Go to your favorite beach. Hold a moon-snail shell to your ear.  Hear the agates calling you in soft waves.  Sift thumbnail sized rocks between your fingers, pushing past the dull layer to the dark damp colored layer below.  Look past the seaweed rocks, sunset rocks, deep-water-black rocks, white shell rocks, shooting star rocks.  Look past all the colors of the northern lights, night sky, and gray waves.  Find the gem layer: turquoise rocks, ruby rocks, jade rocks, sandstone shining with diamonds.  Set aside the frosted blue beach glass, and smooth-edged porcelain, all tamed and returned by the ocean.  Dead shore crabs guard the real agates, pinchers at the ready.  

Rest.  Feel the waves of agates calling you.  Lift each possibility to the sun to check for clarity.  Throw the opaque almost-agates back to let them ripen longer in the sea.  Look up at the logs, the sand-rubbed smoothness, the ants.  Begin to gather shells with holes in them instead; look for some beach string to make a mermaid’s necklace.  Watch for sun glints on agates, on waves.  Fill your pockets with treasures, driftwood bits, and more colored rocks.  Who cares about the agates today.  Tomorrow, find a sunny beach.  Sit down by the driftwood.  Look for agates. 

I remember long ago being out for a drive with my dad through the rural roads of Whatcom County.  Suddenly we were in the small town of Sumas. 

“How did we get here?” I asked, thinking we had been nowhere near this town.

“We snuck up behind it, so it wouldn’t see us coming,” Dad answered. 

The idea of sneaking up on a town and surprising it was somehow hilarious to me.   Like the town cares!  But this idea of sneaking up behind places became part of our family lore.  Why drive in on the main drag when you can sneak around from behind the hill?  Hmmm, as I think about, it, that may explain my adult aptitude in getting temporarily lost.  Regularly.      

Today I am sneaking up on writing about my hometown of Blaine, Washington.  I was in a slump.  You know how sometimes we think we are supposed to be doing a certain thing, at a certain time, and then, somehow, we don’t?  Or can’t?  After spending so much time writing humor, poetry, essays, I got it into my head to try to write a fiction novel.  Other people write novels, how hard can it be?  They’re just a long format, right?  I had planned to get started this winter.  I knew where to set the novel, in my hometown of Blaine.  I knew the scenes in the novel would include eagles, tide flats, harbors, and maybe an old dairy farm or three.

Yet there the idea sat, like a dead seal in the mud.  I mulled it over and pushed it around in my brain like a kid with a piece of driftwood poking at a carcass.  I thought it over in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep.  No plots announced themselves.  No characters introduced themselves.  The novel idea was beginning to rot.  Seagulls were loudly circling.  Still, my brain continued visiting Blaine, smelling the tide flats, looking across the harbor.  I have finally determined I don’t have a novel in me.

Once I abandoned that idea like a leaking boat, I started writing out a story my friend had told me about living in Blaine.   I was able to write a short, fictionalized scene.  Not a full story, and definitely not a good draft, but at least the start of something.  Or maybe the end of something if it doesn’t get better. Yet, getting started made me want to write more about Blaine.  I still don’t feel a large work of fiction headed my way, but at least I’m getting some writing practice in.  We’ll see what happens when I drive around Birch Point and sneak up on the scenes and stories of Blaine from the other side of the bay.    

IT’S GETTING CLOSER!  Woops, was, I writing too loud?

I haven’t been blogging about my book-in-the-works, because I didn’t actually know what the publication schedule might be.  But it’s getting closer!  A local publisher, Gray Dog Press, is laying it out for me, and will do a small print run of the book.  Then I will figure out how to get it on Amazon (Kindle Direct Publishing) and IngramSpark (another book distributor).  It shouldn’t take too much longer, several weeks or a couple months, rather than my previous vague schedule which had been “someday”, or “years” or “no idea”.  And then my work begins: getting the book “out there”.

Riding Lessons, Things I Learned While Horsing Around, is a mostly humorous memoir about living with horses and learning from horses. As you will see, I had a lot to learn, made a lot of mistakes, and laughed a lot.  In addition to the humor essays there are a few serious pieces, some poetry, and some blog-like pieces.  Early readers have enjoyed the book, even the non-horsey readers.

Self-publishing is all new to me, so it’s taking some time.  I am learning so much!  My writing and non-writing friends are helping so much!  You know who you are—beta readers, a hired editor, photographer friends, instructor friends, trail riding friends, writing group friends, old friends, new friends, family…  Thank you.  We’re almost there! 

If you want an update when it’s done, follow my blog, or send me an email or message.  I’ll be in touch as the process continues.   

Woohoo! Did I mention I’m excited?

I would like to sell you this book of poems.  It’s a good book of poems; I’m a good writer and I work hard at my trade.  You won’t be disappointed if you like poetry.  It’s possible that even a non-lover of poetry will like my book, because I’m that good.  But wait, if you like my book you will want to read all my poems in the future—here, let me sell you a poetry credit card.  You need this credit card because if you sign up, you will get a discount on every future book of mine.  Of course, I’m a writer, not a credit bank.  But don’t let that worry you, because some other outside entity is managing it, and you will sign your life away to get my future poems half off.  Just know your credit will always be golden with me.  I may or may not write a poem for your future destination, but if I do, you will have that card to take full advantage.  I may or may not write a poem to fit your eventual travel dates, but if I do, you will have time to enjoy it.  Sign up now, and you will get a companion poem and a place to hide your baggage.  Or my baggage.  For a short time, I offer a bonus of three poems on topics you aren’t interested in.  I’m sure you’ll get some mileage out of those.  Don’t worry though, someone is making money, and it’s not the poet.  Just giving credit where credit is due.  

(Photo credit Chris Frederick)