As his unusual name suggests, Ogilvie Kidd struggles with a double identity. He’s usually known as Kidd, the freestyle BMX bike rider who takes air on his backyard half-pipe, revelling in the sheer physical edge of the sport. On a dare, he enters a poem about freestyling in a contest. When the poem is published in the local newspaper, his dilemma begins. His mother is elated that the genes for poetry have somehow been passed from his grandfather, and his studious friend Roland is pleased that Ogilvie has finally exercised his genius. But his best buddy, Couch, a confirmed jock, can’t reconcile the cool dude he knows with his stereotyped image of poets as being both dead and boring. Og’s internal conflict is heightened when he learns that a champion freestyle biker is coming to town. How will the champ react to a bike freak who dabbles in poetry?

Like many adolescents, Og is trapped in an image that does not completely fit. This novel is most successful when Og privately explores the two dimensions of his personality – when he commits himself completely to the fluid energy of biking, and when he is moved by his grandfather’s poem found in the attic. During these moments, the character of Og lives.

But when the conflict is externalized and Og interacts with other characters, the writing becomes more stilted, less compelling. Roland and Couch are polarities who seem to speak more powerfully to the message of the novel than they ever do to flesh-and-blood Og. Predictably, Og comes to realize that poetry and freestyle biking can be perfectly reconciled, that both involve a magical, suspended “spot in time.” The Half-Pipe Kidd, for all its sensitive and humorous bits, might have benefitted from such a synthesis. As it is, the reader craves a more natural, meaningful rapport between the central character and the other characters who embody his choices.