My Misadventures with Gayliena

First of all, I'd like to thank Marilyn for guest blogging with us yesterday. I hope all of you will check out her book and her website.
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I promised last time that I relate some of my trials and tribulations with my first warmblood and a mare, at that. I bought Gayliena, AKA Gailey, as a barely broke 3-year-old with an attitude. She didn't haul in a trailer but we managed to get her in and haul her straight to a trainer's. After a recent injury on a horse, no way was I breaking a young horse, especially a HUGE young horse.

Six months later, I brought her home. She still didn't load. In fact, her trailing issues had turned into a full-blown phobia. Even worse, the only way I could ride her without her balking and threatening to go up, was by begging my daughter-in-law to stand in the arena and hold a lunge whip. As long as Cindy held the whip near my mare, she'd move forward. So that's how our summer went.

I couldn't haul her to lessons because she wouldn't load. To make matters worse, she'd chase me around her paddock with her teeth bared or turn and try to kick me. Yes, it was the summer from hell. I can't tell you how many times I sat down and cried regarding my supposed dream-horse-turned-nightmare. I couldn't even sell her because how can you sell a horse that won't load? I'd ridden horses all my life, but they'd always been dead broke and safe about about 4-5 inches smaller. This mare was way beyond my abilities at the time.

Realizing I wasn't getting anywhere on my own, I enlisted the help of the first in a long line of cowboys (horse whisperer types) to help me. After a year of working with the first cowboy, I had a mare that no longer chased me around, and was actually quite personable and sweet under her alpha mare exterior. We could "join up" and trot and canter safely around the arena.

One problem, she still didn't load. He tried everything, then conceded that he didn't know what to do. So he referred me to his mentor, a man who was a disciple of Buck Brannaman. Off she went to Greg's place. In two weeks he had her loading.

Life was good. I was hauling to lessons. We were finally on-track. In fact, I learned a very important lesson that summer from my dressage trainer. The mare was a bluffer. If you called her bluff, she'd back right down. She was also a little lazy and bucking and rearing were way too much work. Once I realized that she was actually quite safe under saddle, things improved in leaps and bounds.

Until the day that I hauled her to a horse show with an undetected wasps nest in the manger area of the horse trailer, and we were back to the drawing board.

To be continued...

"You're Writing a Novel About What?" by Guest Blogger--Marilyn Fisher

I'm very happy to introduce our first guest blogger, Marilyn Fisher. Marilyn is the author of "The Case of Three Dead Horses."

YOU’RE WRITING A NOVEL ABOUT WHAT?

by Marilyn Fisher

My critique colleagues in Virginia were shocked. “About horses that get killed,” I told them. I had good reason. In my home state of New York, where I learned to ride, I had read an article by a vet that still resonated with me. What that anonymous man or woman said was the starting point for my first novel, The Case of the Three Dead Horses, thus turning me into a novelist. Writing the novel, in turn, led to my horse protection web site.

The vet’s story was short, its message brutal. Writing immediately after finishing a necropsy, the anonymous vet said that the horse had died in such a way that its murder could not be confirmed. The killer would have had to have a veterinary’s knowledge of equine anatomy to perform the murder. Because nothing could be proved, the owner would get a large insurance settlement. The tone of the article was tired, bitter. The vet had seen too many murderers rewarded when the method of killing was hard to prove. An insurance company somewhere was on the hook once again. What must have been maddening was the necessity for anonymity. Whistle-blower vets lose clients and may be in physical danger.

Slowly I accumulated evidence about the crime of killing horses. I discovered that no one likes to talk or write about it. On a research trip to Kentucky, I strained to hear the words as a woman whispered a sad story; back home in Virginia, a man wanted me to write an article about horse abuse but his veterinarian friend, who had told the man about it, refused to cooperate with me.

Like all equine fiction writers, I wanted to tell a horse-centered story, in this case, a mystery, with an entertaining, fast-paced plot and characters the reader would have strong feelings about.

Eventually, my novel took shape, the leading character, equine insurance investigator Connie Holt, who has her first experience with the crime of killing horses. Since I lived in beautiful Virginia, I set the story in horse country there. As the novel unfolded, I found myself inventing a lustful state cop, a wealthy, arrogant client, a vet who doesn’t return Connie’s love, and an assortment of other characters, all of whom play a part in her investigation to discover how the horses were killed, why they were murdered, and who ended their lives. One of the joys was creating the horses in Connie’s community, both valuable, highly-bred horses like Woolwine, Quicksilver Magical Pete, Finn Maccumhail, and Ali Ben Bahir, and less prestigious but equally lovable horses like George, Sam and Suzie.

Here’s an excerpt. Connie Holt is on call. At a breeding farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains, a horse lies dead in his stall and there are other complications. Read on:

When the phone on her bedside table rang, waking her out of a deep, dreamless sleep, insurance agent Connie Holt groaned. She’d spent the day visiting three farms to discuss complicated insurance claims the owners had submitted to the McCutcheon Equine Insurance Agency. Since the farms were widely separated from each other in Bedford, Amherst and Nelson counties, she’d been in her truck too many hours. She’d gone to bed around eight o’clock that night, her back and head aching. Now she remembered that it was her turn to be on night duty. The caller was probably her boss, Cary McCutcheon. A horse must be injured, sick or dead somewhere. It would be her job to examine the horse at the site and write a detailed report. Sighing, she put on her glasses.

“That you, Cary?”

“Sorry, Connie.”

She mouthed a silent “Hell!” into the darkness of her warm, cozy bedroom.

“It’s Rod Payson’s horse Woolwine,” Cary continued. “Dead.”

“That marvelous stallion? Poor Rod. First Donna’s death and now this.”

“And to make it worse,” said Cary, “there’s a dead man in the stall. Rod said he knew him. Police are on their way. Rod called them first, then his veterinarian, Jase Tyree, then us. Be careful driving up there, the roads are terrible. Ice storm.” Both of them knew it would be a hard trip to Payson’s isolated horse farm in Amherst County. The hilly roads would be slippery and treacherous.

My horse protection web site at http://www.mmfisher.com/ is “dedicated to the well-being of horses, dream animals who live side-by-side with us.” I’d love it if readers would visit, and drop me a note about anything you see there or read in the novel.

I’m again writing about Connie Holt, with some of the familiar characters from The Case of the Three Dead Horses and new ones, among them, a trainer and jump jockeys. This time, the main plot will be about Connie’s involvement in the International Gold Cup Races of Virginia in which Cary’s fabulous black horse named Darkling Lord is running. She’ll also be unraveling the mystery of two valuable oil paintings, and her personal life will again be affected by the investigation.

I’ll close with some nice words from Shakespeare that I’m sure every rider feels are true: “When I bestride him I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.” Remember them as you ride down those spring trails in the coming weeks.

Marilyn

Jumping for Joy

Hi,

When I was in high school and considering different college programs, I remember my father saying “Whatever you do, make sure you like it, because you’re going to be doing it for a long time.” This was some of the best advice I’ve ever received, and I use it to this day. Writing is challenging and frustrating at times, but when everything comes together to create an exciting story, writing is absolutely wonderful.

I was lucky that both my horses loved their job as well. My first horse, Spencer, was never happier than when he was sailing over a course. He used to be turned out with two aged Morgans named George and Martha. He would gallop around them, away and back again, trying to get them to run and jump with him. George would occasionally lift his head, chewing slowly, with an expression that said ‘Spencer, you have to be kidding. Our running and jumping days are over, son.’ So Spencer would go off and do the jumps in the field on his own. The owner of the facility would sit on his back porch to relax and watch the turned-out Spencer jump for the sheer joy of it. His form over fences was very good, which told me where the talent was in our partnership. It was obvious he didn’t need me in the saddle to be a great jumper, but he loved me anyway, and we had the best time jumping together.

My second horse, Topper, used to be turned out in the indoor ring in the winter, and he did some breathtaking turns and jumps in there. He would probably have had a great time doing some jumper courses if he didn’t have a less than daring rider in the saddle (Ahem…that would be me). Being a kindhearted gentleman, he would instead take me over my comfortable hunter and equitation courses and never yawned once.

One year Topper had a leg injury. I went to an away show with my barn and rode my trainer’s old retired Grand Prix horse, Tron. He was a sweet, wonderful fellow who lived to jump, but arthritis was starting to keep him from the big fences. Occasionally my trainer would feel sorry for him and take a few big jumps to make him happy, but the next day Tron would come hobbling out of his stall. Given this, I thought he’d enjoy my small equitation fences, and he did seem quite proud taking me around my little course, although my husband mentioned Tron was finding the course challenging because he was trying to jump the fences instead of step over them. I ignored this probably accurate statement and listened for the class results to be announced. I was delighted to hear we’d won the division.

My husband and trainer both insisted that if I took Tron in any more classes I should gather my courage and try some higher fences, which would still be small from Tron’s perspective. I was pondering this option as I rode Tron back to the tent where he was stabled. We were relaxing, just plodding along on the hot summer day when suddenly Tron started dancing and sidestepping under me. His whole body was quivering. Startled, I looked up to see we were in front of the gate to the Grand Prix ring. He wanted to go in! He definitely had the wrong rider in the irons for a Grand Prix course. Gently, I urged him on and my heart broke when his head dropped disconsolately. Here, clearly, was a horse who loved his job and jumped for the sheer joy of it.

Now that Topper is in well deserved retirement, he’s still jumping, too. He lives on my in-law’s farm and one day my sister-in-law went to bring him in. She was reaching for the gate when Topper decided to save her the trouble and leaped over the gate to meet her on the other side. At five foot three, my sister-in-law ducked, but only barely needed to. After she got him in his stall, she went out and measured the fence he cleared. Five foot jumps was apparently still well within his abilities and he just wanted to let us know it!

On the days when writing is more like pulling teeth than a generous flow of words, I remember some of the amazing, talented horses I’ve ridden. Their dedication and love of sport run through my head with my father’s words “Do what you love.” I love writing and I love horses. I’ve been truly blessed.

Here’s to a wonderful week for everyone. Happy riding!

Cheers,

Mary

www.marypaine.com

THE FRIST SATURDAY IN MAY

by Kit Ehrman

I spent the afternoon in Louisville today. The magnolias, daffodils, and tulips were in bloom, and naturally, my thoughts turned to the Kentucky Derby. As hard as it is for me to believe, the big race is only twenty-five days and counting.

Time flies.


Statue of Aristides, winner of the first Kentucky Derby.

Considering the fact that my latest mystery, TRIPLE CROSS, is set in Louisville for the running of the Kentucky Derby, you’d think that I’d be a huge horseracing fan when, in fact, I’m not.

I am most definitely drawn to racing, but this is solely a byproduct of my love of the horse, and I have to admit, after Barbaro, my feelings about horseracing are even more conflicted.

Racing is hard on horses, but so are all the equine sports at the upper levels. Let’s face it; as soon as humans are thrown into the mix, our natural competitiveness (and sometimes, greed) causes us to push our horses. So, it’s up to us to do the best job we can to ensure their safety and continued health.

Some will be critical of how we “use” horses, but the truth of the matter is: many of the top equine athletes love what they do.

What happened to Barbaro was tragic, and it broke my heart. But it was an accident. I have admired Barbaro’s trainer, Michael Matz, for decades, having become familiar with him as he competed on the Grand Prix circuit, rode in the Olympics, and later, saved several children when Flight 232 went down in an Iowa cornfield. He is a horseman in the truest sense of the word.

Michele brought up the topic of equine movies in an earlier post. If you haven’t heard about it yet, THE FIRST SATURDAY IN MAY, an independent documentary about the 2006 Kentucky Derby, filmed and produced by two brothers, will be released nationwide later this month, on April 18th. Here’s a clip from the movie:



To learn more about THE FIRST SATURDAY IN MAY, visit: http://www.thefirstsaturdayinmay.com/

I found this wonderful clip on YouTube (from the movie) of Michael Matz introducing Barbaro to his son. It's very sweet and really highlights Matz's temperament and horsemanship. Click here.

So, while I'm not a big racing fan, this excerpt from TRIPLE CROSS, sums up how I (and Steve) feel about racehorses:

There’s something about being on the backside of a racetrack just before dawn that is truly magical--standing along the rail when the light’s just coming up, watching the horses move fluidly across the damp earth, their dark shapes silhouetted against a rainbow sky. You stand there, breathing in the clean air, listening to the steady primal rhythm of a galloping horse, and the rest of the world simply does not exist.

Cheers,
Kit
www.kitehrman.com

My Love Affair with Horses

I've loved horses for as long as I can remember. Some of my first memories are of playing with my plastic horses and sitting on a rental horse named Jughead. By the 3rd grade, I'd read all the Black Stallion books. In fact, my early love of horses probably played a large part in my becoming an avid reader. I read every horse book I could get my hands on. To this day, I have an extensive fiction and non-fiction horse library.

In jr. high and high school, I wrote a series of stories about a race horse (my own version of The Black Stallion). I drew countless barn plans and mapped out elaborate farm designs for the fictitious farm in my stories. And like every other horse-crazy kid, I drew countless pictures of horses. I had a large model horse collection and went the model horse showing route. I even attended some "live" model horse shows.

In my teenage years, when most girls discover boys and forget about horses, I still longed for a horse. I didn't get one until my senior year of high school. The horse was so barn sour, I couldn't ride her anywhere and sold her within a year. That still didn't dampen my love of horses.

In college, I started taking weekly lessons with a local dressage trainer and continued those lessons until I graduated. A friend of a friend of my sister's gave me an Anglo-Arab mare. Felice had been an event horse and had developed navicular at an early age. She'd been nerved in front. As long as she was shod correctly, she stayed perfectly sound. That mare loved to jump. If she could find something to jump, she would, even going out of her way to do it. Of course, I tried to avoid jumping her because of her front legs. Eventually, the cost of having a horse and going to college became too much. I gave her back to her original owners.

After graduation, I continued to take dressage lessons. I bought a thoroughbred who was the sweetest thing on the ground and on the trails, Ram Ruler. Unfortunately, Ram's poor brain had been fried from too many years of racing and "cowboy" polo. If you put him in an arena, he would get tense and literally freak out. He was not dressage horse material. A few years later, I sold him as a trail horse.

Then came Moses Malone. I leased Moe from a pregnant teenage girl for a year then purchased him. He was a five-year-old Morgan/QH cross, a chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. I love that horse. We did everything together. I showed him in western and English pleasure, jumped him, and eventually took him to Prix St. George in dressage. He was the world's best trail horse. You could loop the reins around the saddle, and he'd just saunter along. Moe is still going strong at 29. At 23, I leased him to a couple of nice men who rode him once in a while and mostly have him for a pet. He's living the good life on their little farm.

That brings us to Broker (bad choice of names). I bought Broker from a 'friend.' The third time i got on him, he proceeded to dump me and broke 2 ribs and my collarbone in 2 places. This horse had serious problems that didn't come out the first two times I rode him. Needless to say, he went down the road. The horse bucked and reared like a professional. Three different trainers tried to cure him with no luck.

Last but not least is Gailey. Next time I'll post about my trials and tribulations with my first warmblood. She's been a challenge, but I love her, and she'll always have a home with me.

What a Character!

by Toni Leland

The second most-asked question a writer hears is, "Are your characters real people?" OR, "Am I in your book?"

Any author in their right mind would answer a resounding "NO!" and dodge any further fishing expeditions but, I for one, have to admit that my characters are based on real people, albeit composites that I sculpt to fit the story. And I'm reasonably sure that even the person or persons I use in the formula would not know themselves. Human nature being what it is, though, close acquaintances are always positive they'll see a clue to the identity of my story people. Therein lies the perfect setting for either a lawsuit or a family feud!

Quite a few years ago, a writer published a book that was set in one of the big-breed industries. The writing was not stellar, but the industry itself was fascinating and, of course, anyone connected with it had to buy that book to see if they were in the story. At the height of the book's short-lived popularity, at horse shows it was such fun to lurk around groups of trainers and owners to eavesdrop on their conversations about who, exactly, the author was describing. And, in truth, this author hadn't camouflaged the "real models" very well, so everyone had it figured out within a few months of the book's release.

Writing a fictional tale requires, first, an excellent plot that will keep the reader turning the pages. Then, interesting and engaging characters must make the plot come alive. When Avid Reader begins a book, he or she wants to identify with the hero or heroine ("protagonist" in writer speak). As authors, we must build a character with a believable background, a believable personality, and believable goals. And we have to effectively present this story person to Avid Reader in the first few pages, or we've lost our audience.

Here's another version of the characters question: "Is your main character really you?" This one's tough because every writer puts a little or a lot of themselves into the story line and the characters. For instance, I'm terrified of large dogs, allergic to bee stings, and always on a diet. These tendencies or quirks do often show up in some of my characters. They just appear—I don't plan to use them. But the fact I've loved horses all my life is the biggest "me" trait that I instill in my characters, and I do that on purpose!

What kinds of story people do YOU enjoy most?

'Til next time....
Toni

http://www.tonileland.com

Read an excerpt from DEADLY HERITAGE now!

The Real Horses Behind the Books

by Laura Crum

In my latest mystery novel, Chasing Cans, just out this month, Gail McCarthy, my equine veterinarian protagonist, acquires a pony for her child. This particular plot device never would have occurred to me were it not for the fact that several years ago I acquired a pony for my little boy. I had never owned a pony before and Toby was an education to me. I found the little critter so endearing that I just had to write about him, and Toby our pony is faithfully described in Chasing Cans, though the way in which Gail acquires him is rather different than the way in which I came by the real Toby.

This is often the case with my equine characters. Over the course of my ten mystery novels, I’ve based virtually every horse that Gail encounters, owns or rides on real horses I’ve known. Gunner, who is Gail’s main mount through most of the books, is modeled on my own horse, Gunner. He is accurately portrayed as to appearance (a fifteen-three hand Quarter Horse gelding with white socks, a blaze and a blue eye), personality and quirks (the real Gunner is a big spook, as is Gail’s “Gunner”), but the living horse’s history is a bit different from the fictional one.

Gail acquires her horse Gunner when a veterinary client refuses to spend the money and time it would take to allow the horse a chance at recovering from severed flexor tendons. (This occurs in my first novel, Cutter.) Gail takes the horse to save him from euthanasia. (The story is also based on a real horse; it just wasn’t Gunner.)

The real Gunner’s life history is rather different. I acquired him as a three-year-old, just as Gail did her Gunner. I was twenty-five years old and working for a prominent reining/cowhorse trainer who shall remain nameless. As his assistant, I rode a string of eight horses every day; these were horses that, for whatever reason, he didn’t care to ride. Some he considered less talented, some were in the barn just to be broken and the owners weren’t interested in showing them, some had a bad attitude (poor me)…etc. Gunner was in my string because the trainer wasn’t collecting training fees on him; the horse was just there to be sold. Gunner was a well-bred and talented cutting and reining prospect, and the trainer thought that not only would he collect a fat commission when he sold the horse, he might also be able to place him with one of his own clients who would then pay the trainer to ride the horse and enter him in the major cutting and reining futurities. Needless to say the price tag on this horse was high. He was probably the best colt I had in my string; he was also a very likable horse.

Just as he is described in my books, Gunner had a friendly, clownish personality, a willing and cooperative nature, and tons of athletic ability. He came to me with about thirty rides on him, and I took it from there. He was always an easy horse, never prone to bucking or other negative behaviors, other than his penchant for unexpected sudden twenty foot sideways leaps whenever he saw something worth spooking at, which was often. He never dumped me (and never meant to), but it was a near thing more than once.

Despite the swerves, I loved riding Gunner. It amazed me how quickly this colt came on and how much “cow” he had. As the months passed with no buyer coming up with the purchase price, I grew fonder and fonder of this horse. I began hoping desperately that no one would buy him; I dreaded his removal from the barn or seeing him placed in the trainer’s string (by this time I’d had lots of experience with the well known trainer’s rather harsh methods and didn’t want to see this kind, willing colt subjected to them.)

Eventually the day came. A prospective buyer was due to arrive, one who would surely buy Gunner. He was a rich man; the purchase price would mean nothing to him. He was known to be looking for a good futurity prospect and to like Gunner’s breeding. The trainer was very keen to make the deal. I gave Gunner a bath with tears running down my face. That morning, despite the fact that I had no idea where I would get the money, I told the trainer I would give him the full price for the horse and wrote and handed him a deposit check.

I’ve never regretted this decision. I borrowed the money to buy Gunner and I left that trainer’s employment almost immediately thereafter. I trained Gunner myself and showed him at some of the reining and cutting futurities as a three and four year old, winning some very minor awards. Gunner became an accomplished cutting horse over the years and I won many events on him eventually. Later I trained him to be a team roping horse and competed on him for several years at ropings. I still own Gunner; he’s twenty-eight, sound, and retired in my sixty acre pasture. He’s been my friend the whole time.
Photo: Laura Crum and Gunner winning the cutting class at the Santa Cruz County Fair.

Gail’s Gunner is given a slightly different history. She never uses him as a cutting horse, but does compete on him at team roping in Roped, my fourth mystery novel. In Slickrock, the fifth book in the series, she rides him on a major pack trip through the Sierra Nevada Mts of California. Though this pack trip is based on many pack trips that I made over those same mountain passes, the mount that I used on those trips was Flanigan, a horse I also rode for years and loved dearly, just as I did Gunner. Flanigan loaned his skills as a team roping horse and his quirky personality to Burt in my third novel, Roughstock.

Photo: In the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California

So the horses in my books are real horses, although almost all of them are in some ways combinations. One horse’s personality and appearance grafted on another’s history, so to speak. (This is the way I create my human characters as well. ) And though I give Gail some of my own life experiences, her responses are uniquely her own. Thus my mystery series is a tapestry of fact and fiction, which I hope will engage readers in much the same way that the real horses and life changes have engaged me.

Here’s to the three “Rs”—reading, writing and riding!
Laura Crum
www.lauracrum.com