MEET AUTHOR SUSAN KETCHEN

Usually it makes me feel better to wear my riding clothes. But today nothing helps, even when I buckle on my riding helmet and hop on my bike. Somehow I know I'm doomed. ~ Susan Ketchen, Made That Way

In this family fiction sequel to Born That Way, Susan Ketchen reunites readers with the intrepid young Sylvia, who is challenged by a genetic disorder, wild about horses, and determined to find solutions to the obstacles presented by her life in general. Sylvia wants to be a real horsewoman and she’s excited about getting her own horse, even if the horse is arriving at a less-than-perfect time. Brooklyn is, well, not quite a regular horse. He has big ears, makes strange sounds, and he’s already bitten the transport driver.

Recently I had the pleasure of reading this book by Canadian author Susan Ketchen. The story has many unique elements that make it not your average "Girl and Pony Story." I thought it would be fun to interview Susan about the genesis of the book and her own experience as a horsewoman and writer.

1. The main character in this series, Sylvia, lives with a genetic condition called Turner Syndrome. Tell us what this is and how it became an element in the story.

Girls born with Turner Syndrome are missing an X chromosome. This can result in a number of symptoms, varying from individual to individual, but most people with the condition are short in height and infertile. Treatment with human growth hormone can help girls attain a more normal height, and estrogen replacement therapy can trigger the development of female sexual characteristics.

I did not set out to write a novel about a character with Turner Syndrome. But as I was writing about Sylvia, I noticed that the other characters always referred to her as a small person, and tended to treat her younger than her years. I did some research about possible medical conditions that might account for her short stature, and discovered Turner Syndrome. The developmental and sexual difficulties presented by the syndrome were interesting to me as a writer as they seemed to open a number of doors for discussion and exploration.

2. You are trained as a counselor and spent time working with teens, have you always wanted to write to this audience?

Oddly enough, I don’t think of myself as a writer for teens. I think more that I write for people. In the Sylvia books, I reflect a lot on what it is like for young people, but many of my readers are adults who are either reminded what it was like when they were young, or see themselves as parents dealing with their teens, sometimes in ways that they want to change.

3. One of the especially brilliant elements from Made That Way is how Sylvia comes to understand her peer group (and their reaction to her "disorder") by observing equine herd dynamics. How else have you seen horses support teens, in particular?

Some girls say that their horse is their best friend. They tell their horse everything. Of course the horse doesn’t disagree or offer advice or criticize. The horse stands there and allows a person to lean on it. Adults can have the same experience: I have known women who pointed to their horse and said, “There have been many tears cried into that mane.”

Horses are large powerful animals. I wonder about how empowering it is for a young person to manage and direct another being of this stature, and how this empowerment might influence other aspects of their life as they tinker with increasing independence.

4. The story is inspiring to those struggling with a label, disability, or handicap. Have you had feedback from this sort of reader?

I have had wonderful feedback from people with Turner Syndrome and their parents. What they appreciate is that I didn’t make it a story about a disability or handicap—Sylvia is more than a Turner Syndrome girl. Still, she is different from other girls, with different questions about life. Plus there is an educational component that will help someone who doesn’t have TS to understand what it might be like for someone with TS.

5. What lessons have you personally learned on horseback?

Oh the lessons never end! And the one I will likely be struggling with right until the end is when to accept “conventional wisdom” and when to trust myself to do things differently when traditional methods feel wrong for me and my horse.

I think one of the most important things I have learned is to keep an eye on the emotional source of some of my reactions. Training should not be influenced by anger or fear or frustration. If any of these emotions are present, it’s better to get off the horse and start again tomorrow. Training should be clear, calm and logical; if it’s not, the lessons are confusing for the horse. I think this carries over into the rest of life too, when we’re dealing with each other. It’s easy to be overwhelmed by our own emotions, or the emotions of others, and not see what the real issues are.

6. What were your favorite books as a youth?

I read non-stop. In my teens I went through a long period of reading a lot of science fiction. Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End was one of the first adult books I read. Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank still haunts me. And John Wyndham’s books.

7. It seems you are living a longtime dream to write and ride, with horses in your backyard. Any advice to others nurturing a passion or creative dream?

I think I’ve been very lucky, so I don’t know how much advice I have to offer. People are fortunate if they have a passion, but it can have a narrowing effect on your life. And not all dreams are attainable, no matter how much positive thinking you do. Sometimes you have to let go. I let go of my early dreams for a while, and pursued other goals, and learned things that I never would have learned if I had focused solely on being a writer who rode. As a result, I have more to draw on when I write, and my life has been richer.

8. Tell us a little about your own horses and your interest in training. I understand some of them can play the piano?

Oh boy I could go on for pages about my horses and my interest in training.

I have two horses out in my field right now. Lollipop is an Arab/Welsh/Human cross. She is the official “companion pony” because she’s not sound. But any time a new horse arrives on the property, she is invaluable to me in helping the new one settle in because she’s very engaged with me. She’s the smartest horse I’ve ever known. I use a variation of clicker training with her, so she knows flash cards and the names of her body parts, and yes, she will play a child’s piano with her nose…if we use the word “play” loosely. She hits the keys. I wouldn’t call it “music”.

This Spring I was looking for a new riding horse, and met Huck. He’s an Arabian gelding. I wasn’t looking for an Arabian gelding, and certainly not a chestnut. So I think he picked me. He comes from a show background, which is not what we do here, and he is very smart, so is learning about his new lifestyle. I ride with a dressage saddle, and am interested in improving my riding and improving the horse’s way of going, but I’m not so interested in competing. I’d like to explore horse intelligence some more with Huck, and see how our relationship develops.

I’m interested in animal training generally, and in how to train positively, avoiding punishment if at all possible. I want the horse to feel motivated, not coerced. Both my horses have a strong desire to please. I don’t want to do anything to diminish that, which means I have to question some traditional methods. On the other hand, horses are big powerful animals and they can be dangerous without meaning to, so some limits have to be put on their behavior.

Thanks Susan! What an interesting person you are.

Made That Way is available for $12.95 from Amazon or local booksellers.

Susan Ketchen was born in Nanaimo, B.C. and had a successful Family counseling practice for many years. She now resides on a small Vancouver Island hobby farm with her husband, two horses, two cats and a flock of chickens. Grows That Way, the third book in this series will be published in fall 2011. Visit Susan at: www.susanketchen.ca

INSIGHT FROM BUCK

Is it a sign of age to love documentaries? I'm a serious fan of them and often prefer the "extras" found on DVDs over the movie itself. I have an endless curiosity when it comes to peoples lives: What makes them tick? How did they come to be where they are in life, for good or for bad? A fave author is Jon Krakauer; he's a man after my own heart when it comes to this sort of curiosity. A tragic expedition on Mt. Everest? I'm into sussing out how and why it went wrong. A young man compelled to wander into the wilds of Alaska and subsist on wild game and berries? I'm diggin' that story.

I was in heaven when the documentary Buck was released. A film about a great cowboy and horse trainer (with a tragic personal story)? What could be better? Bring on the popcorn. Only something that good could keep me out of my saddle on a sunny July day and inside a dark theatre. I was not disappointed.

There was much to love about this film. It chronicles the life of an extraordinary child performer and gifted horseman who inspired a best selling novel and film of the same name. Buck has spent his life "helping horses with people problems." While it was all good, there was an especially beautiful nugget of wisdom that I mentally polished long after the show was over; a truth about horses, people, and why some are successful while others are not.

Buck could have very easily become a statistic. Born to a violent alcoholic who beat him and his brother mercilessly, Buck was finally put into foster care when his mother died and a teacher discovered the abuse. He was shy to the point of an inability to connect or speak at all and trembled in fear the first time he met his foster father, a large, masculine man who possessed a physical strength Buck had learned to fear. Instead of feeling sorry for the young boy, ignoring him, or allowing him a life of ease and pity, the foster father immediately threw him a pair of brand new calf-skin gloves and invited him to come build fence. They spent that first day together working; Buck so proud of his new gloves he couldn't bear to wear them and get them dirty. Being respected with the responsibility of a job and treated fairly without spoiling, helped a boy in danger of falling through the cracks become a success.

About halfway through the film a similarly tragic story is introduced: a young stallion whose mother died while giving birth. The foal is bottle fed and allowed to live with his owner in her home. Coddled, loved, and felt sorry for (he was oxygen deprived at birth and there was the probability of brain damage), the foal is never taught respect or given a job. When he arrives at Buck's clinic, in all his masculine glory, the stallion is so dangerous even Buck will not handle him and instead ropes a hind foot from horseback. Though the stallion is able to be worked, to a degree, he eventually attacks his handler during the clinic and seriously injures him. Buck wisely says to the owner, "This horse tells me an awful lot about you." He continues on to say that the failure in the life of the stallion was not his mother dying, or his oxygen deprivation. The horse didn't have to be a victim and could have grown up to be of use. Instead, he was failed by the humans in his life. Sobering.

I know alot of people, and horses, that could use a pair of calf-skin gloves.

INSIDE OUT

I once watched a documentary on Thoroughbred breeding. As in other breeds, very few stallions actually make a difference. Just because an individual horse is superior is no guarantee he will be able to pass on his type. Secretariat is a notable example of this. Though an outstanding athlete the horse was weak in the breeding shed and failed to duplicate his best attributes, unlike other sires such as Bold Ruler and Northern Dancer. A veterinarian on the show said only two out of every hundred stallions is truly prepotent, consistently able to pass on their type. This is rather sobering. It means many stallions should be gelded and the genetic typing left to the animals that can actually make a difference in any particular breed.

When I decided to breed Eli last year I had this documentary in mind. He has some wonderful qualities, but I knew he wouldn't necessarily pass them on. I hoped to see his long sloping shoulder and outstanding feet and legs. Besides the physical traits, I also wanted to see something more subtle reproduced in the foals. His eye. I know that sounds weird but the eye truly is the window to the soul and mystical as it sounds I trust the look in a horse's eye. It conveys something very important about the mind--will the horse be teachable, kind, and honest? Not all horses are and, like people, potential lies within. The most beautiful horse on the outside is useless without a sound and trainable mind. What's inside will reveal itself in performance.

Any breeder knows the mare is more important than the stallion--yay for Girl Power! Breeding a mediocre, crazy mare to the nicest stud you can find will produce, roughly, 60% crazy in your foal. Eli's mares were all quite different so it was impossible to say what traits he might pass on. After a year of waiting and hoping for the best I went to see his first colts with modest expectations. It took only a few minutes of time with each one to discover what I'd hoped to find--a good dose of daddy inside(and out!).

Father's Day passed a couple of weeks ago but the power and influence of a good daddy is still on my mind. Aren't the boys cute? Stay tuned for more photos.

TWO EARS

"Your mind operates like computer screen pop-ups."So said my husband one evening before bed.

Nice.

I grimaced and said something sassy. Later I decided he was pretty spot-on. The last two months I've had a hard time concentrating on anything, for any length of time. Attention span of a gnat and all that. A boatload of responsibilities, commitments, plans and events had my mind flashing from thought to thought like those annoying computer ads that pop-up unbidden on the screen. Or, almost as bad, those flashes of top news stories and "trending now" attention-getters on the internet. The only thing trending last month was my nervous breakdown. To illustrate how random my mind became I only have to think of a night two weeks ago. I woke up at 3 a.m. with this thought: How will I cut and serve the carne asada??? I swear I spent a half hour staring into the dark and worrying about my son's upcoming graduation party and the stupid carne asada on the menu. But that has been my life: one graduating son, visiting East coast relatives, a writing workshop, wrapping up a client's book project, a new editing job, church, family, and home responsibilities. I was exhausted, but my brain was on pop-up hyper-drive.

That's why I had to go riding. Yep, right in the middle of all of it I pulled my horse out of the pasture, prayed he wouldn't be too jacked up after sitting in the field all ornamental-like, and threw the saddle on his back. I hit the trail and left a house in disorder and a party menu that needed planning. It didn't take too long for me to take a deep breath, gaze at the wonder of the Twin Sisters granite spires, and get a desperately needed reality-check. Boy, do I need to ride.

Horseback riding, for me, is the ultimate mind/body exercise. The mind slows down and begins listening--to the body, to the environment, to the quiet whispers of the spirit. I love a line in the movie The Last Samurai. When Tom Cruise is unable to wield his sword, unable to concentrate and be effective, one of the Japanese samurais remarks, Too many mind. I know all about that.

Information overload, combined with an overloaded schedule, creates a condition of "too many mind." Horse time, for me, is a time to remember to listen and stop reacting to the craziness around me--"This too shall pass" and "It ain't nothing but a thing." The perfect carne asada does not a meaningful life make.

Sometimes you get ahead faster by going slower. I seem to always find perspective by focusing my attention between two furry ears and a dirt trail beneath me, where the loudest noise is the clicking of hooves over stones, the flick of a tail, and a whiskery snort.

Happy trails, may you lose your (too many) mind on the back of a horse.

PS. The carne asada turned out great.