Friday, December 11, 2009

Alison Hart Guest Blog


I’ll admit it: I have been horse crazy since my first Steiff pony and Billy and Blaze picture book by C.W. Anderson. Decades later, I still ride, continue to read horse books (try Chosen by a Horse a memoir by Susan Richardson) and now I have added writing about horses to my passions.

Under my real name, Alice Leonhardt, and my pen name, Alison Hart, I have written over fifty books about horses. Many are contemporary, including books in the Nancy Drew and Thoroughbred series, my own Riding Academy series, and Shadow Horse, an Edgar nominated mystery, and its sequel Whirlwind (Random House Mary 2010). Most recently I have combined horses with history to create suspense-filled historical fiction. The two meld perfectly because human and horses have been intertwined as early as 3500 B.C. when horses were raised for milk and meat in Kazakhstan. (see the fascinating March 2009 article in National Geographic: http://new.nationalgeographic.com/news/2009/03/090305-first-horse-domestication.html)

Since then, horses have been used (and exploited) by humans in all parts of the world. In America, horses became extinct about 10,000 years ago and were then reintroduced by 16th century Spanish Explorers. That gives me centuries of history to write about. My current books focus on the 1800’s when horses were necessary for transportation, farming, commerce—and war.

During the Civil War, both the Confederate and Union armies depended heavily upon horses. The animals were needed to pull wagons, cannons, and ambulances to and from battlegrounds. The horses also carried cavalry soldiers and officers into battle.

About 1.5 million horses and mules died during the Civil War.

From “The History behind Gabriel’s Journey” by Alison Hart.

Writing historical fiction means I have to know the facts. The Racing to Freedom trilogy (Gabriel’s Horses, Gabriel’s Triumph and Gabriel’s Journey) took over two years to research. I have notebooks and file folders of notes and photos from visits to Lexington and Camp Nelson, Kentucky, and Saratoga, New York; magazine articles, old maps, and scrawled notes from over two hundred books and online sources. My job as a writer is to use the facts to write a compelling story for young readers. Take for example, a scene from Gabriel’s Journey-- which is about an African American cavalry unit that fought at the Battle of Saltville, Virginia--that I created around the statistics on the number of dead horses:

I lead Sassy and Hero up onto the road. In front of us, a bulky mound lies in the center of the lane. The horse that was shot is dead. Blood oozes from its neck and shoulder. Already someone has stripped it of bridle, saddle, and gear. Soldiers lead their mounts around it or step over it. No one but me pays it any mind.

I remember Jackson’s words when we first visited Camp Nelson and saw the broken-down remounts: Horses don’t choose to fight, and they sure don’t get no enlistment fee.

And no glory neither, I see now. The body will be left for vultures and varmints.

My eyes blur. I lead Sassy and Hero around the fallen horse and say a silent prayer.

Whether it’s a pony on the prairie during the Blizzard of 1888 (Anna’s Blizzard) or a Morgan horse helping a runaway slave in 1850 (Bell’s Star), each novel I write must be filled with vivid scenes that not only convey our history, but bring it to life for readers.


Don't forget to leave a comment today if you'd like a copy of Shadow Horse! Tell me what you'd be willing to do, or what you'd like to see someone else do, to win!


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Thursday, December 10, 2009

When Did I Move to Alaska?

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There it is, my favorite tool

I tried. Really I did. I wanted to be out there working Tika while the sun was almost warming the air. But by the time I finished dragging the blasted hose out of the house...yes, to stay thawed, it's coiled into a trash can and they both live indoors...and watering, the sun had once again slipped below the tippy tops of the trees and all I was left with was mottled light and chilled air. When did I move to Alaska, anyway?

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There's that shadow of mine, standing around, doing nothing.
As usual.

My fingers are too cold to do much work in weather like this. I recall two very short sessions a day with Steve Holt! last year during the month of December, and I'm not even working that much with Wadatika. But then again, she's a bit ahead of where he was, simply because she's been hanging around for three months and soaking it all in.

Yesterday I continued with the touching and desensitizing. I got my hand down to her pastern on the left side, and she picked up her foot...and then promptly put it down. But it was done nicely, you know? Not fearfully, no striking, no jumping out of the way. She also let me get down below her elbow on the right side, as well as reach under her belly from the right. Big steps for my ticklish girl.

The saddle blanket has her side stepping. With both Sandy and Steve Holt!, I'd had the saddle on by day 8. I'd wanted to do that with Tika, too (my timeline beginning this past weekend, when the trainers picked up their EMM horses), but I think I'll wait until she's quiet when I put the blanket on her. I'll have to go back and look at the boys to see what they were like.

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Showing a bit of Tika-tude with those lips

There's something very different about this mare. Something I can't quite put my finger on. We stood there in the fading light yesterday, my nose burried in her soft winter coat. She stood like a mare protecting a foal. There's a tenderness about her once she lets you inside of her space. She curved her neck slightly around me, not tight like a hug, but a small gesture that said life was good.

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Don't forget to scroll down and leave your comment on the Pick it up and Read post! You could win Shadow Horse by Alison Hart. Great Christmas gift!

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Tika's Progress

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It's been cold. Way, way too cold. But it's a dry cold, so I'm happy! Unfortunately, I don't always get out to work with Tika while the sun is still visible. It doesn't actually show it's face in the morning until 9:40, and by 4 in the afternoon, it's descending behind the treetops. Sunlight, and the small amount of warmth that goes with it, is in short supply. But as long as I can see where I'm placing my feet, and where the horse is, I'm okay.

Tika thought that having a day off over the weekend meant we should take a week or two or six off. She didn't want to be caught, and any time I got close enough to start rubbing on her, the moment the second hand came up she was off like a shot. So out came my trusty training tool, the rope.

Have you ever tried to toss a rope over the back of a moving horse, when that moving horse is snugged up against a round pen panel? Let me tell you, it's easier to catch the panel. And I caught several panels Monday night before the rope finally landed on Tika's back. She stopped immediately, and although the rope slipped down her side, it didn't matter. In her mind, I'd won, so she stopped and let the halter slip over her lovely face. Which was a relief, as when the air gets as cold and dry as it is right now, it's not good for man nor beast to be running about and filling the lungs with frigid air.

Once haltered, Tika allowed me to lead her about and rub on her left side. Still a bit shy about the right, I can get over there for a moment or two before she begins to step away. On Saturday, I actually ponied her a little from Sandy. Not that you can get much done in a round pen that's only 25' across, but she didn't spook when I climbed onto his back, and she got the basics.

Last night she allowed me to run my hand the length of her body, from head to hip and dock of her tail, without moving away. Then I stepped to the right side to see how she'd react. To my utter delight, she allowed me to run my hand down the length of her body, past the hop and up onto her rump near the tail. What's more, on her more comfortable left side, I worked my hand down to her kneee, as well as under her belly where the cinch will eventually go.

Afterwards, I buried my face in her long, soft, fluffy coat, and she curved her neck gently around me in what I can only imagine as a hug. In reality I believe she was politely saying, "Please don't do that," but I choose not to acknowledge her actual feelings and will substitute my own. Someday, Tika will truly enjoy all this loving.

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