s fashions and the closing recounts the highlights of Tillie’s life in racing. (author’s note) (Picture book/biography. 6-10)

Go Tillie!

Posted on by Posted in Reviews, The Backstory .

Just learned that “Tillie the Terrible Swede” received a *’d review in yesterday’s Publisher’s Weekly. Hoorah! Ignore the retail price–this is the price for the library binding.

*Tillie the Terrible Swede: How One Woman, a Sewing Needle, and a Bicycle Changed History
Sue Stauffacher, illus. by Sarah McMenemy, Knopf, $20.99 (40p) ISBN 978-0-375-84442-3
Reaching back more than a century, Stauffacher and McMenemy resurrect the story of pioneering woman cyclist Tillie Anderson–and make Lance Armstrong feel like yesterday’s news. Racing in a self-created aerodynamic outfit (hence the needle reference in the title), Anderson both scandalized and thrilled 1890s America as she shattered records for speed and endurance, leaving competitors and conventional wisdom in the dust. At first, McMenemy’s (The Busiest Street in Town) doll-like characterizations and pert settings seem too dainty to serve the story of an athletic heroine and her frenzied times, but within a few pages Anderson’s unstoppable determination and energy read loud and clear–in fact, McMenemy proves that the diminutive can also be indomitable. Stauffacher’s (Nothing but Trouble: The Story of Althea Gibson) writing is as sprightly and heartfelt as ever, and to her credit, she connects Tillie’s accomplishments to the building women’s rights movement. An excellent afterword, tucked on the inside back cover, provides fascinating historical context for Anderson’s story. Worthy of taking its place beside You Forgot Your Skirt, Amelia Bloomer! and other top-notch junior histories. Ages 5–8. (Jan.)