Writing Between Rides

Writing A Life With Horses certainly was a trip. At first I wasn't sure I would remember many events of my childhood but, as I wrote, a funny thing happened - the words opened up my mind. I not only remembered, I was there! All my senses came alive. I could smell the caragana blossoms my brother and I rode through; I could feel my horses's back round as she slid down the butte; I could taste the fresh clear water of a mountain creek. As the words poured out, one memory led to another, events I had long forgotten.

For several months, on my limited writing schedule, I wrote only as the stories came to mind. At that point, I had not even decided to write a book - I was only documenting memories. As the words turned into paragraphs and into possible chapters, a book plan slowly formulated. I would thread the horse stories through my life story. It made perfect sense because, although many things changed in my life, my love of horses did not.

In December of 2006, I moved to my present home in the Chilcotin region of British Columbia. Since I was able to take only three of my horses with me, I had a little more time in the winter, time to work on A Life With Horses. During the next three months, the book took shape. I knew how I would start the book and, eventually, how I would end it.

In the spring of 2007, with a new property to develop, the book was on the back burner again, but I made sure to touch base with it at least once a week. I also thought about it a lot when I was riding or doing other jobs around the property. Ideas would pop into my head and many times I wished I had a recorder or a piece of paper. Slowly, but steadily, A Life With Horses was taking shape, but a very long way from being finished! I was not in a hurry, though. I had no deadline.

The Birth of My Baby

In April 2010, A Life with Horses was released. Although essentially happy to see it, at last, in print, I am also at loose ends. For the past few years, when I had a few minutes away from my real business, Wildwood Reining Horses, I was creating it.

I should have started this blog when I started writing A Life With Horses, but 1) I'm not sure blogs existed then, 2) I didn't know about them and 3) I didn't really have time to write a book, let alone keep up with a blog. So I'm starting now and starting at the beginning.

For several years, friends encouraged me to write a book, to put my horse stories in print. My answer was always the same: "I don't have time." Then circumstances motivated me to start. My husband moved out.

Alone, I certainly didn't have more time for writing, but I needed to believe in myself, to believe I could do something on my own, even if no one knew about it - maybe especially if no one knew! I sat down at the computer for at least an hour every day after morning feeding to write.

At first I didn't have a plan - I just wrote anything that came into my head - but soon it became obvious that all my stories had a horse in it somewhere. I had no desire to write about my failed relationship or the heartbreak of it (there are plenty of books on that subject) so naturally I wrote about what I knew best - horses. Ideas multiplied as I typed. One story led to another - horses I had almost forgotten, horses I would never forget. That's what my book would be about - my life with horses.

I agonized a little over the title. I should use something catchy? My mind went blank. Or simple - My Life With Horses. In the end, I replaced "MY" with "A". I thought it said it better and had all the elements of the book in a short, simple phrase - life and horses. For anyone who knows me it kind of said it all.

I did not want to categorize the book as a memoir (too many of those!), but I had no choice. It is indeed a memoir, but only a memoir of the "horsey" part of my life. Of course I would have to include pertinent facts as the story unfolded, but only as structure for what was most important - my horses!

So for more than four years, I have been writing and re-writing chapters for A Life With Horses. Many times, I wanted to write all day but could not. Several times, my hour turned into two until I reluctantly left the computer to ride my horses (my real job)but I persevered. After a year of this kind of sporadic writing, I had an outline and a few chapters roughed out.

The book was far from finished...