In the tradition of BECAUSE OF WINN-DIXIE and THE BEAN TREES comes a novel that charms and amazes, with a voice that draws you in like a warm-hearted charismatic friend. Cedar B. Hartley is exasperating and potentially infamous. She steps on cracks. She plans to live an unusual life. She is the winner of her school's Bat Pole Championship, (which she made up). She misses her brother Barnaby, who ran away, and who sends her postcards from all over the country. And she's definitely a hopeless winker—both eyes go at once, like a blink. But Cedar B. Hartley has potential. She knows the difference between touching and touching on a couch. She knows the long distance between an idea and the real thing. And she has a green thumb for people, which will come in handy as she discovers truths about her friends, her family, and her life.

Sono alla stazione di Spencer Street. Quella grande, dove arrivano treni dall'intera nazione. Se mi vedeste, non credereste ai vostri occhi. Non credereste che sono io. Direste: "Ma quella è davvero Cedar B. Hartley? Accidenti, se è cresciuta." Cioè, fareste questo commento se foste, non so, degli over cinquanta. Altrimenti pensereste: "Mmm, quella tipa, cavolo, non è più una bambina."