Jump! It was fun to do when you were three years old, in puddles, off curbs or, heaven forbid, off roofs where your mom said you’d “break your neck.” Van Halen told you to do it, the Pointer Sisters and Count Basie made it bounce, and the Stones made it flash. And in the new book, “Daughter of Daring” by Mallory O’Meara, one woman made it pay. When Helen Gibson was born in 1892, it was a time for little girls to act like proper, well-bred young ladies. Fortunately for Helen, her parents didn’t follow those rules. Helen was allowed to climb trees and play in the dirt near their Cleveland home which was, perhaps, a sign of things to come. By 1910, Cleveland had nothing for a girl like Helen, so after working briefly at a factory, she struck out for a life of excitement. She landed in Oklahoma, at a ranch that offered Wild West shows, where she learned trick riding and other fearless ways to delight customers eager for thrills. Entertainment, says O’Meara, was one of the few ways a woman in the early twentieth century could make a decent living while having some degree of independence, and that new kind of lifestyle was usually found in the West. In the sleepy town of Los Angeles, California, for example, a woman who wanted to seize adventure could easily find a friend or two, an inexpensive camera, and the thinnest of plots. She could make a moving picture – and she could get famous doing it. Still, despite that, fame eluded Helen. After leaving Oklahoma for L.A., where she made a good living, it just wasn’t enough. She wasn’t afraid of danger or hard work or risky stunts. None of that mattered – she just wanted the acknowledgment she felt she deserved. All she needed was the right kind of movie. You can almost hear the tinkling of a slightly out-of-tune piano and the clickety-click of an old-time projector as you’re reading this book. It’s as if you’re sitting in a dark room, circa 1925, and you’ll be thrilled, but not necessarily by the action here. The thrills come with knowing what’s been hidden so long, and the truth of what once drove the movies we loved. Author Mallory O’Meara tells a secret, the revelation of which is way overdue and quite surprising: women, as it turns out, were major movers in film a century ago, and in more ways than one. For her part, Gibson was the first stuntwoman – O’Meara nailed the details and the tale is well told – but Gibson wasn’t an “only.” The rest of the story – of her story – is as addictive as buttered popcorn. So, grab a bucket of salted goodness, find your favorite seat, and get ready for this real-life Perils of Pauline-like (1914) tale and the audacity within it. If you love a good movie, look for “Daughter of Daring” and jump on it.