Guest Post: Art Imitates Life by Jennifer Walker

Work: day off.

Jennifer Walker is on a virtual book tour promoting her new book, Bubba to the Rescue. During her VBT, Jennifer is appearing at various sites around the Internet [full schedule under Upcoming Events]. Just as much work. Fewer airports. Welcome Jennifer:

They say art imitates life, and in the case of my art (horsey fiction for the tween set), that is certainly true. While I greatly admire the people who can come up with a completely new world that is nothing like the world we live in, I just don’t seem to be wired that way. I suppose I COULD do it if I really wanted to, but I see so much inspiration in the world around me, I have enough stories eating away at me without having the drive to create a new land.

My first book, Bubba Goes National, was born in an Internet chat room. The chat room was part of an Arabian horse discussion board, and I had decided I would write a book. There aren’t many tween horsey books specifically about Arabians, nor are there many about saddle seat riding, so it seemed like a good niche.

I was the kind of kid whose parents didn’t have a lot of money for fancy horse trainers and trucks and trailers and the whole bit, and even as an adult I’ve never had even close to the kind of money you really need to do the show circuit right. Therefore, I wanted my main character to be a little like me…but with even more drive and more opportunities. She’s a better rider than I am, too! I talked about it with my friends in the chat room that day, and the story of a girl who lives with her widowed father and earns her riding lessons by working for her trainer was born. As the title suggests, she ends up making it all the way to Arabian Youth Nationals.

Once Bubba Goes National was finally published, it was time to write a sequel. I talked to my husband and my friend/mentor Michy (they help me with all of my story ideas) and tossed some ideas around. I don’t want to give too much away about the story, but bits of it came from stories I’d seen on the news or in online horse discussion boards. For book three, which is not quite finished, I was inspired by a local girl with cerebral palsy who not only rides horses but earned a National Top Ten in dressage. Impressive!

All of my characters have a little bit of someone I know in them. While Leslie’s dad isn’t very much like my own father, he does like to tease her, just like mine. I’ve mentioned how there’s a bit of me in Leslie. Helen’s personality and the way she works is inspired by a trainer I used to work for, although of course she’s changed quite a bit and looks completely different.

People love to ask writers where our ideas come from. Inspiration is all around us. The day before I wrote this post, I got two ideas that are completely outside of my normal genre–one is a sci-fi thriller set in the future that came out of a blues song I heard (rectify that one!), and the other is a mystery based on a story I heard from a friend of a friend two years ago…but something my husband said reminded me of the story and a whole twist on the tale just jumped into my brain.

If you want to write but can never seem to come up with a story, start with something small. Look around your house or walk down the street or sit at a sidewalk cafe. Watch the people, study the objects. See what story you can come up with for just one of those people or things. When all else fails, hit up one of those ultra creative types in your life to use as a sounding board.

Where do you find inspiration?

Be sure to give your answer. At the end of the book tour, one commenter from this post, chosen at random, will get a free download of Jennifer’s short story Leslie and the Lion RS

Needful Extravagance

Work: day off, inadvertent.
Report: rinsed off his microwavable hot pads before reading the directions that say air dry 24 hours before using. Ah well, the blacksmith just left. Previous Horse had a rule that he got the day off after shoeing. Rodney isn’t shod and wasn’t going to work, but the spirit of the law lives on.

Ramblings: Wore the wrong pairs of shoes to the barn and had them pulled off by the mud, one after the other. I had an armload of hay that I didn’t want to drop in said mud, and my socks were already goners. So I squished up the hill in my socks, delivered the hay, came back, yanked the boots out of the mud, retired to a dry patch, and rearranged my footwear.

It got me thinking about having the right tools for the job. I was wearing unlaced work boots instead of my wonderful Wellies. Okay, they shouldn’t have been unlaced, but the point remains: they are ankle- rather than knee-height, leather rather than rubber, and possess convenient holes around the laces where a 1/2 inch more mud would have oozed in. I am as fond of my Red Wing boots as I am of the Hunter Wellies but as work boots rather than barn boots. I bought them when I was working on my feet all day, walking on concrete aisles. Not a job for sneakers or hiking boots. At the prompting of the store clerk (and may I say how rare and awesome it is to encounter knowledgeable clerks), I bought the full boot for ankle support rather than the shoe version. I thought they would be too hot in a southern summer. They are hot. Also comfortable, sturdy, and supportive. My knees stopped hurting.

In both cases, the boots are expensive. Many times more than similar-shaped versions at a category-killer store. But they last. And while they last, I can get on with my job or my barn work without worrying about my feet. If false economy ends up costing you money, then needful extravagance ends up saving you money.

A modern urban philosopher made the same point:
“Take boots, for example. He earned thirty-eight dollars a month plus allowances. A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. Those were the kind of boots Vimes always bought, and wore until the soles were so thin that he could tell where he was in Ankh-Morpork on a foggy night by the feel of the cobbles.

“But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that’d still be keeping his feet dry in ten years’ time, while the poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.”

Captain Samuel Vimes in Men at Arms by Terry Pratchett [Victor Gollancz 1993], quoted from Good Reads.

Nor am I the only blogger to quote Sir Terry on the subject of economy: Finance Dad, Things that you shouldn’t buy cheap. My previous Pratchetting: The Weather Outside Is Frightful (for us)

What was your most recent needful extravagance?

Putting Myself Out There … On Horseback.

Work: EVE heat & groom.
Report: second day of our new two-person stretch, see Saturday. Felt movement in the target area while his head was down. Less when he raised it.

Ramblings for the Day: My generous Guest Poster from Wednesday, Writing from the Right Side of the Stall, wrote about the similarities between online dating, online job hunting, and her varying luck with both, here.

The first group of sites is about creating relationships. The second group of sites is about finding someone to pay you money. There is a third online area that combines relationships and monetary exchange. I refer, of course, to horse shopping.

In shopping for Rodney, I looked, in person, at 50 horses. I rode 24 of those. [Many of the other 26 fell into the you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me category, but that is material for another post.] I kept no count of the tens? hundreds? we heard about by email, saw pictures of, or watched on video.

As with online dates or online job searching, many options could be ruled out immediately as being the wrong age, of incompatible skills/interests, or located in Canada. Others may sound good until you get hold of the visuals. One horse was an adorable draft-cross who made the earth tremble when he cantered. Not enough engine to cart my hyperventilating self around a preliminary cross-country. Another was athletic enough to already be going prelim, and hauling like a freight train on the arms of the professional rider aboard. To much engine, thank you very much. You can’t buy a horse online, but you can rule one out.

Online horse shopping had the side effect of getting me on Facebook. Rodney’s seller had videos of him on a jumper course. Although the video itself was on YouTube, the best way to get at the correct link was through a comment on her wall. So on I went. One of the first posts on my wall was a friend expressing amazement that I had staggered thus far into the 21st Century. What else but a horse would have caused me to do so?

Like job hunts, and – in my day – dating, horse shopping turns out to be all about contacts. The good ones go by word of mouth. We found that the horses who get as far as classified ads or sales barns are ones who did not get snapped up as soon as they stuck their snoot out the door. Usually there is a reason that the horse did not sell, either from basic failings, price delusion, or, in a few outstanding cases, both. [Really? Seriously? You want how much? For that?]

I love having the horses at home. As I’ve said before, I would make a terrible boarder. But it does cut into the horse networking opportunities.

Any luck with online horse shopping? Or dating? Or job search?

Previous horse shopping post: Truck Shopping

Countdown

Work: Day off

Ramblings: I am spending the day at a bookmaking workshop. A liberal arts education and a fervid imagination have allowed me to combine book arts and LEGO [I made a book out of bricks] as well as LEGO and horses [see BrickFair posts in January]. Even I can’t figure a way to combine book arts & horses. Books & horses, easy. Bookmaking & horses, no. Instead, I offer three countdowns to the London Olympics: one, two, & the official site.

The first site has countdowns for the next two summer & winter games. [They don’t say where the 2012 Games will be for legal reasons. One has to wonder.] The second site does not agree with the other two. Dunno if the math is wrong or if they are aiming at different points. The start of Opening Ceremonies is 27 July 2012. Since I am using the training wheels .com version of WordPress, I can’t add the counter to my site.

How will you follow the Olympics: TV, blogs, Twitter, streaming?

Changes for the Better?

Work: PM heat/EVE groom.
Report: During a two-lap mare walk, Rodney spent the entire time outside. Mostly, he ate hay. As we hove into sight at the end of the second lap, he drifted on our direction and grazed. Neither hiding nor herd-bound would be the best result.

Ramblings for the Day: In addition to above, we had two more new items in the last 24 hours: one his, one ours. Last night, when Greg went out to check during a break in the rain, Rodney was soaking wet. Usually he hides inside & stays dry while the mare patrols & gets wet. Dunno what it means, but I figure closer to standard horse behavior is better.

After a nice run of progress, I had stalled on his back scar. Totally unkinking the underlying scar will take years, if it is even possible. My first step has been to break up the adhesion between his back and the underlying muscle. I’ve gotten the area down to approximately the size of a quarter. You know how a yarn snarl has outlying loops and hunks of yarn to untangle before you get to the center snarl that has been pulled into a tight, nasty lump of wool? I think we are at the center snarl of his scar. Today, Greg had the idea of standing at Rodney’s head, inviting him to lower his head and thereby stretch his back, while I gouged away until my arms tired. Wearing me out doesn’t take long. My upper body is weak and Rodney’s back withstands a heavy amount of poking. You’d think he’d object, but no. Often, he leans into a massage. I think the new stretch/massage took a notch out of the quarter.

Previous Horse preferred featherweight accupressure & energy balancing. Rodney likes piledrivers & thunderpaws. Which way does your horse like a massage?

Blow, Wind, and Crack Your Cheeks!

Work: great hopes for today, nothing realized so far.
Report: getting this out early in case the weather poodles are right about the oncoming storm. [Of course that was deliberate. I would have thought the LEGO posts would have given away the geek thing.]

Ramblings: The plan is to move Rodney’s exercises out of the ring and closer to the barn, where he feels more comfortable. The theory goes that if something you are doing is making your horse tense, take a step back, correct? For example, if cantering is causing a meltdown, drop down to trot. If the trot; then walk; etc. So, we will do the exercises to build his sense of accomplishment. Once they are old hat, move them into the big, scary ring. I would have thought excessively simple exercises in the ring was a small enough step to work with. However, I am not privy to the noises the chattering monkeys make inside his head. We just get to enjoy the results.

What happens when you run out of backing up?

Spring Fever Starting?

Work: PM heat therapy/EVE groom.
Report: today was Rodney’s day to gallop. He came zipping up when it was time for heating pads. I tried not to get all My Friend Flicka about it, but how can you not love your horse running toward you? Then, when Mathilda and I where halfway through the first lap of our walk, he came at a mad rush FROM the barn TOWARD the far end of the pasture to join us. You should see the skid marks in the mud. He stayed with us for the rest of the lap. When we passed the barn, he went back in to wait. Change? Certainly. Different? Definitely. Progress? Possibly. Probably. Hopefully.

Ramblings: I know that a herd-bound pair can be a total pain, but I am counting that as an improvement over hiding in the barn in what I have decided to call insecurity.

Mathilda is not pleased. The high-spirits of the first canter necessitated a flying kick at her on the way by. On her walk, bad enough she has to tolerate me, then the dog, now him. Her whole neighborhood is going to double-hockey sticks.

How does your horse celebrate spring?