Writing it Right, by Lisa Wysocky

As equine authors, we all want to get not only the story right, but also the horse part of it right, too. Everyone here is an experienced horse person, and has a broad base of knowledge that we incorporate into our books to share with our readers. However, it is amazing the number of little facts that creep into the story line that need to be researched, not once, but several times. We need to be thorough on our research because, if we get it wrong, at least one reader will step up to call us on it.

I think we’ve all read a book where the author gets a basic fact wrong and it takes us out of the story. That should never happen. Even in fiction, there are facts: a horse is measured in hands, a hand is four inches, there is no palomino color in the Thoroughbred breed. If we as authors get it wrong, we have done our readers a huge disservice.

I showed Appaloosa horses for many years, and the question of their point system came up in my newest Cat Enright cozy mystery, The Fame Equation. I knew how it worked. Or did I? After reviewing the current rulebook and a number of websites, I finally went to the source and called the person at the Appaloosa Horse Club who was in charge of their points system. Yes, I was right. But if I had not been, I would have alienated a lot of readers, and worse, my readers would have lost trust in me.

Quincy is a solid colored registered Appaloosa, but he looks so much like a

Thoroughbred that even his vet and farrier worked with him for

three years without realizing his actual breed.

Authors can never assume.

That is the real concern. If a reader cannot trust an author to get a basic fact correct, what about everything else the author writes? How many other mistakes, factual errors, or misconceptions are there in a given book? I write both equestrian fiction and nonfiction and am sure to find at least two credible sources for every fact I am not 1000 percent sure of. That is maybe a little over the top, but I have written a number of horse books and no reader has yet called me on a fact. I’m sure that day will someday come, and when it does, I will welcome it, for readers are truly the final authority.

• • •

Lisa Wysocky is an author, clinician, and registered PATH instructor who helps people learn about themselves through horses. Find her at LisaWysocky.com.

A Day in the Life of an Author

The day in the life of an author is not what most might think. Of course, it varies from author to author, just as the daily routine might vary from one accountant to another. And, when you mix horses in, the daily schedule takes on a life of it’s own.

I can’t speak for other authors, but I know that I need to write in the morning, when my mind is fresh. Usually, I do a quick read through of yesterday’s work, then dive right in. If I am writing nonfiction, something such as a book on horse training, I have an outline to follow. Those of us who publish with traditional publishers have most likely sold a proposal, a detailed outline of the proposed book, to the publisher, and the author needs to follow that outline. Nonfiction is a little easier on my brain, as I write facts, hopefully in an engaging narrative.

While other authors might outline their fiction, I do not. I know it sounds strange, but writing my Cat Enright mystery series is almost like having a conversation with my characters in my head. I sometimes even have disagreements with my characters about how the story should unfold. My saving grace on that front is that I have heard other fiction authors say the same thing.

I usually write for several hours, or until lunchtime. Then it is time to get down to the business of being an author. My booking and literary agents usually have sent some emails for me to respond to. When that has been dealt with I perform the necessary evils of social media and updating my website. I look over any contracts for speaking, horse clinics, writing, or “rights” sales (audio, trade paperback, foreign, etcetera), and sometimes speak to my co-authors about contracts and offers. In addition to horse books I sometimes co-author or ghostwrite autobiographies with well-known people. My books are published with a number of different publishers, so I take calls or answer their emails as well. On occasion, there is an interview to do.

By mid to late afternoon I am ready to head to the barn. Sometimes I teach a riding lesson or two, other times I feed, mow, groom, fix fences, haul hay, do groundwork, or even ride. After an early dinner I read over my morning’s work and make changes, then create a to-do list for my writing for the next day.

Of course, there are interruptions to this basic schedule. Conferences, clinics, book signings, and speaking engagements (and the travel to and from) happen regularly. A horse might become sick, or I get edits back from my editor and hunker down for several days to get through them. Sometimes I find I just need to take a morning to pick up and organize the chaos that has developed around my writing space. But somehow, books are turned in on deadline, horses get fed, and I can’t wait to get up in the morning to start it all over again.

Show your horse the world

Tonight I rode JJ up and down hills in the semi-dark, with a howling, biting southerly wind, and made him canter underneath big thrashing pine trees while other leaves blew across the ground at us. 

Yesterday I schooled him by the Pony Club club rooms while the local emergency services were there for a training exercise - ambulances and fire engines with their lights going, the helicopter flying in and people standing all around.

On Sunday we schooled next to a rugby tournament with plenty of yelling and whistles and hooters and speakers and crowds, and he was very patient with the small children who ran up and wanted to pat him, and the dogs that barked and lunged to the ends of their leashes at him. 

       

So when people say "I can't believe you ride your horse on the road" or "Wow he's so brave/bombproof", here's the thing. I have gone out of my way to train him so that he is that way! 

   

If there is a miniature horse convention at the measuring stand, or dog agility training, or a bicycle race with paletons of riders, or someone zorbing down the hill at the park, JJ gets to go and see it, and then gets ridden nearby so that he learns to a) see the world and b) still work despite what's going on around him. 

       

This is why he's brave, and why I can ride him on the road with buses and cars and motorbikes and cyclists all zooming past and he doesn't bat an eye. 

  

  

And don't get me started on the things I've taught him to jump over...

which is why fill doesn't bother him either in the jumping ring! 

Today we're off to our first show this season...it's just a local schooling show but I can't wait to get him back in the ring and ready to roll!

The Benefits of Thinking Like a Horse

by Lisa Wysocky

Predator/prey differences aside, there are many differences between horses and humans. Horses hear higher and lower sound frequencies than humans do, and they can hear sounds that generate up to half a mile away. People, however, can better isolate where those sounds are coming from.

Humans have eight to ten thousand taste buds, while horses have up to twenty-five thousand, to better differentiate safe plants from those that are toxic. A horse can smell his owner up to three hundred feet away, and if the temperature and wind are right, from much farther away than that. Other than food, humans are lucky to smell something that is thirty feet away.

As humans, we try to impose our human experiences onto horses, and that is an impossible task. From the way horses process thought, to how they see, even to how they process touch, theirs is a world apart from the human experience. We then, have to become more horse-like. We have to step up to try to understand the horse’s experience from his or her viewpoint. Horse spook at a plastic bag one hundred yards away? It helps to know that horses cannot judge distance as well as people can. When we start thinking like a horse, our reactions––such as praise, reassurance, or discipline––to their behavior then becomes more appropriate. 

  

 I find it is the same when I am writing. When I write, I try to think like my readers. How will an average reader interpret a scene, or a character’s line? Will my description of a round pen, for example, make sense to a person who does not know about horses, yet not be too elementary for those who do? As a reader, I would much rather have the comfort of a concise, accurate, and thorough description of an object or a process, than have the “Huh?” experience. So, that's what I try to write.

I have been very fortunate to have my nonfiction books about horses and horse training diligently edited by people who are seasoned horse people, because people who are serious about their equine friends are the ones who will be interested in those books. On the other hand, I am equally as fortunate to have a woman who knows little to nothing about horses edit my Cat Enright mystery series. Even though I try to think like my readers when I write, I sometimes forget that not everyone knows what a fetlock is, or why a character might pull up on a saddle pad so it does not lay down hard and flat across a horse’s withers.

As readers and writers, and as people in general, it probably is a good idea to consider the end user. Whether it is a conversation with a teenager, a report sent in to a supervisor, or a trail ride with your favorite horse, considering their experiences, thoughts, behaviors, and emotions, will always make your life experience easier, and more fulfilling.

Why Write About Horses?

by Toni Leland

My name is Toni Leland and I’m a horse addict. 

Seriously...I could have been the poster child for the classic horse-crazy girl.

I discovered horses when I was about 8 years old. Unfortunately, about that same time, I discovered my father was terrified of them and that there wouldn’t be a horse in my future any time soon. So to fuel my passion, I hooked up with another horse-crazy girl. We spent hours talking about horses, dreaming about horses, pretending we were horses. . .the boys on the playground were terrified of us!

 

I took it one step further and wrote stories about horses. Girl rescues horse. Horse rescues girl. Horse and girl have an adventure. . . I wish I had some of those stories now. Anyway, when my BFF got her very own horse, I was both thrilled and devastated. She no longer had much time for me and our imaginary steeds, and I began trying to convince my father that a horse would be a good thing for me to have. He relented the year I turned 15 and, from then on, my life revolved around horses—sometimes more, sometimes less.

But one thing remained constant. To this day, even though I no longer have horses of my own, I still get that quickening in the pit of my stomach any time I’m near one.

Write what you know and love. The writing experts have it nailed.

 

When I set off on this journey of writing fiction, I naturally settled into the comfort zone of my addiction.

My first book was a romantic mystery, built around the Arabian horses I raised in the 80s. Though they were long gone, I held them near to me as we worked our way through the story and revisited characters from those years in the “horse business.” The process was sometimes painful and poignant, but it was also energizing. I’d found my niche.

As Winning Ways finished, I was already well into my next novel. Being fairly adventurous, I’d decided to see if I could write a straight romance—follow the formula, but write one with a horsey setting.

I was a little skeptical about the endeavor. After all, when does a busy horse owner have time to date, let alone nurture a strong, loving relationship? And into what niche would an equestrian romance fit? When Hearts Over Fences hit the streets, I quickly learned that I had no clue as to “what works.” The book exploded in popularity and, today—many years later—it is still a top-selling title in both print and ebook.

 

So you’d think I’d jump on this gravy train, right? Nooooo. I was already off on another tangent. I wanted to write a thriller about the possibility of terrorism in one’s own backyard, er. . . barn. After Gambling With the Enemy was published in 2006, I headed back toward romantic suspense.

Deadly Heritage embraced that age-old theme of love lost and found. But my characters were constantly challenged by danger and family treachery.

As the nation’s economy nose-dived in 2009, so did business. Horse farms and breeders were deeply affected as the cost of keeping animals skyrocketed. If you can’t feed ’em, what do you do with them? Horse rescue operations were overwhelmed and the horror stories began to hit the news.

Addressing two similar subjects, I began work on Rescue Me, the story of a horsewoman trapped in a brutally abusive marriage. The research alone on this book made me ever thankful that I didn’t have source material from first-hand experience.

Always a fan of Dick Francis, I began thinking seriously about a mystery series. What I needed was a couple of independent, horse-loving individuals who would save the horse world, case by case. Never did I imagine what hard work this would be! But the team of Kovak & Quaid was born in 2012 with Double Exposure, and they've been chasing bad guys ever since!

My lifelong love affair with horses has served me well...given me joy and inspiration, and a ton of memories. Now if I can just get them all down on paper....

Baby

Those of us who blog here are passionate about two things: horses and writing about them. Most of us ride. We live all over the world and interact with horses in different ways, but we all love everything about the horse.

While we love all horses, some inevitably become more special to us than others. You have probably found that to be true as well. It may be that one horse has a funny personality quirk, or is kind, or is exceptionally beautiful. Those special horses get pulled into our hearts and stay there forever.

I am fortunate. My heart is filled with many special horses. I have written a lot about my first horse, the white Appaloosa mare Snoqualmie, and her son, Ben, in some of my books. Valentino, the little rescue horse who could not relate to either horses or people and who eventually became the 2011 PATH International Equine of the Year is another horse who fills my heart. I have written about him in several books, too.

There is another very special horse on the cover of my most recent book, Therapy Horse Selection. Baby is a black Tennessee Walking Horse/pony cross. At just 14.2 and twenty-plus years, she is the senior mare in her herd and plays the grandma role very well. No drama. Lots of patience. She is also polite. Each time a human comes into the paddock area for the first time on a given day, Baby whinnies in welcome. I always half expect her to pull out iced tea, lemonade, and cookies, as any Southern hostess would do.

Baby also makes her people do it right. Whether it is teaching therapeutic riding instructors how to ground drive, or a teenaged girl with disabilities to ride, or a young man with autism to longe, they have to ask correctly. Baby is the very best teacher and I love her dearly.

I use present tense, but that is not exactly correct. You see, we lost our beloved Baby last Saturday. A neighbor waved to her in the pasture while she was grazing peacefully with the rest of her herd at eight in the morning. By ten o’clock she was in the throes of a bad colic, so bad that her veterinarian could not save her. Hours later she was buried in a corner of the pasture, near a wooded area and stream where she liked to hang out on hot days.

All of Baby’s horse and human friends, myself included, grieve for her. Today when I went to the barn there was no welcoming whinny from a quiet, patient little horse and my heart did a number of sad somersaults inside my chest. Yes, Baby was, is, special, and she will always remain in my heart. My remembrances of her and all the lessons she taught me will live on through me, and in everyone else, horse and human, that she impacted so positively. RIP Baby. Good girl.

Why Amazon Rating Stars Are Like Dressage Scores

by Lisa Trovillion

When my book came out I compulsively checked the reviews on Amazon, tracking the number of stars.   Phew! Still in the 5-star range...that's good.  Or is it?  Star ratings are highly subjective, and like a numbered score for a movement in a dressage test, they are an artificial indication of what the rater wants to impart. You've got to read the narrative.

I've seen star ratings range from very low to five without much written to support the score.  And that's where the real meaningful information is found.  A less than five rating in Amazon may be accompanied by one of the best reviews your book has ever received.  There is something to be said for a book that is receiving ratings that run the gamut; It's more likely they were written by real readers and not just "friends and family."  Like it or not, we can't please them all!

Similarly, I would snatch my dressage test after a ride and immediately run my eyes down to the bottom right corner to check the final score.  Okay, that's human.  But what I was missing was the insightful and often helpful comments accompanying the score for each phase of the test.  Those comments, often complimentary, may have received only a luke warm score.  The horse showed promise and was executing the movement correctly--only lacking impulsion or some other fine point that could be corrected in the next go around or the next show opportunity.  Same as the criticism of a story.  Take heed, because sometimes the more critical comments have something to offer (as much as we all hate to hear it.)

Although dressage judges are professionals who have studied in order to wash away all subjectivity and to produce scores based on a standardized ideal, since they are human we know this standard does not really exist.  How many of us have chosen to show before a particular judge because she likes your type of horse or because she is generous with the "nines"?  I'll admit it.  As for readers, well, there's no real standardized ideal story, but there are elements of each and every novel that a reader will look for: conflict, characterization, pace, setting, making them care, etc. If they don't find it, they might call you out on it, and sadly, we can't always pick our readers/reviewers like we pick our judges.

I'm giving myself this lecture because I know I need it.  I need to grow a thick skin and possess a brave heart.  Putting a novel out there for any and all to review is scarier than riding down center line for a tough judge on a horse fresh off the racetrack.

I don't want to be somebody who used to ride

by Kate Lattey

I have always loved horses. As far back as I can remember, I had pictures of horses on my walls, read book after book with ponies in them. I even strapped a pillow to the bannister of our staircase for a saddle and tied a rope around the upright to create a bridle, and the unimaginatively-named “Brownie” and I headed off on many adventures.

My first taste of the real thing came when I was about seven years old, at a Kindergarten fundraiser that offered pony rides. “Pony” wasn’t the most accurate description of the huge Clydesdale mare, but I dutifully paid my 20c and perched up on top of her as she ambled around the park. The pony books I’d already devoured went flying through my head, as I imagined myself on par now with those heroines and heroes who galloped recklessly across the countryside, the smell of fresh air and heather in their nostrils. I took a deep sniff myself, wanting to have a personal experience to apply to such descriptions, but all I got was (as later recounted to my mother) “a sort of poo-ey smell coming from the horse!”

I began riding lessons when I was ten, presumably to prevent me from wearing the bannisters out completely, and two years later my parents agreed to buy me a pony of my own. A palomino mare turned up on trial, and it seemed as though I’d tumbled headfirst into my daydream. My very own perfect golden pony out in the paddock, visible from my bedroom window…it was like something out of a book! I was lucky enough to have grown up on a farm, although my parents weren’t horsy folk, and I’d spent the past year working at the riding school every weekend, leading scruffy ponies through the mud and learning how to tack up and untack and pick out hooves and avoid being bitten, so although I was still very green, I had a solid foundation to start from.

As it turned out, that palomino mare was not my dream pony. She was extremely moody and stubborn, I could barely get her to trot let alone canter, and when she bit me while I was out talking to her in the paddock one afternoon, we decided we could probably do better for a first pony. She was sent back, and the search resumed.

It didn’t take long. After one disastrous attempt trialling a beautiful dark bay pony who bolted on me, I learned to judge by more than appearance, and we found a pony just down the road from us who was apparently as quiet and safe as can be. For the nervous child that I was back then, he seemed to tick all the boxes, and as soon as I sat on Whisper’s back I knew I was in safe hands (or hooves, as the case may be). Dutifully purchased and ridden home across the neighbouring paddocks, my life with ponies and Pony Club began.

Early days at Pony Club on Whisper (left)

Whisper was followed quickly by Tessa, about six months later, who came from just a little further down the road, due to Whisper’s unfortunate health problems. (He stuck around for another couple of years, but passed away in the paddock about three years after purchase. He was the sweetest pony though and I was very lucky to have had him.) Tessa was a solid-built chestnut mare with a heart of gold but no great enthusiasm to go any faster than absolutely necessary, and she gave me an immense amount of confidence.

My first One Day Event on Tessa

Two years of Pony Club went by, and I went from being the nervous kid who was barely brave enough to canter, to one whose reluctantly cobby pony was holding back her ambitions. And so Tessa was put on the market and we started looking around. A local family were selling a gorgeous pinto pony with the wonderful name of Mr Mistoffolees, but he was deemed by my parents to be “too expensive”, and we shortly afterwards bought a mare for half the price, after travelling for 2 hours to see her. (To this day, it’s the furthest I’ve ever gone to buy a horse!)

Minnie was a feisty, hot Anglo-Arab mare with a shining bay coat and a pretty head with a white star. She loved to move, hated to stand still, loved to race, and hated to jump. Unfortunately we had bought her as a jumper, but my ambitions to compete in eventing and show jumping competitions were quickly scuppered as she refused to jump, again and again. And as I fell off, again and again. I was eliminated at the first fence in most competitions we entered – in fact, in the ten years that I owned that pony, we only ever managed to jump two clear rounds (they were so rare that I remember them both clearly!).

Minnie warming up for a XC round -
we had something like 20 refusals this day!

It was a bitterly disappointing time, and sometimes I still look back and feel regret that we had bought a pony who had not been what she’d been sold to us as – a bold jumper who would never refuse. A bit of investigation post-purchase revealed that she had a reputation for refusing and had been doing so for many years. A harsh life lesson to learn about believing what you’re told!

I did discover, however, that Minnie’s strength lay in mounted games, and we started competing seriously at gymkhanas, raking in the ribbons. Flag race, barrel race, bending, tin can, potato race…you name it, she'd win it - and when she didn't, it was usually my fault. Now it was me letting my pony down, and we practiced hard to reduce the chance of that happening! We still crashed and burned in the jumping events, but we won almost everything else.

Then one of my friends who was grazing her stunning grey Arab pony at our farm turned 17. In those days, the day a rider turned 17 was the day they could no longer compete on a pony in most New Zealand competitions. (Here, almost everyone starts out on ponies and only moves on to riding horses when they are either far too tall, or have turned 17 and aged out of pony classes. Ponies are highly valued and can go for a lot more money than a horse of similar age and ability, and we have some exceptional ponies competing in this country.) My friend offered me the ride on her pony until he was sold, and said I could take him to a show on the weekend.

A hasty last-minute entry and I turned up to Levin Sports with two ponies in the float, feeling quite serious and professional. Minnie turned her usual tricks, refusing most of the jumps and getting us eliminated in every class, but Caddie was quite the opposite. Although we didn’t manage any ribbons, he jumped four clear rounds for me that day and I went home on cloud nine. It wasn’t my fault that my pony wouldn’t jump. It wasn’t because I couldn’t ride, or didn’t want it enough, or wasn’t aggressive enough, or any of the other myriad reasons that I (and other people) had given me for why I was failing so spectacularly with my other pony. It was not my fault. I think I’d known that, deep down, or at least had wanted to believe it. However those doubts had already instilled in me a determination to be the best, most accurate and balanced rider possible, to give my pony every opportunity to excel, and that determination still carries me through today.

Breezing around the XC on Caddie the day after I bought him

 I wanted to buy Caddie then, more than anything. His owner wanted me to have him, knowing it would be a good home. My parents said “But we already bought you a pony. It’s not our fault that she’s no good at jumping.” So we brainstormed a solution, and it was this – they would buy Caddie, and I would pay them back by working at our family plant nursery every weekend for the next year.

So I did. I got up early on Saturday mornings and washed pots and potted plants and weeded gardens and hated every minute of it. Then I got up early on Sunday mornings and we trundled off in the horse float with Caddie (and sometimes Minnie too) to One Day Events and show jumping competitions. The day after we bought Caddie I took him to a show, and finished 2nd in the Pre-Training (80cm/2’9”) eventing class, with the first clear cross-country round I had ever jumped in my life. One year later, at the same event, we won the Training (95cm/3’) class with one of the best show jumping rounds I’ve ever ridden in my life. 

Caddie was sold shortly afterwards before I went to University, and went to a loving home where he lived well into his 30s. Minnie stayed with me – nobody else wanted her – until she broke her leg in a paddock accident almost ten years to the day that I bought her. No matter the heartache she’d caused me over the years, it was one of the worst days of my life when I found her in the paddock with one leg held up, looking at me with such relief that I was here now and would fix it.

After I graduated, I was supposed to get an office job and live in the city. This was my mother’s plan for me, and what was expected of me, and I did both of those things. But I also got a job teaching riding on weekends, and for a year and a half I commuted back and forth every weekend to trudge around the paddocks chasing reluctant ponies, and stand in the middle of the indoor school chanting “Up, down, up, down” at small children. It was hard work, but it was rewarding and it was fun.

When I decided to go to a summer camp in America, half of the appeal was the chance to go over there and ride. Pony Club Camp was always the highlight of my year and the thought of three months of pony camp instead of just one week was an intoxicating one. My first summer in New Hampshire set the tone for what was to be a huge part of my life. I returned to the camp four more times, have visited twice since, and am currently planning to return in a couple of months’ time. It truly is my home away from home, and is where I met the horse that I will always remember as my soulmate.

Bittersweet, the best horse I've ever ridden

After camp, I started going on to work somewhere else - but still not far from horses. No point in going to England to work in an office when you can work on a livery yard, right? I spent nine months living in a trailer in Epsom, working 10 hour days looking after other people’s horses for a pittance of a salary and a day and a half off a week, learning about dressage, and hacking around the Common in the frosty mornings.

Riding Kaneel, one of our livery horses in England

Later, I worked in Ireland for nine months, in a tiny village on the outskirts of a castle, taking tourists for rides around the castle grounds on homebred Connemara ponies, and spending hours drinking mugs of strong tea in the kitchen of the family home (the only warm room in the house!).

A rare sunny day in Ireland with Connemara pony Spruce

 Since returning to New Zealand, I have bought myself a lovely Welsh Cob x Thoroughbred gelding, who originally came to me as a greenbroke six-year-old who just needed some mileage. He’s now a serious prospect in Show Hunter (Hunter Jumper) competition, and with his cheeky personality and “pony brain”, he’s a blast to have around.

My current horse JJ (Fox in Socks)

 
I have always read pony books and have been writing pony stories since I can remember. I used to cut photos out of magazines and paste them into a special blue hardcover notebook that I had. Each page belonged to a different character, and showed all of the ponies that they "owned". Some of those characters (and their ponies) are still around in my stories today - Brad & Pip Harrison, Pete & Susannah Andrews, Steph Marshall and Abby Brooks all had their origins in that old notebook.

Writing is hard, and time consuming, and infinitely rewarding. I write the books I want to read, the stories that I couldn’t find as a pony-mad child. Books that reflected my own experiences, about people growing up in New Zealand, riding down the beach to get to Pony Club rallies, and camping out in their scruffy old horse trucks at shows every weekend. Chasing sheep and jumping gorse bushes and riding with just a piece of baling twine around their pony’s neck, dumping each other in water troughs and riding in gumboots and shorts, building jumping courses out of old metal drums and spindly tree branches. Being responsible for their own ponies, learning from their mistakes, getting knocked down and getting back up again. Not always winning, not always succeeding, but learning to put their pony first, no matter what.

Horses are inescapable. They get into your blood and you can’t walk away. There’s a line in my first novel “Flying Changes” that I wrote many years ago, when I was battling to continue working with horses instead of spending my life in an office. They are words that I’ve lived by since, and hope to continue to live by for the rest of my life.

I don’t want to be someone who used to ride. 

Check out my books Flying Changes, Dare to Dream and Dream On on Amazon, and visit my website at http://nzponywriter.com for reviews and upcoming releases!