Plotting a Wild Ride

Here we are, the week before Halloween, and the thermometer reads eighty degrees in our little corner of Pennsylvania. The only word I can use to describe it (besides beautiful, which is getting a little overworked around here) is UNREAL. The weekend was as stunning as they come around here. The leaves are finally getting some color and the sky was a brilliant blue.

And I spent the entire day Saturday INSIDE.


Okay, it was worth it. My local chapter of Sisters in Crime put on a daylong workshop on plotting the mystery novel with fellow Pennwriter Victoria Thompson sharing her wisdom with all in attendance. I took pages and pages of notes, including some ideas specifically pertaining to my third Jessie Cameron Mystery, which I hope to get working on after the holidays. I think I can also use the techniques I learned to plot out the short story I’m currently playing around with. Of course, I need to find the time to actually DO the work. At least I’m getting some of it put together inside my head. If you see me this week and I look more distracted than usual, it’s probably because I’m plotting.

So Saturday came and went without me taking to the great outdoors to soak up the end of summer in October. I made up for it on Sunday.

Did I wash and wax my car (STILL on my to-do list)? Heavens NO. Once again, I went horseback riding.

This week, the camera and its buzzing bee sound-effects didn’t seem to bother Admiral. I got some nice shots.


I also nearly got bucked off.

After thinking that Admiral was really shaping up into a decent trail horse, one that I’d feel safe on even at my old haunt, Beaver Creek, he went and turned stupid on me yesterday.

He and Nikki mare seem to be joined at the brain…pea-sized brain, to be sure. When one spooks, the other one does, too. This is to be expected and I’ve learned to tolerate it to some extent. But I don’t understand why, when Nikki decided to put on a bucking show, Admiral had to try to out do her. At least, I assume Nikki started it. I’m not sure. Neither Sara nor I saw the other in trouble because we were too busy dealing with our own ends of the mini rodeo.

Admiral took one big leap and sent me airborne. As in air between my backside and the seat of the saddle. Luckily, when I landed, I was still in the seat of the saddle. I recall in my younger days, not landing so well. Coming down behind the saddle: NOT GOOD. Coming down in front of the saddle: DEFINTELY NOT GOOD. Coming down ON the saddle horn: Been there, done that. Don’t care to talk about it.

However, I did come down on the seat and was able to clamp onto the little bucking fool and snatch up on his head. So the one big leap was followed by a couple small hops as I gave him an attitude adjustment. By the time I got him stopped and standing, Sara and Nikki were all done with their battle, too. Neither of us hit the ground. All is well.

Hubby is now questioning my sanity once again. But so far, the fun outweighs the pain. I have one nice blue bruise on my thigh where I must have really grabbed onto the saddle swells. But my back does not require a trip to the chiropractor (any more than usual, anyway), so I’m fine.

It wasn’t the beautiful autumn ride I had plotted in my mind. But sometimes writing is like that, too. You plan one thing and your characters go in another direction. It keeps things interesting.