ON WRITING, RIDING, AND JENNIFER BEALS

I’ll never forget my first published article, an essay for the now out of circulation Victoria Magazine. It was called Of Horses and Dreams and I received a check for a whopping $100 bucks. It might as well have been a million bucks for the way it made me feel. The piece represented so much—the combination of two passions, the resurrection of a once dead dream of being a *real* writer, and, less romantic, hours of rewriting and numerous rejection letters. Almost ten years later, I’m an editor working with writers and it feels surreal. Along a journey of numerous publications in regional and national magazines, newspapers, and books, there have been many setbacks and a lot of disappointment. I’ve learned some things along the way about the publishing world and am indebted to those--including a few editors--who a became valuable mentors and helped me build writing “muscle.” I’ve only been editor of the Northwest Horse Source for a couple of months, but I’m enjoying being on the “other side” because I know how it feels to want to write so badly and put yourself on the line. Repeatedly. I hope to be an encouragement to aspiring writers in this new venture.

A not-so-fun part of this gig is working with entitled wannabes. Recently I received a note from someone who felt unfairly treated because we did not jump at the chance to use their material. It is for this person--and aspiring wordsmiths everywhere--that I dedicate this post with the sincere hope that genuine writers (and you don't have to be published to be one) will never give up. What do writing, riding, and Jennifer Beals have in common? More than you think.

Know that writing isn’t for wimps, whiners, or the thin-skinned. “Freelance writers” are a dime a dozen and the publishing world owes you nothing. Writing is like any other creative discipline, it takes a lot of practice and a teachable spirit to become good. Not unlike working with horses, actually. Putting a horse in your pasture doesn’t make you a horseman any more than the knowledge of how to write a sentence makes you a writer. Working on your high school paper or producing a nice essay in college doesn’t mean an editor should drop everything to read your work. It takes years of dedication and a good dose of humility to become a true artist—of anything.

One of my favorite movies in the 1980’s was Flashdance. I must have been about 13 when the film came out and watched it several times, each time becoming more and more convinced I should become a dancer. After all, I’d squared danced in elementary school. And if Jennifer Beals could do it, why not me? So enamored was I of the story that I took some community college dance classes around age 16. I quickly learned a couple things: I am a white girl of no rhythm and little coordination (except on horseback) and…it was darn hard! I think I made it through half the class before dropping out. I had leggings and a sweatshirt top that hung off my shoulder, but a dancer I was not. More than that, I simply didn’t have the desire it would take to learn the things that looked so easy in the movie.

I felt strangely happy to learn that many of the shots of Jennifer Beals dancing were actually a double. A real dancer. She didn’t get a lot of fame, but she was the real deal and possessed a dancer’s body honed by hours on the floor and years of sacrifice. I could square dance (badly), but that was a world away from the abilities of the girl in the movie (and that includes Miss Jennifer!).

Many things in life that take serious commitment can look easy, such as riding a horse. To become a proficient horseman you must begin with the fundamental ingredients of desire, passion, persistence, and the willingness to learn. Mix in a little raw talent and a good attitude and, one day, you may discover you have grown into an equestrian artist who makes it look easy. Writing is the same way. If your first attempt(s) at getting published is rejected accept it graciously and practice being professional. You’ll need those skills if you want to be taken seriously in the future. In the publishing world hate mail and an attitude of entitlement never greased the hinges on the doors of opportunity.

That’s all for now. I’m off to buy a new pair of leggings…

THOUGHTS ON MEMOIRS (OR HOW HAVING HORSES KEEPS YOU HONEST)

I've noticed New York Times Bestsellers fall into one of two categories: Literary art or fodder shoveled toward the enormous appetite for whatever is the current fad. Often the latter is comprised of knock-offs of a bestseller whose theme/topic continues, ad naseum. An example of deserved NY Times best selling status is Khalid Hosseini's, The Kite Runner. This fictional tale accomplished what a great book is meant to do--it transforms the reader. I've rarely been so devastated, so enlightened, by a work of fiction. Hosseini's passion resulted in a tale that transported me into a culture I'd sadly (and smugly) disregarded entirely. It changed my perception permanently.

On the other end of the spectrum is the overwhelming hit, Twilight, the YA debut by author Stephanie Meyer. I will resist the urge to be snarky and dismantle the hysteria surrounding this title. Other (better) connoisseurs of good writing have already done this. Meyer had an intriguing premise, no doubt, but she broke some kind of record for usage of cliched adverbs and adjectives. I put this Harlequin romance for teens down about 3/4 of the way through.

On my recent vacation in Maui, I had the opportunity to read several books or parts of books (Reading in paradise--what could be better?) and discovered something about pairing horses and writing. Horse keeping lends itself to authenticity, an essential trait in good writing. Horse people tend to be down-to-earth sorts. Perhaps this is because we wrestle with the concept of "down-to-the-earth" more than most and this keeps us humble and honest. Helps us avoid taking ourselves too seriously. Allow me to compare two recently read memoirs--a favorite genre: Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and Chosen Forever, by Susan Richards.

When it comes to reading I am an omnivore and enjoy buffet style nourishment. I'm not stuck on fiction, non-fiction, or any particular author. I love to be surprised by something new, different, and delicious. Trying a strange "dish" is good; you can't always tell by description or appearance what you'll like. This is how I became a fan of hummus and olive tapenade. Conversely, some things that look/sound yummy can give you a stomachache. This was the case for me with the wildly successful, Eat, Pray, Love. Firstly, let me say Elizabeth Gilbert is a fine writer. She has a good handle on clever technique and turn-a-phrase and uses a personal style of writing I like. There was a reason she was paid, in advance, for a book based on her experiences "finding herself" in Italy, India, and Indonesia. This one fact is at the root of the problem, for me. Payment in advance for a work of fiction is one thing, payment in advance for something meant to be inspirational, "spiritual," is quite another. Let's just say I could come up with something spiritual, too, if I was paid in advance to find it while traveling the world. Not a bad gig for a freelancer. Also flawed for me is Gilbert's premise. Feeling vaguely, yet deeply, dissatisfied with her marriage, the possibility of having children, and a dull suburban life she has a messy affair and, soon after, a messy divorce. I had a hard time dredging up empathy for this woman; a problem in memoir. Good memoir has, at its core, authenticity. While Gilbert's voice was engaging and often entertaining she lacked a certain honesty. Her new agey obsession with self wore thin and by the time she was kissing trees and divulging details about her sex life (with herself and a new lover who-obviously-helped her along her newly discovered spiritual path) I was ready for the Peptobismal. So why did Eat, Pray, Love hit the NY Times bestseller list? It feeds the wildly popular notion that anything goes in the elusive search for self-You're worth it Baby. Spiritually the book is also comfortably vague. Perfect. Look for the movie coming out with Julia Roberts. I'll probably watch it, along with a bag of cotton candy and the Pepto.

In contrast Susan Richards, Chosen Forever, is rich and satisfying. This sequel to her NY Times bestseller, Chosen By A Horse, continues a theme of redemption that began in Richards life with the unassuming love of a discarded Standardbred mare named Lay Me Down. Chosen By A Horse brought tears to my eyes. It reminded me that the experiences and individuals that touch us and change us the most are not the ones orchestrated and paid for in advance. They come as a surprise; involve our deepest emotions; even give us a broken heart. They don't always make sense at first sight. Do yourself a favor and read Chosen By A Horse. The sequel, Chosen Forever, is the story that unfolds in the authors life after the surprise success of her literary labor of love. I was ready to be disappointed but enjoyed it nearly as much as the first book.

Here's to finding oneself--on the back of a horse.