It's not courage

 Sometimes I get a thing in my head that won't go away until I find a way to do the thing, even if it's so outside my comfort zone I'd rather just not do the thing.

"Sometimes" happened recently.

I'm not a singer. Yes, I can carry a tune, but I have a narrow range, very alto. I sang in the choir from third through eighth grade, always the alto section which was never the melody. It felt like I sang the same three notes for six years. In high school when it was time to audition for choir, I just...couldn't. Didn't. Walked away from it and never looked back.

I had to start singing again when I was a waitress at Farrell's Ice Cream Parlor but that was different because it was always "Happy Birthday" and everyone was singing along and nobody was in any kind of key at all.

My worst problem with singing is I tend to freeze when I'm asked to sing in public. Freeze as in, I can't even remember the melody of the damn song.

So when a friend of mine gave me an idea for a Christmas song about horse trainers (mine in particular, but it applies to all), I wrote it immediately and wanted to make a video but really didn't want to sing it myself. But there was no one else to sing it.

It doesn't help that my son is a marvelously trained and talented singer and I've listened to him sing with other trained and talented singers and I KNOW I am not trained, nor marvelously talented.

My son tried to give me a few tips on singing, which I tried to take to heart. He also helped me with the music. I'm still not a singer but the song is fun and I sang all by myself and released it to the public. It's not courage. It's just a thing I made because I had to.

PS, it may be on YouTube but I'm not so courageous as to leave comments on. Thanks, but the trolls can stay home!

Reflections on a horse show

I normally post horse stuff on Snoopy's blog, but I haven't figured out quite what to do about that, now that Snoopy is living la vida grande at the retirement home and horse shows involve my new horse, Dhani.

I feel like a traitor.

But this post is about more than just showing my horse. It's about perception and expectation and trying to see one tree when it's the forest that's in view.

I was excited to go to the Sun and Surf Circuit in Del Mar. I love Del Mar. Niki and I usually have a great time, the arenas are nice, and there's a couple of restaurants I enjoy (perhaps a little too much). Got my bags all packed by Tuesday night, loaded up Wednesday and off we went. I was showing on Thursday and Saturday, and Niki was showing on Friday.

On Thursday, Dhani was a little "on the muscle" -- that is, he wanted to GO. There were seven obstacles. Throughout each obstacle, I got him to the correct line, felt confident that we were doing well, then over the last pole, I'd hear "thunk." He hit it with his back foot. Every. Freaking. Obstacle. At the end, we had to walk through a gate, over a pole. He actually stood on the pole with one delicate hoof.

No, this does not count as an "extra." My placing and my scores reflected the go. Not good.

On Saturday, I vowed to do better. It was a horrible warm-up. I felt like my legs weren't pushing into him enough, I couldn't get him to lift his back and legs. He was clunking one pole in everything I tried. I was fighting for everything. I went into the arena on the verge of tears.

The first obstacle was my nemesis from Thursday, the gate with the pole. Dhani crept toward it, bent his body around the gate, picked his feet up oh-so-carefully, and walked on. I was heartened. For, like, 20 seconds. This time, I think he hit poles on four of the seven obstacles. The obstacle I worried about the least ended up looking sloppy because he kept taking a baby stride before going over the pole (also known as "chipping"). The obstacle that I had practiced and practiced, he acted like he'd never done before, so I ended up dragging him around it. By the time we got to the backup, he was sullen and I was teary-eyed again. We at least finished with a lovely walk over the last poles.

Niki tried to tell me that a lot of it was good, but I didn't want to hear it. She reminded me that this was my first show in the upper division, which I knew, but I discounted it. I was upset. 

"We aren't getting any better," I told her.

"Yes you are getting better," she said. "The courses are getting harder."

She reminded me of all the mistakes I used to make that I didn't make. I found my lines, I steered my horse, I was able to correct him in the moment. I kept him moving forward. I focused.

I took everything in that she was saying and thought, "Okay. Sure. But I still sucked."

Until I saw my score sheets. Yes, I was penalized for all the poles he hit, but I got a lot of plus points for doing some things well. My scores were high. I even got 3rd place from one judge!

My expectation was that, because I'd been improving at the lower level, I'd continue that trajectory when things got harder. That was incorrect. Harder means you start building again.

My perception was that I had done a horrible job on the course. That was incorrect, at least in the judges' minds. I'm always going to be more critical of my performance than anyone else is.

I was so focused on doing it PERFECTLY that I could not see past my mistakes. That was unfortunate, because I forgot to go out and have fun seeing what Dhani and I could do together.

What did I learn? That expectation is a joy-killer, perception needs time to cook properly, and you should always remind yourself of your intention before you dive into anything.

I feel better now.

My side of the story

Snoopy has written in his diary today about how he got a stomach ache yesterday and just had to lay down. (See "Tummy trouble") What he glossed over was the fact that I was on him, in the saddle, when he decided to do this.

I've seen horses go down with other riders. As a matter of fact, I was riding Copper, my trainer's old show horse, when I watched my friend Christine get her leg caught under her horse Murphy when he decided he wanted to lay down and roll. (He was a young horse.)

I had watched Niki riding Snoopy before I got on him. He seemed to be quiet and responsive to her commands. He had started the day quite perky. Ate his breakfast. Pooped a bunch of times. Poop is important with horses. It means everything is cycling correctly.

But he did a funny thing while we were adjusting the stirrups for my turn to ride: he began to paw at the ground. It's not that he never paws. It's that, given the opportunity to try to bite me or Niki, he would never spend time digging in the dirt.

Once I was on him, it felt hard to get him to walk. Nevertheless, I pushed him forward by constantly fanning my legs on his sides. Niki told me to stop every once in awhile to move him around by one leg, so I stopped, preparing to pivot his back end around. That's when I heard Niki yell.

"Kick him! Kick! Him!"

Too late. I felt his front end sink down and watched his knees hit the dirt. It was all very slo-mo. I remember thinking, which way is he going to fall? His weight went right, so I kicked my leg out of the stirrup and dove right, away from him. I probably looked awkward as hell, but I felt like a super hero escaping a trap.

Next time, I'm wearing a cape.

We walked him and watched him and walked him again and worried. There's nothing like seeing your horse down, legs tucked under his belly, head lowered and mouth pinched - I confess, I wanted to weep a little. But after the second walk, he perked up. I mean, really perked up. As in, hanging his head out the door and asking for food.

We decided not to give him more than a handful of hay. He disagreed, but what can he do? Until he can unhook his door and help himself to dinner, I still have a smidgeon of control.

Today I've heard that he is up and about, eating and pooping.

Life is good and every day is a blessing.

What I do know.

Before I begin, I need to give you my Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa gift spiel:

Visit my Amazon page to get the right book in the perfect format for you!

Back to business: this post is a companion piece to something I wrote for my alternate universe, Crime Fiction Collective, about writing what you know. Go read that first. Here's the link. Go on. I'll wait here.

Now that I've told you all about how I write about what I don't know, I'm going to talk about the perils of writing about what I do know.

I'm putting Peri on the shelf briefly, and writing a new mystery with new characters. No, I don't know if it will become a series. Yes, Peri will be coming back.

Have I answered all your questions?

The thing is, this mystery will include one of my great loves - horses. While at a horse show in Burbank, I was walking up to the barn one morning when I saw the pile of used shavings at the end of the aisle and thought, what if there was a body under there?

And that's the way most mysteries are born. I decided that this would be easy. I know a lot about horses and horse shows and I have more than a couple of experts to answer any questions.

Now that I've started plotting and developing characters, I've discovered this will not be as easy as I believed. Knowing too much about a world might be more challenging than knowing too little. I need to write about the world so that horse lovers get enough horse stuff, but mystery lovers are not bogged down in too much horsefeathers.

Not only that, but as big as the AQHA (American Quarter Horse Association) is, it's a small community. Everyone seems to know everyone. I can't make any of my fictional characters resemble anyone real. Harder than it sounds, people.

Even the crime and its motivation must be handled with a special touch, since I'd hate for the AQHA to think that I think there are crooks and murderers around every corner.

I am nothing if not stubborn, so this book will get written. It will just have a HUGE disclaimer.

Me and Snoopy at the Del Mar National Horse Show

What about it, writers? Is it easier to write what you know or what you don't?

Beautiful.

It's no secret, to anyone who knows me, that horses are my passion. I started my writing career when I bought my first horse. I cannot explain the way they affect me, but it's beyond love.


I saw this show several years ago. I highly recommend it, and would see it again.