Author: Miriam Drori

Author, editor, attempter of this thing called life. Social anxiety warrior. Re-Connections, a collection of short stories, published with Ocelot Press, 15/10/2025.

Categories
Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Jenny Mazowski

Letters from ElsewhereMy visitor today must be rather clever. Despite being a character in a novel, she knows about two other novels about to be released. I suspect a certain Olga Swan had a hand in this!

Here’s Jenny’s letter, dated 1986.

Monday

To:  Naomi Klein

From: Jenny Mazowski

Dear Naomi,

OlgaSwan - 3rdDegreeMurderHaven’t heard from you in ages. So much to tell you.  You know I got that secretary job at my local university?  Well, it’s been mind blowing. I work for this terrible professor. His name’s Axel Sloan and I’d like to take an axe to him myself. He’s really anti-semitic. You’ll never believe this but last week he actually asked me whether circumcised men were better in bed?  Honestly!  I didn’t know where to put myself.  And then there’s a PhD student from Bangladesh in our department who alleges she was actually raped by him right in his office here!  I know.  She’s such a lovely girl, too. We get on really well together. I remember last Xmas when we giggled together over whether we should send each other a Xmas card or not, like the rest of the department. Well, we both agreed. Enough’s enough. We’re gonna make a formal complaint to the V-C against Prof. Sloan. Trouble is I don’t like the V-C either. There’s something about the way he looks at the male students that’s a bit odd. Anyway I’ll let you know what happens.

OlgaSwan - LamplightSo, what about you? Has your cousin started writing that story about the Klein family history yet? I guess it’ll take a long time to write. Wasn’t there someone called David Klein in your family who got involved in Nazi Germany during the war? And, didn’t he even parachute in to Vichy France too? Wow!  Hope the story doesn’t take too long to finish as I’d really love to find out what happened. Sounds amazing. Let’s hope your cousin finds one of those lovely boutique publishing houses that are springing up everywhere now. I’m sure they’d jump at the chance to publish it. What was the title again? Lamplight! Yes, that’s it. Gives a real war-time feel to it. Maybe the Vichy bit should be a second novel. A good title for that one would be Vichyssoise – you know, like the chilled, green soup they have in France. Can’t wait to read them.

OlgaSwan - Vichyssoise

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Must dash. Prof. Sloan is back any minute from lunch and I haven’t finished his grant application yet. If not, there’ll be 3rd Degree Murder for sure!

Love,

Jenny x

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3rd Degree Murder, a university intrigue by Olga Swan, is available here.

Lamplight – Book 1 in the David Klein war reporter series – is due to be released in February 2016.

Vichyssoise – Book 2 in the David Klein series – is due to be released in May 2016.

Read Olga Swan’s weekly, Sunday blog about life as an expat in France. 

Categories
Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Marie Hunter

Letters from ElsewhereSue BarnardMy guest today is Marie, wife of John Hunter, who has been directing an amateur dramatic society’s production of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Marie, who comes from The Unkindest Cut of All  by Sue Barnard, has been kind enough to share an entry from her diary.

Monday 10th March

Well, that went pretty well for a first night, considering all the problems we’ve had.  It didn’t help that Brian arrived five minutes late, which sent John into a blind panic before we’d even started.  But then, that’s Brian for you.  Always thinks that normal rules don’t apply to him.  To be quite honest I’ve no idea how anyone ever puts up with him.  The play’s the thing, I suppose.

After all this time, I find it hard to believe that we’ve actually got to this stage.  John has been eating, breathing and sleeping that wretched play for the past two months.  Well, longer than that, I suppose, if I include all the time he spent reading and studying it before they started rehearsing.

Heaven alone knows why he wanted to do Julius Caesar.  I know he’s always loved Shakespeare, but it definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice of play.  And in any case, why pick a tragedy, when there are so many good comedies to choose from? But then, as Sarah pointed out, at least John didn’t go for Titus Andronicus.  We should be grateful for small mercies.  Maybe it was the timing – Ides of March, and all that. 

I did Julius Caesar at school.  I didn’t remember a great deal about it, apart from one lesson when we were reading one of the scenes in class, and at the point where it says Enter the Ghost of Caesar, the classroom door opened and in walked the headmistress, who must have been pushing sixty and looked like something out of a horror film.  It seemed absolutely hilarious to us at the time. 

Nobody could accuse me of not remembering a great deal about it now!  But it’s always the same.  When John gets his teeth into a task, it takes over his entire life – and mine – for the duration. By the time we get to performance week, I reckon I could be the all-purpose emergency understudy for the whole cast.

Thank goodness for Sarah.  She’s been an absolute trooper, taking over only a couple of weeks ago when Diane fell ill.  Nobody’s quite sure what was the matter with Diane, but her mother rang me this afternoon to say that she’s been rushed into hospital.  Poor girl.  I know she felt really bad about having to drop out. I’m going to go and see her tomorrow.  The cast all signed a card for her after the performance tonight.  I hope that might cheer her up a bit.

One down, five to go.  Maybe when the week is over I might actually get my husband back!  But we’ve still got to get through the rest of the run first.  Here’s hoping nothing else goes wrong between now and Saturday evening…

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The Unkindest Cut of All, by Sue Barnard, is available for download – and from today for the next seven days, it is on special offer at a princely 99p.  For more details, click here.

 

 

Categories
Books Bullying

About Bullying

Girls spreading rumours

It’s been a while since I’ve posted about bullying. Time to bring it up again, methinks.

This post from May, 2014 describes a study that shows the impact of bullying can last a lifetime.

To me, the results of the study are obvious. I would have been surprised if they had been different. But I’ve heard the opposite account:

I was bullied as a child. It made me stronger and better able to stand up for myself.

And I say (under my breath): well done. I’m happy for you. But don’t ever make me think I’m to blame because that wasn’t my experience.

Probably when people have said this, they didn’t intend to apportion blame to others. Probably it was simply the way I viewed it for a long time. Fortunately, I have learned to change that view. The way I coped with the bullying then was what caused it to influence my adult life. But I couldn’t possibly have known then what effects my coping method would cause.

I have read two excellent Crooked Cat novels that feature bullying: Myopia by Jeff Gardiner and Once Removed by KB Walker.

In the first, the victim is unlikely to have lasting effects, as the experience is short-lived and he is a popular child. In the second, I think effects could continue. It depends how her life spans out.

Are there any novels that continue past the childhood experience? I haven’t read any. But one of the novels I’ve been working on of late attempts to do just that. I hope it sees the light of day soon.

By the way, the post mentions three signs that show that something is wrong: children not wanting to go to school, failing grades, crying. While these are common, they’re not universal. None of them applied to me.

Categories
Social anxiety

Dancing – a Metaphor for Life?

India - Odisha - Bison Horn Maria village.

On Tuesday, I was a guest author on the The Story Ape’s blog, where I wrote about Israeli folk dancing.

Ailsa Abraham commented:

I started in late middle age with Breton dancing and although exhausting it was such fun to be moving in rhythm with other people. Metaphor for life, perhaps?

The comment got me thinking about my relationship with dancing.

It began at the age of four with ballet. I had private lessons because the class was on Saturdays and I couldn’t join that for religious reasons. But I was allowed to take part in the annual concert, which was also on a Saturday. We walked to the hall because travel wasn’t allowed, and the teacher took the clothes I had to change into and wasn’t allowed to carry. I enjoyed ballet. I would probably have enjoyed the class more than the private lessons. I’d have enjoyed dancing in rhythm with other girls, but religion prevented me from doing that. I took some of the ballet exams. The best remark I got was that I had a very good sense of rhythm.

I don’t remember how I picked up the twist. Maybe from watching it on the telly. Maybe we did it at summer schools. I remember being good at it. I remember dancing it on the last day of primary school.

There were never many occasions to dance while I was at school. A wedding here, a party there. It was something I knew how to do. I watched what everyone else did and copied them. I always had confidence in my ability to dance. They laughed at me when I spoke, but never when I danced.

MeAndTheTribe
Being different (with a dance group in an Indian village)

At university there were several opportunities to dance. I loved them all. In particular, I liked dancing to the Rolling Stones’ song, Brown Sugar. I didn’t know what it was about; I just loved the music. And I loved jumping around in time with the music and in time with all the other dancers. This was something I could do at least as well as everyone else.

People I worked with were surprised to see me dance at all, let alone better and in a more liberated way than most. They assumed anxiety over talking must extend to every other activity. They were wrong.

I don’t know why it took me so long to discover folk dancing in Israel. For once, this was an activity in which I could be in step with everyone else. In everyday life I was always out of step. The only problem is that there’s more to going dancing than dancing. It’s also a time for talking.

My conclusion? Dancing is not a metaphor for my life. It’s a metaphor for what my life might have been.

If this post seems a bit confused, I think that’s because writing it has confused me. In the words of Fagin in the musical Oliver, I think I’d better think it out again. Can you help? Help me get my feet back on the ground? No, Beatles. I’m happier jumping in the air.

Categories
Books

Resolutions… Resosmutions

Happy New YearSo, it seems to be 2016. 2015 was fine. I have no complaints. But 2014 was more exciting and I hope 2016 will be, too. One exciting thing is planned for the end of February. (More about that in March.)

I’ve been working on a novel I’m writing in collaboration with another author. I hope that comes to fruition in 2016.

I’ve also been working on the sequel to Neither Here Nor There. I have plenty more to do on that, but hope I can finish that, too, in 2016. And there’s another novel that’s completed but needs changing a bit.

I also edited three novels in 2015 and look forward to more of that. I think I learn from such close reading as much as I contribute.

In 2016, as well as having a more exciting time, I plan to write more and read more.

“That’s not a resolution,” I hear you say. “Resolutions have to be specific. You have to say how many books, how many hours, how many words.”

No, I’m not going to say that. I’m simply going to keep at it. Every day. Maybe…

Although…. At the last minute, in a moment of madness, I signed up again for 100k in 100 days. I’ve never actually succeeded in this challenge, but it seems I will try again to write a thousand words a day for a hundred days starting today.

This blog post is the start. Two hundred and thirty two words. No… two hundred and thirty eight. No…

Categories
Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Marie St Clair

Letters from Elsewhere

I’m delighted to be joined… at least, I think I’m delighted to be joined today by Marie St Clair, who comes straight from the pages of… well, I’ll let her tell you that herself.

Over to you, Marie.

My name is Marie St Clair. I’m a psychiatrist at a prominent British hospital. I have received many professional honours, as well as an O.B.E. from the Queen. My ascent to the heights of my profession was not made easier because I’m a woman. Men, even in this day and age, even in the medical profession, don’t take kindly to the intrusion of the ‘weaker sex’ into their domain. One would think doctors, especially psychiatrists, who are intelligent, educated and supposedly secure in their masculinity, would not fear a woman. But men were and still are intimidated by my beauty. I was strikingly beautiful when a young woman and even now that I’ve reached a certain age, men, even those considerably younger than myself, still find me very attractive.

But recently my husband of twenty-five years, the only man I have ever loved, told me I was a harridan and ran off with a woman two or three years older than myself – which came as a great shock and even led to some lapses in my professional judgement. I never thought it possible that my husband, whom I loved and cared for all these years, would walk out on me. If she had been young and pretty I’d have forgiven him, allowing for his hormones and a mid-life crisis – letting his testosterone make his life-changing decisions.

Although my practice was varied and I have helped many people with many different types of problems, from early in my professional life, marriage and the intricacies of the relationship between a woman and a man never ceased to intrigue. Now I knew what kept me faithful to my husband. I loved him, he loved me. We were intellectually compatible, having the same cultural background – the perfect couple. In addition to this the sex was always incredible – our mutual touching sparked an unbelievable passion. I will not divulge details but our love-making could have been the inspiration for many an erotic film – we did not know or care for inhibition, while every act was by mutual consent – we would not have had it any other way.

But so many of my patients were mismatched! How they ever decided that they were compatible and destined to live together ‘until death us do part’ was a mystery. I observed that when the wife, for I only dealt with married heterosexual couples, was dominant, the marriage was more easily repaired. Divorce inevitably resulted when the husband, to coin a phrase, ‘had a mind of his own’.

So after years of research, empirical but nevertheless well-founded, I developed this theory. It is not necessary to be right to be happy. Happiness will result from allowing your mate to be happy, even if submitting to her every whim is required. Why do I say her? Because marriages where the wife was the dominatrix, seemed to be more blissful. I did not have the statistics to prove this theory – as I said my observations were empirical – so I needed proof.

I looked around for the perfect couple to do a pilot study, which, or so I thought, I’d found in Patricia and Rodney Hart. The results of this study are to be found in Just for Fun an eclectic anthology of short stories and essays written by Henry Tobias, available as an e-book from your favourite e-book retailer and in print from CreateSpace. The title Just for Fun is an appropriate one because I thought my experiment would provide fun, joy and eternal bliss to all marriages.

HenryTobiasJustForFunJust for Fun is an eclectic anthology of short stories and essays written over a period of several years by Henry Tobias for his writing group. It was never his intention to publish, but as his stories were well received and with self-publishing, thanks to modern technology, being as stress free as it is today, he decided that the relative small outlay was worthwhile. This outlay came from securing rights for some of the pictures used to illustrate his stories like, the Andy Capp cartoon, and the reproductions of the painting by Van Gogh and Rembrandt van Rijn. Once the e-book had been published and distributed on Smashwords, the next obvious step was print. There are many small publishers who are willing to publish print-on-demand books today, but Henry chose the do-it-yourself route offered by Amazon’s CreateSpace, for two reasons. The first was the challenge of getting to grips with the technology, not easy for a baby-boomer. The second reason was being able to say ‘I did it myself’. Furthermore, I had been told about D-I-Y websites for cover design of e-books. I discovered Canva, a company apparently located in Australia. I find the site easy and fun to use and when I do have problems I get a prompt reply. I don’t get any financial benefit for mentioning Smashwords, Amazon’s CreateSpace or Canva.

 

HenryTobiasHenry Tobias was born in London, England and raised in Johannesburg, South Africa, where he trained as a pharmacist. As a young boy he was a member of Zionist Youth Movements – one of the factors which influenced his decision to live in Israel. The other influence was The Holocaust – the murder of some SIX MILLION Jews by the Nazis and their accomplices, which included citizens of many of the nations across Europe. He has a deep love of reading, especially history, particularly of World War II, The Holocaust including The Kindertransport and Jewish history throughout the ages. Some of his favourite authors are Richard Overy, Bernard Lewis and John Toland. Now retired, he writes and edits. He lives near Jerusalem with Jill, his wife of 44 years. He has three adult children and so far one beautiful granddaughter. He has published one anthology of eclectic short stories and essays, Just for Fun, and is currently working on his second book, an historical novel of World War II, provisionally titled Honour Thy Father and Thy Mother, which he hopes to publish before the end of 2016.

Links

Just for Fun can be found on Smashwords, Amazon, Kobo, iBooks, Oyster and Flipkart.

Henry Tobias can be found on his blog.

Categories
Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Angus Montrose

Good morning! Today, 25th December, is the birthday of someone who is very much connected to the land in which I live. Yes, today we celebrate the birthday of

Letters from Elsewhere

D.r. Brauner (David Brauner) by welcoming a former prime minister of Scotland, who tells us his unusual story. Take it away, Angus, och ay.

My name is Angus Montrose, the Father of Scottish independence and ex-prime minister. I’m an altogether extra-large man. Tall. Wide. Fleshy. Thick-necked. Big-headed. Everything about me is big. My presence. Gestures. And a booming voice.

I was right-handed before I took office. I left the PM’s Bute House residence the day I curled the fingers of my left hand around the thick, short handle of a brewer’s copperhead hammer. I flattened the splayed fingers of my right hand in the reeking vomit and good whisky I’d heaved up all over my desk. Arm high overhead, the copperhead hammer orbited in a tight circle. Fixing on the huge paw that anchored me to my desk, I steadied myself. ‘Long … live … Scotland…’ And in a white, flashing arc, I brought the hammer down on my right hand.

I now write in great difficulty with my left hand, the sinister one, the one that brought me down and ended my career. I lived for Scotland, breathed for the Scottish people and shepherded our long-suffering nation out of repression and into independence.

It was Brew Moray, a Scotsman of the Jewish persuasion, the first Chief Rabbi of his people, who broke me. He wanted nothing more than to leave Scotland with his people. Like Moses wanting to leave Egypt-land with his band of Hebrew slaves.

At our first meeting on Monday 27 July 20—, he said to me, ‘There are two kinds of Jews: those who are home in the Land of Israel, and those who are on their way.’ And I countered, ‘There’s only one kind of Scot: the kind who stays in Scotland.’ To which he said that he ‘felt very proud to be a Scotsman.’

I didn’t believe that. ‘But, Rabbi,’ I asked, ‘where, sir, is your heart?’ And he put his right hand on his breast and said, ‘Right here.’ O, how he evaded me. Before he left, I took his hand in a vice-grip, and make no mistake I hurt him, for the Rabbi openly massaged his sore hand.

I asked, ‘Is it some sort of Jewish tradition, Rabbi, to rub your hand after you people shake?’ His reply: ‘Ay, a very old tradition, but one not usually practiced much these days.’

To say the least we Scots did not get off to a good start. Right from the beginning things soured beyond all imagination. We looked at the world beyond our new borders and saw a pernicious mess – but that strife and pestilence was always somewhere else, in the God-forsaken places, but never, never, Heaven forbid, in bonny Scotland. And certainly not when I, Angus Montrose, the Bellicose, was at helm. How I came a cropper was only because of him, them. And with that I rest my left hand from its scrawled lament.

another god_kindle cover - media.

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A cautionary tale of the near future …

another god

a novel of

Independent Scotland

by

D.r. Brauner

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What does the future hold for

Independent Scotland?

What if…? The speculative fiction depicted in another god has not come to life, not yet. But it could – after Scotland achieves independence. A rabbi’s dream could change the trajectory of one nation and save another nation from destruction. A prime minister’s Machiavellian patriotism could launch a new nation-state on an aimless course into oblivion. One woman’s miracle can produce a love-child. And another woman’s strength and daring might rescue a thousand lives. Scotland’s future history is yet to be written – or is it?

BIO

David and DaisyD.r. Brauner is a writer, editor and photographer. He was born in England, raised in America and holds an MLitt in English Linguistics from the University of Edinburgh. He wrote and photographed for The Jerusalem Post for fifteen years. During the last twenty-five years, he has edited academic papers and books and was the language editor of Yad Vashem Studies Holocaust journal from 2007 to 2014. From the early 1990s to this day, he has mentored a Creative Writing Circle in Jerusalem that has produced hundreds of memoirs, essays, short stories and novels, not a few of which have been published. Wherever David is, he is living in another world of images and books, kites and bikes, hopes and dreams. In this world life is all the better for having met his wife Ruth and finding their sweet dog Daisy.

Links

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Categories
Books

Ailsa’s Books are on Sale

Ailsa Abraham is back on the blog to tell you about a special sale of two special books. I know they’re special – I’ve read them.

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Elf yourself!

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TWO DAYS ONLY!

 

YULE LOVE THIS IDEA!

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2CoffeesOrTwoBooksWe celebrate the Winter Solstice or Yule so as my gift to you readers I would like to present – for the two days of 22nd and 23rd December only…..Both books in the Alchemy series at 99p or cents each for an e-book. Come on, less than a cup of coffee? Lasts longer and keeps you awake better!

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Click on the link below to see them on Amazon in YOUR country.

Universal Amazon link – anywhere in the world

 

Plenty of five star reviews and the third one is on the way – grab them while they’re this price!

 

WHAT DO YOU GET?

AlchemyBook 1 ALCHEMY  A world without war? Professor Sawhele Fielding stumbles across an invention that would change the world; something so monumental, it could spell the end of environmental disaster and conflict. With the help of her father, a shadowy figure in the world of international banking, she begins to set into motion the biggest upheaval the planet has seen. But in a changed world, dark forces are threatening the fragile peace. Where modern technology is proving useless, old magic from a bygone era might just save the day. Adrian Oliver, expert in ancient religions is skeptical until faced with incontrovertible proof that ancient evil is abroad once again. How could a Utopian dream of free fuel and peaceful co-existence turn into a nightmare? Iamo, a priest of the Mother Goddess and Riga, a Black Shaman assassin captain, are thrown together – reluctantly at first – to face a threat that nobody could have imagined before “The Changes”.

ALCHEMY is the prequel to Shaman’s Drum which features the adventures of Iamo and Riga through their world in the near future, where the established religions of our own days had been banned.

ShamansDrumBook 2 SHAMAN’S DRUM  England in the near future. Mainstream religions have been outlawed, and the old gods rule again. Iamo has been a priest of the Great Mother and is sworn to celibacy, but his love for Riga, a Black Shaman, a magical assassin, caused him to break his vows. After being imprisoned apart from each other for three years, Iamo accepts an offer to earn them both a pardon and the possibility of marriage. If they survive. Iamo and Riga must discover why demons are breaking through from the other side. Which of the cults are renegades who allow the demons through? Who can they trust? Combining their powers, they face the ordeal with the help of a band of eclectic pagans, spirit creatures, Riga’s Black Shaman brothers, an undercover Christian granny, and three unusually energetic Goths. It’s a tough assignment, but the hope of a life together keeps them fighting.

Star

Categories
Books

The 9th Hour

Facebook keeps reminding me of snow pictures, because, two years ago, we had more snow than I’ve ever seen – anywhere. This year, however, Jerusalem has been gifted with sun and warmth… so far. Not so for fellow Crooked Cat author, Claire Stibbe, who is visiting the blog today.

Hi Miriam

Thank you so much for inviting me to your blog this chilly, snowy December morning. Well, it is here in New Mexico, USA, where cedar fires are burning in every hearth and people are already slugging down that eggnog by the jug.

Claire B&WI just want to say WOW, is it December already? That means National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) has ended. Congratulations to some of the Crooked Cat Publishing authors who took part in it and finished. Miriam, that’s you! Thank you, Claire 🙂

Crooked Cat Publishing released the first in my Detective Temeke series, The 9th Hour, in November of this year. One of the hardest obstacles of writing is the perfectionism we authors have with our books. Does it read well? Does it makes sense? Is it even interesting? We know every word counts and venturing onto that blank page with words that either stick or get deleted the following day is a daunting task. I’m always wandering between the park and my office in the search for scenes, words and great dialogue. I brainstorm, tell and re-tell. I watch the weather for signs, smells and sounds.

In my fictional world, the characters are the ones who lead the book. They take me to places my structure never knew existed and trample on any specific sequence of events I may have penned in advance. With fiction, it’s all smoke and mirrors and outlines… Eh? What’s an outline anyway?

I loved writing The 9th Hour because it became spontaneous, exciting and nothing like I imagined it would be. Detective Temeke strayed off those pages into a world of his own and I had to run to keep up. He can be downright stubborn and thoughtless, but his sniffer is the most accurate yet. The only problem is, Temeke is the one who, by hook or by crook, always raises the stakes. Any conflict with him is going to be high.

Malin Santiago becomes larger as the series grows. In the second book, Night Eyes, she is more settled in her role as Temeke’s partner. She watches and learns as one does in a new job. It’s not until the third book that she literally jumps off the page.  I have tremendous respect for her and Temeke as I do for real detectives in the real world. If it wasn’t for the detectives I’ve spent valuable time with, these characters would be as flat as a cow pat.

When I finished the second book, Night Eyes, there was a round of applause in my house and a time of great celebration. As I embark on the third in the series over the next nine weeks, I’m reminded of a small voice saying – finishing is the single thing that separates those who want to write from those who actually have. So I keep learning and I keep writing. There’s nothing I’d rather do.

9th smoke

If you enjoy psychological thrillers mixed with a little Scandinavian noir, The 9th Hour is available on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo and Smashwords. It is also on sale for 99c / 99p for a short time over the Christmas season.

Thank you, Claire. I have a special interest in this novel, because I was lucky enough to edit it, and I can tell you it’s well worth the read.

Links

The 9th Hour or for all Amazon regions

Other books by author Claire Stibbe:

Chasing Pharaohs

The Fowler’s Snare

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Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Lauren

Letters from Elsewhere

Today we’re privileged to see a letter from Lauren to Christie, brought to us by Teresa Cutler-Broyles. (Details at the end.)

December 18, 2015

Hi Christie!

mtnsI hope you, Emily and Robyn are doing well. I’m so sad to be missing Christmas with you all but the ranch is amazing. I can’t believe I’ll be working here next summer, and being able to spend these two weeks here right now is… well, let me tell you everything.

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The name of the ranch is Bear Basin – they have real bears here in the summer! My dad and I arrived just yesterday. To get here we had to drive through the most gorgeous mountains with all these twisty roads, through the forests and along these long narrow meadows. There’s snow around but it’s mostly melted, and the skies are so blue it’s almost unreal. So much bluer than at home, and you can see forever. Just before the turnoff to the ranch itself you can see the most incredible mountain range way far away. Immense peaks covered in snow that go on forever and ever. It’s called the Sangre de Cristos – that means the blood of Christ – and it looks like it’s miles and miles away.

My dad’s friends are really nice! Zeke and Amanda, and they own this whole ranch. I was reading about it on our way here and it covers more than 10,000 acres.

All the buildings are really old – more than a hundred! We pulled up and everything looked deserted – there were some horses – all Appaloosas – in the corral but nothing else. I was scared, thinking that we were in the wrong place. It seemed so isolated. I almost told my dad I changed my mind, then all of a sudden all the ranch dogs ran to greet us and some people came out of the buildings and when we got out of the truck everyone gave us hugs, even the people that didn’t know us, and it suddenly felt like home. I met the people I’ll be living and working with next summer.

Zeke and Amanda are the owners of the whole ranch.
Karen and Bob are the ranch managers.
Francois is their French chef – yes, in the middle of nowhere, Colorado, a real French chef!
Eli is their horse trainer and head wrangler – and he is very handsome. He looks just like the guy in any Western movie that you can’t tell if he’s the good guy or the bad guy. Maybe don’t tell Jackson I said Eli was handsome. 🙂
Sally and Jessica are wranglers but that’s not all they do. They’re a little older than us, about 20. Sally is like an Amazon. She’s big and strong, and she is a farrier so they don’t have to call outside to shoe the horses. I’m going to ask her to show me how to do that. Jessica is African American, and she is getting her degree in Denver for being a veterinarian. She’s working on the ranch as part of her classes. Isn’t that cool?

There were some others, some friends of Zeke and Amanda visiting, but I don’t remember their names. They were musicians and that first night we all gathered around the fireplace in the main bunkhouse – yes, a real bunkhouse – and they played guitars and violins until long past midnight.

This morning Francois cooked normal bacon and eggs – I thought it would be French bacon and eggs 🙂 – and then my dad left for home. It was hard to say goodbye, but I know he’ll be back up to get me after the first of the year. And David’s at home to keep him company over the holiday.

To cheer me up, Eli and Jessica took me for a ride. I got to choose the horse I wanted to ride out of the ones in the corral so I chose the biggest Appaloosa. Her name is Blue, and Eli had to give me a boost to get on her. They wouldn’t let me ride bareback, which I understand but it was still a bummer. Next summer I’ll show them I know how when I get Jack here.

I just know Jack will be fine here on the ranch. Even with only one eye, he’ll be able to learn the trails and figure out the gates. It’s not much different than the trail classes he’s won. Well… at home we don’t have rocky, twisty mountain trails in the forests that dip down into the valleys along steep slopes… okay, so yeah it’s a lot different. 🙂 But still I think he’ll do well. He’s smart, and he trusts me, and once he finds his place in the herd the other horses will take care of him, too.

Zeke and Amanda told me that they raise and ride Appaloosas here because they’re the most sure-footed in the mountains, and from just the one ride so far I can say that’s true. Blue didn’t misstep once, didn’t trip, and even on the steepest hill she moved like she was on flat ground. I was terrified at first but she took care of me and I got over it fast. On hal_burrothe ride we saw a man running behind a burro. I thought he was trying to catch his loose animal but Eli said that was his friend Howard, and that he does something called burro racing where he runs behind the burro in full-length marathons. I’m definitely going to find out more about that next summer – can you imagine running behind an equine instead of ON one??

The best part of the ride happened when we got to the top of this curved trail that went through really dense trees. Suddenly we broke out onto this flat area. Snow covered most of the ground and we were higher than all the hills around us. We could see in every direction, forever, and everywhere we looked were more and more mountains far away, fading into the distance. They told me one of them was Pike’s Peak, and that’s more than 50 miles away. The skies had white, fluffy clouds that just hovered high, high above. There was no noise at all except for the horses’ breathing and the creak of leather as they shifted from foot to foot.

They say in the summer the ground is covered in wildflowers and the sky is just as blue.
I can’t wait to come back.

There’s so much more but I’d better go for now! Please give Jack a big hug from me and give him a carrot, and tell Frank and Steve I said hi. I’m writing a separate letter to Jackson so he’ll get that when you get this one.

I love you guys! Merry Christmas, and I can’t wait to see you when I get home!
Oh, I’ve included a couple of photos so you can see it all.

Bye!
Love,
Lauren

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From the forthcoming Mountain Jack, by Teresa Cutler-Broyles. Mountain Jack takes place on a real ranch in Central Colorado, and is book two in the YA series that began with One Eyed Jack, the story of Lauren and her one-eyed horse. One Eyed Jack is available on Amazon.com ( http://amzn.to/1magqF5 ).

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me_book_sign_page_oneTeresa Cutler-Broyles is an author, traveler, and adventure guide, and has been writing since she was eight years old; her first published piece was an article about her one-eyed horse in Western Horseman Magazine. Currently she lives in New Mexico with two goofy dogs and her husband, and divides her time between there and Italy where she teaches in the summer. When she’s not teaching or writing, she’s probably researching something historical and architectural, or off on another adventure. Story ideas happen to her when she travels; what better reason to get off the couch!

More upcoming books include an historical novel set in 1570 Italy, and more. She can be contacted at www.tlcwritingtours.com or www.herosjourney-italy.com.