Writer's Block

I'm sure anyone who has sat down to write a paper of any kind has experienced  trouble getting the words to come, from being unable to express your thoughts to complete loss of any relevant ideas, we all have suffered some form of the notorious "writer's block".

How do I conquer it? I've compiled a list of  ideas that help me out.

1. Just write. Stop being lazy.
Sometimes it just boils down to sitting yourself down and forcing yourself to write. Let's face it, we all can be pretty lazy!

2. Look at pictures.
This idea helps me out quite a bit. In fact, I have an entire board on Pinterest just as a place to go when I need some inspiration (granted, I probably waste too much time finding and pinning these pictures, but let's not go there). Most of the short stories I write are based on pictures--from landscapes, to faces, medieval castles and abandoned asylums, pictures can feed the imagination in amazing ways.

3. Read.
Don't forget to read during all of your writing! This, I believe, is the best way for writers to grow. Try all kinds of different styles of writing--grab a young adult dystopian novel, visit some of Charles Dickens' masterpieces, take a walk in one of Edgar Allan Poe's dark tales, try out a mystery or a "choose your adventure" novel. There's a world of words out there--all of which will help ignite your creativity and broaden your perspective.

4. Take a walk.
So, this might be a bit cliche, but sometimes getting out in nature and simply relaxing will help clear your head and get your creativity going again. Take a deep breath, enjoy some sunshine and birdsong, then go write!

5. Put away social media, TV, cellphone, etc.
This one is a no-brainer. Entertainment--at least most of the time--kills creativity. It turns your brain off and tells you not to think. Set aside 24 hours (or if you can't go that long, at least half a day) and choose to avoid the internet, television, and using your cellphone. Fewer distractions mean more writing.

6. Find your "quiet spot"
At my grandparent's farm in Indiana, they have a large field centered with a single tree on the grassy rise. This tree has a particular branch with a perfect crook in it just right for perching in to read or write--I would call this my "quiet spot". It's probably my favorite spot on planet earth (besides the back of my horse, perhaps). Now, I doubt many people prefer to sit in a tree or pen their novel while on horseback, but I think you see my point. Find a place where you are comfortable, can relax and limit distractions, then dedicate that spot for pursuing creativity! Believe me, it works.

7. Change up the perspective.
While working on a story, I often find it helpful to do what I refer to as "character building exercises" and write your story from a different perspective. What do I mean? If you are writing from third person, try writing a section in first person. Take a scene and write it from the perspective of something else--an inanimate object, an otherwise forgotten onlooker, or a different character. I find this sort of exercise helps me get through spots that I get really stuck on.

I hope these tips can help you if you're ever stuck! Whatever you're working on, stick with it and always look for ways to improve and expand your writing! Good luck :)

Laughter Lane

Another short story. Enjoy!

                It was in the midst of the hottest summer I can remember, out in the foothills of Kentucky among the trees and the rocks, when the car came to a slow halt. My papa slammed a hand against the steering wheel and said a phrase that hardly ever meant something good;

                “Well, that’s that.”

                We were out of gas on a little back road, far from any gas station, with a car full of suitcases and camping supplies, halfway to our destination. I remember my ma, twenty-some minutes earlier, saying we should fill up before we got too far out into the hills. But papa just chuckled and said we’d make it just fine. Well, I guess we now know who was right.

                “I’ll have to walk back down to the corner where we saw that house an’ see if they’ll give me a hand,” Papa ran a large, calloused hand through his already tousled hair and glanced into the rear-view mirror—looking at me first, and then at little baby Jill.

                Ma nodded, turning to look at me where I sat all wide-eyed and curious. It was to be my first camping trip out in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, and so far it had been the strangest trip I’d experienced in all of my eight years on this earth.

                “Well, I’ll be back as quick as I can,” Papa opened the door and glanced at all of us, a line running down the center of his forehead that ma said always meant he was thinking too hard. “Stay in the car.”

                Then he took off on his way back down the road, and we were left to watch the tall trees wave their branches with the wind. All was good and fine until little Jill started crying. Ma held her in her lap and sang a few songs, glancing out the window at the trees, thinking about papa.

                It started getting dark, and ma was obviously worried. Jill finally fell back to sleep, but I was awake and scared too. The wind started howling outside and the sun ducked behind some big, dark clouds and didn’t come back out. Ma crawled back to sit with me and told me stories, but after a bit we both just sat real quiet, watching the wind and hoping for papa to get back soon.

                That’s when we saw something frightening. An animal was coming up the road toward us—a mighty big dog, as dark as the storm clouds overhead. Then we heard some men hollering, and I got real scared, and started crying. Ma held me tight, but didn’t say a thing—I only learned how scared she was later when we laughed about the story.

                Two men came into view, battling against the wind, and I recognized papa. Elated, I sprang from Ma’s arms plastered myself against the window, watching as he approached. Gas can in hand and a smile on his face, he tapped on the window and gave us all big hugs when we opened the door.

                It may have been the scariest moment of my young life, but now our family laughs in its memory. We later learned that the road we broke down on was called Laughter Lane, and the tale of that long-gone summer day has been a favorite ever since.

© Copyright Charity K, 2014

Here's To My Sister

On May 17, 2014 my family and I got to celebrate a wonderful occasion. My older sister, Carissa, married the love of her life. It was a beautiful, sun-filled day full of joy, family, and the promise of a great and exciting future for the new couple. I was privileged to be my sister’s Maid of Honor. It was a day that will go down as one of my favorites.

Since this momentous occasion is now past, I decided to dedicate this month’s blog post to my sister and her special day. I will share the speech I gave at the wedding’s reception.

Hi.  For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Charity.  I am the maid of honor and sister of the bride.  I have to admit that it was hard for me to decide what to say today because it isn’t easy to sum up everything I would love to say in just a short speech. 

Carissa, I have known you my whole life.  We have laughed together, we have cried together … You’ve been a role model for me to look up to, and a friend I could always rely on and share my deepest thoughts with. You tolerated me through my awkward pre-teen years—shared in my disappointments and dreams. I can’t think of anything perfect enough to describe just how much I love you.  There are no words to define the kind of friend you are to me and I certainly have no idea how to summarize everything that I want to say … but I will say this … 

You are the best sister a girl could ever ask for.  You have always been there for me, and I will ALWAYS be here for you. I don’t know where I would be without you, and I don’t know what the future has in store or what God has planned, but I do know that standing here today … on your wedding day … is exactly where I’m supposed to be. 

Every once in a while when two people meet, you know that it is meant to be.  And in my case, I have a journal entry proving just that. A few months ago, I was paging through an old journal of mine from 2008 and came across the phrase ... “I think Nathan likes Carissa” ... Just those words with no explanation as to what drove me to write them, but I can say this: I called it first J 

Nathan, I can’t say I was always happy that you chose to pursue my sister, but looking back I can see how perfect you two are together. It has been an incredible experience watching how you two have grown together and complete each other.  Not only do you love each other, but you love God and other people as well, and that is a truly beautiful thing.  As her Husband, I understand that YOU are her very best friend, and I am willing to pass that torch to you because I know you make her happy, I know you will take care of her, and I know that she loves you more than words can describe … 

I wish you both a very beautiful and blessed life together.

The happy couple shared their first dance to the song “Soulmate” by Josh Turner. It was a beautiful, touching moment. I will share the lyrics for everyone to enjoy.

Soulmate

Until the end of time

You're my soulmate

I'll love you till I get to heaven's gate

And if I go first sweetheart

I'll wait

'Cause I know I'll never find another

Soulmate

Your love

There's no telling where I'd be

Without your love

Stumbling in the dark

Would be pretty rough

When I get down you're the one

That lifts me up

I thank the Lord above

For your love

[Chorus:]

In this day and time

The right one is hard to find

Girl, that's why I'm holding on to you

Each and every night

When we turn out the light

There's no mistaking what we have is true

Soulmate

I hope that we grow old together

Soulmate

In the good and bad

Even through the heartache

We've got a special bond

That'll never break

'Cause darling you and I are

Soulmates

[Repeat Chorus:]

Soulmate

Until the end of time

You're my soulmate

I'll love you till I get to

Heaven's gate

We've got a special bond

That'll never break

'Cause darling you and I are

Soulmates

Yeah, I know I'll never find another

Soulmate

My Book--Chapter One

I admit, deciding what to post for this month has been a bit of a struggle for me. However, I have come to a difficult decision--I'm going to share with you the first chapter of my book. I did consider posting the entirety of my book on my blog, but doing so could potentially hurt the chances of my book getting published. So instead, I am only going to share the first chapter.

Please forgive any errors, but feel free to comment with any corrections or advice. I am always open to suggestions. Also, just so you know, this story is geared toward a young adult age group, although anyone can read it :)

Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Thick morning mist hangs over the countryside like a heavy, gray shroud.  Nothing stirs. There isn’t even a breeze.  The tall, dark trees and lush, dew-covered grass stands motionless and silent.  The sun announces its rising with a soft pink glow that lingers over the distant horizon.  However, the light doesn’t penetrate the damp, cool mist of a sleep-quieted valley.  Then, like the shocking flash of lightning ripping across a black night sky, the peace is broken as the sound of huge, powerful wings—straining for more speed—echoes through the valley.
            The Chosen leans over the neck of his Ferres, his eyes stinging as the wind from their speed beats against his face. He glances over his shoulder. The pursuers still follow on their own winged and horned horses. He guides his Ferres low to the ground, the mist parting before them like the opening to a great chasm. And the pursuers still follow, their black capes lunging out behind them and their dark eyes seeming to burn holes into his back.
            Ahead, somewhere through the mist, there would be safety and shelter in the cover of the Shades.  But he can’t see the forest.  Only a sixth sense told him that they head in the right direction.
            But will they be too late?

The first of his three pursuers is gaining, his mighty black Ferres charges headlong through the mist just a few feet behind the Chosen.  He releases the animal’s reins and lifts a scarlet and silver bow from the folds of his billowing cloak.  Then slowly, almost mechanically, he strings a single white arrow, and draws his arm back.
            The Hunter can see the Shades now, rising from the mist like a wall, menacing and dark. The Shades promise shelter and cover, if only temporary, for the Chosen.  He watches with dark eyes as the Chosen glances once again behind him.
            The Hunter smiles to himself as he takes careful aim. “There is no escape for you now, young Chosen,” he let the arrow fly.

            Elsmar Rethgan sat up with a jerk, drenched in a cold sweat. She shuddered, pushing tangled black hair off her forehead. She looked around in the darkness of her room. Something wasn’t right.
            There was a hint of smoke to the air.
            She was suddenly fully alert. Was that a scream? She bounded from her bed and dashed to the curtained window, peering out toward the nearby town of Roen. Orange flames lit the night sky. Her blood pounded cold through her veins. The town was burning. That could only mean one thing.
            Shadow Riders.
            She turned away from the window, frozen in shock. She had to wake Heldr. Their farm was just a few miles away from the town, on the crest of a tall hill. It was only a matter of time before the Shadow Riders arrived.
            Before she could reach the door, a knock sounded and it burst open. Heldr stood in the entrance; his red hair still messed up from the night’s sleep. In his arms he held a pair of saddlebags, hurriedly stuffed with various necessities.
            “Elsmar, quickly,” he pulled her forward, throwing her heavy cloak over her shoulders. “I’ve saddled Commander, take him and ride to Hartleville. Go to your aunt’s inn there.”
            “But dad—”
            “I’m staying here,” he cut her off. His eyes were dark. She knew it was no time to argue. “Stay with your aunt, I will contact you as soon as it is safe,” he paused to glance out the window. A small group of black-cloaked riders with torches in hand could be seen riding up the road toward their farm. “Now, go!” He drove her forward, opening the back door and sending her out into the darkness. “Go, child, ride will all speed.”
            “I love you dad,” she cried out, looking behind her as she ran to the barn where Commander was waiting. Hot tears blurred her vision as she fastened the saddlebags. Moments later, she was galloping away as the Shadow Riders neared the only home she had ever known.
            Her tears dried as she concentrated on guiding the speeding horse down the hill and toward the Shades. The dark forest appeared like an eerie black wall rising up under the silvery light of the full moon. A thin layer of mist hugged the surface of the earth and swirled around her horse’s churning legs. Everything about the night was menacing, as if nature itself had succumbed to the evil that enveloped the land. Elsmar shuddered and was thankful for her heavy cloak. It was early spring and the night air still held a touch of winter’s cold.
            She knew if she followed the edge of the Shades, she could reach Hartleville in a three days’ ride. Staying so close to the forest bothered her, but it was the only guide she knew that would lead her to her intended goal. The Shades was an ancient forest, fabled to be inhabited by Shadow Riders and a notorious elven sorcerer. Few had entered the heart of the forest and lived to return. The bold among Hunters and Merchants had traveled through the borders of the woods, but none dared to venture much farther into its mysterious depths.
            The darkness of night faded into the gray of early morning. The mist thickened and made it impossible to see very far ahead. Elsmar had no choice but to slow the horse to a walk. The mist swirled and shifted, causing every object to come alive. Elsmar guided Commander forward, careful to stay close to the boarder of the Shades. If she lost sight of the forest, she would be hopelessly lost.
            She pulled Commander to a halt and twisted in her saddle, looking behind her. Had she seen something move? The heavy fog teased her mind. It’s nothing, keep going. She forced herself to send the horse forward at a walk. The hushed rush of wind through powerful wings announced the approach of the Ferres before Elsmar saw it.
            At that moment, her dream became reality.
            Elsmar watched, stunned, as the Ferres’ rider glanced over his shoulder. He glanced to the side—at her—as the huge winged and horned horse soared past. His glance had been just a split second of time, but Elsmar saw it as if it was several minutes. Those icy hazel eyes didn’t plead for aid or reflect terror. They simply held a warning and a message; “You have been called.”
            Then it was gone, shattered, as a white arrow rocketed toward the Chosen. Elsmar saw the rider jerk as the arrow drove into his flesh. Then she lost sight of them as a mixture of fog and the shadows of trees enveloped them.
            The dark-cloaked pursuers burst into view. The foremost of them was stringing another white arrow to his dark bow; his black cloak billowed behind his shoulders. A shiver raced Elsmar’s spine as the hooded figure turned his head toward her. She couldn’t see his eyes but she felt his gaze hit her. It was like a cage of icy metal closing around her.
            The dark rider released the second arrow and vanished from view.
         Terror hit her like a wave. She drove Commander into a gallop, riding away from the scene she had witnessed. Everything that had occurred that morning hit her anew. Overwhelmed tears slid down her face. The town she had grown up in had been burnt, and she didn’t know if the same fate had come to the only home she had ever known and her beloved stepfather. And now, she had witnessed the final moments of a young Chosen’s life.
            She realized that he was probably the same Chosen that the people of Madoma had been whispering about. She knew from stories that there hadn’t been a Chosen seen since the early days of Draetagh’s reign. They had done everything in their power to stop him . . . but they had failed. The Chosen were a symbol of hope, and hope had faded away with the Chosen.
            A sinking feeling echoed in her chest. Would she live to see things like the town elders had described? Peace, life, freedom, and prosperity—not just for the ruling tyrant and his puppet lords. She couldn’t imagine being able to sleep at night without being afraid of Shadow Riders attacking her home, or being taken away without warning to whatever horrid fate awaited her. Heldr had always said they had it easy, that it was much worse in the settlements near Ishlain Varr, the city where Draetagh himself resided. Roan, part of the Central Plains, was on the eastern side of the Shades while Ishlain Varr resided on the western side.
            A sudden sound, like a wild animal’s cry or perhaps a woman’s wail, tore Elsmar out of her thoughts. She looked up, realizing that she was riding just within the edge of the Shades. Commander sprang into a desperate gallop, not listening to Elsmar’s cues to slow. Something huge and dark crashed through the underbrush to her right. Commander twirled and tore madly deeper into the forest.
            “Whoa, boy, Whoa!” Elsmar’s cries did nothing to slow the frightened animal. She could feel her balance thrown off as the horse sprang over a low hedge, stumbling upon landing, and lurching Elsmar to the side. A low hanging branch tore Elsmar from the saddle, knocking her to the ground, and slamming her head against a log.
            Everything went black.
         

Consciousness slowly reclaimed Elsmar. The first thing that she realized was that it was very dark. The second turned her blood cold. She was in the Shades—alone. Her head pounded in protest as she slowly sat up. She gently prodded where it had struck the log and found the spot sticky with blood. Horrified, she drew her hand away.
            Don’t be afraid.  A deep voice echoed through her mind, like a thought that was not her own.
            Something large was standing not far from her; a huge black shape looming in the darkness. She recoiled, scooting away until her back was against the trunk of a cool, moss-coated tree.
            There is no need to fear. The form shifted forward, closer to her.
            Elsmar could almost see it now, even though it was dark, she could see its general shape. A horse? No—
            —a Ferres, It moved forward another step. She could see its huge white wings now. I’m a Ferres.
            Startled, Elsmar stared at the animal. Did it just finish my thought?
            This is how I can speak. I can speak to you through my thoughts. The Ferres walked closer, until he was standing right in front of her. She could see his long, silvery mane hanging down to powerful gray shoulders. His horn glinted in the moonlight, stark against the night sky.
            You can read minds? Her vision blurred momentarily. She felt very light headed. Perhaps she was seeing things.
            No, I can hear your thoughts. He leaned forward, and blew through his nose. His warm breath tickled her scalp, leaving behind a tingling sensation. That should help.
            Elsmar reached up as he drew his head back and prodded her head for the wound. It was gone. Her vision had cleared and head didn’t throb in protest to every move she made. How did you do that? She realized the answer before he said it—magic.
            Yes, Elsmar, magic. Like the elves and fairies, Ferres are magical beings. That is what allows us to have such a close bond with our Chosen. His silver ears pricked as something small rustled past in the nearby brush.
            Elsmar stared at the stunning animal, wondering what sort of luck it was that she would meet a Ferres. She didn’t even realize that he had known her name. How did you find me?
            That, was probably the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Finding you was like smelling out water when I am thirsty. I’am drawn to you.
            You’re drawn to me? What is that supposed to mean?
            The Ferres shifted his weight, lifting his wings and arching his glistening neck. I wished to find you at a better time, but I see that we both have no choice in this. He paused, as if preparing himself, I am Keldiar and you, Elsmar Rethgan, are my Chosen.
            Chosen! She drew in a deep breath. The image of the Chosen, fleeing from the Shadow Riders flashed before her eyes. Her stomach turned as she re-lived seeing him jerk in the saddle as the arrow found its mark. I’m a Chosen?
            She stared at him for a moment, enveloped in complete shock, and then the shock eased away, leaving her to feel absolutely nothing. As if she were numb.
            Ignoring her reaction, he continued. These are desperate times. The Ferres studied her with his large, liquid eyes, we must go. There is much to do.
            Elsmar blinked and closed her eyes. This has to be another dream.
            Its not, Keldiar’s voice rumbled.
           I have to get to my aunt’s house. I have to know if Heldr is ok. For some reason, her excuses struck her as trivial compared to the obviously enormous task that the Ferres referred to—freeing Madoma from Draetagh.
            We can go to your aunt’s home. We will need supplies for the trip.
            What trip?
            To the Crystal City, of course.
            The Crystal City! Elves! Elsmar straightened. She had always dreamed of meeting an elf, but the majority of the race had vanished long before she was born. It was rumored that the elves lived in a secret city of crystal, somewhere in northern mountain range known as The Heights.
            Yes, elves, lifting his silver head, he glanced over his muscular shoulder. We should get moving. It’s not safe in the woods this night.
            Wait, she stood. What about the other Chosen? Are their more?
            Only one other. . . and as for his fate, that does not rest in our hands. It is likely much too late now.
            So, I’m the only one? How am I supposed to be a Chosen? I’m only seventeen. I’m no hero.
            He cocked his head to the side, studying her, maybe not yet. But it is who you are on the inside which truly matters. In time, you will find yourself. He gracefully lowered to his knees. Now, come, we must hurry. There are dark ones who will wish to bring you harm. We should go.
            Elsmar hesitantly slid onto Keldiar’s silky back, tucking her knees between his shoulders and powerful wings. She gathered a handful of his silver hair, don’t go too fast.
            The Ferres chuckled, and hurtled into the air.

© Copyright Charity K, 2014

Also, I am looking for a few people (preferably not family members) who would be willing to read the entire story and give me feedback--if you are interested let me know!

Reading Recomendations

I want to share my top picks for books for you to read as well as give you a list of the best and most influential horse books (and movies) that I’ve read over the years!

Adults; It would be—hands down—The Mistborn Trilogy by Brandon Sanderson. It has been several years since I (first) read these books. I enjoyed these so much that I shared the books with everyone in my family. The main character(s) are unforgettable, with unique personalities that draw you into the story. The magic system is completely unique as well as perfectly applied to the world and story.  This trilogy is my favorite by a landslide and I recommend it to anyone who is a fan of the fantasy genre. All that said, while the series is rather clean, I wouldn’t recommend them for younger readers since they can be dark, include brutal fights, and more mature elements. Mistborn: The Final Empire, The Well of Ascension, and The Hero of Ages.

Young Adult; if you want something besides the popular Hunger Games or Divergent series, I would recommend the River of Time trilogy by Lisa Tawn Bergren. This is a Christian series (“Christian” being used loosely) and is a clean, historical fiction with a good dose of action and adventure. I just finished reading these, and despite some glaring loopholes that bothered me to no end, I really did enjoy this trilogy. The storyline is unique and is led by a strong female character who I found relatable and fun. Typical of Young adult fiction, this trilogy has elements of both the fantastical and the all-too-predictable love story. However, I was pleased that this trilogy didn’t have an annoying love triangle and the heroine doesn’t lose her mind when faced with painful choices—so with that in mind, enjoy an easy and exciting read with this series.  Waterfall, Cascade, and Torrent.

For the Kids; The 100 Cupboards Trilogy by N. D. Wilson. I have to admit that I read this trilogy only a couple years ago and thoroughly enjoyed it, so it’s not just for the kids if you want an easy and entertaining read. Otherwise, I would say this is a great place for a young reader to start. My younger brother never really cared for reading until he started this series—he hasn’t stopped reading since. So if you know a kid who you know would enjoy reading but hasn’t seem to be bit by the bug, try these books :) The 100 Cupboards trilogy is unique, fun, and clean. I can see parents enjoying reading this group of books to their kids. However, be warned, there are some moments in the books that could be pretty scary for a really young child. 100 Cupboards, Dandelion Fire, and The Chestnut King.

A few of my other favorites:

Elantris by Brandon Sanderson

Firebird trilogy by Kathy Tyers

King Raven trilogy by Stephen R. Lawhead

Genesis of Shannara trilogy by Terry Brooks

Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling

Blink by Ted Dekker

And last but not least, my list of horse books for those of you who love equines. Most of these are from my childhood, but I still love them and recommend them to any horse lover.

The Black Stallion series by Walter Farley. Read them all in order. You don’t understand what it is to love horses if you haven’t read them. I still love them and I started them when I was really little. There are 19 books total, my favorite has always been The Black Stallion Revolts, but I didn’t like the last four. Be sure to read The Young Black Stallion (sometimes listed as book 20, but I would read it first) and don’t skip the Island Stallion books because they are part of the series—and some of my favorite. Don’t worry about the other books by Steven Farley (Walter Farley’s son) they aren’t that great. A good list of the series can be found here https://www.goodreads.com/series/49696-the-black-stallion.

Pulling a close second is the Unicorns of Balinor series by Mary Stanton. These books really are what started my love of reading and writing in the fantasy genre. It has been many, many years since I read these but I still haven’t forgotten them. So with that said, these are fantastic for young readers who love horses as well as magic and adventure.

Next, is the Phantom Stallion series by Terri Farley. I don’t know if the author is related to Walter Farley, but these books are great for young horse lovers. Read them!

King of the Wind: The Story of the Gadolphin Arabian by Marguerite Henry—this book is amazing and sadly is often overlooked. I loved it and you will too. Look for other books by this author, they are all great.

Man 'O War by Walter Farley is a great book as well. It sparked my interest in horse racing and is a wonderful fictional telling of one of the greatest race horses of all time.

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell—can be a little unsettling as it deals with horses being abused. But it is a classic of literature and I fully recommend it.

Horsefeathers series by Dandi Daley Mackall—great easy to read Christian series that is fun and touching. I loved this series as a pre-teen.

Thunderhead, Son of Flicka by Mary O’Hara—I think I read all her horse books, but this is one of one of my favorites. I’m not sure if her books are free of language though, so be wary of that.

The Sorrel Stallion by David Grew—found this book on a shelf in my grandparent’s house one summer many years ago and read it because (obviously) it was about horses. I will never forget it and it is not for young kids, it deals with both the abuse of horses and horse slaughter. Not a pleasant book, however I still recommend it.

The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater—this is a stand-alone Young Adult fiction about some very interesting carnivorous sea-horses. I really enjoyed it, but it’s not for everyone. *disclaimer—this book does contain some bad language.

Also, to complete your equine experience, you have to watch these movies—The Black Stallion, is the best horse movie out there by a landslide. Watch Black Beauty, The King of the Wind, and The Rouge Stallion (my second favorite from childhood). Be sure to watch The Man From Snowy River, which is a great horse movie even though it isn’t necessarily about the horses. War Horse, Dreamer, Seabiscut, and Secretariat are all good movies as well.

Well, by now I have probably bored you with all my horse-talk. I spent the first thirteen years of my life reading and watching nothing but horse-related books and movies, so as you can imagine I hardly scratched the surface with this list. But, if you (or someone in your family) loves horses this list pretty much covers all the best books and movies I discovered and feel need to be shared! Enjoy

The Return

It's a new year and time for some new stories on my blog. I've been funneling most of my creative inspiration into working on my book. However, I did make time to write a short story. Also, if you have any ideas you would like me to try my hand at, just comment below and let me know :) I'm always looking for inspiration!

This story is on a positive note and draws focus to the possibility of hope and new beginnings. I'm not too fond of this piece, but I hope you can enjoy it anyway! Short enough to read in one sitting.

It happened in the year 2100, right when the League of Nations celebrated 25 years of peace. They never saw it coming. But with the push of a button the world as we knew it went up in the smoke of nuclear destruction. Even the most powerful Nations collapsed. No one survived. No one, that is, but those of us who escaped into the Haven before the bombs went off.

                Two hundred and seventy three people all huddled in an underground city, knowing that they were the last of humanity. The Builders ensured that the Haven could support life for hundreds and even thousands of years—and it did. We survived here, you see, for many generations, each clinging onto life until the radiation faded and the Surface could once again sustain life.

                The Growers preserved over five thousand species of plants and twice as many animals, birds, and even insects. Everything gathered and preserved to ensure the continuation of humanity.

We are the ninety-fourth generation of Survivors, and today is the Great Day of Testing.

                Is the Surface ready for our return?

                Liva closed her journal and turned at the sound of the chiming bell. It’s time. All the Survivors would gather in the Square to witness the Testing. She knotted her mess of curly hair at the nape of her neck and pulled on her shoes.

                Pulse racing, she joined the throng of people moving toward the Square. She looked up at the bright day-lights that shone over the entirety of the Haven. I wonder what sunlight would be like. The descriptions in the records penned by the first Survivors filled her with wonder. Tales of open fields of green as far as the eye could see, of a cool breeze playing through her hair, and the warm touch of sunlight on her skin thrilled her senses. Such a foreign and strange world the Surface must’ve been—she hungered to see and experience it.

                She entered the Square, packed shoulder to shoulder with every living Survivor, just as the President lifted the Tester—a small tree encased within a glass bulb—which would be sent to the Surface. Silence filled the Square as the plant  placed and sealed in the lift. Then it went rocketing toward the surface where it would rest for twenty-four hours.

                The day passed in the silence of anticipation. Liva caught herself checking the time, wondering about the tiny plant resting alone on long-forsaken Surface. On the following morning, the people of the Haven gathered to witness the result of the test. A muffled thud sounded as the lift  reversed and the Tester returned into the depths of the Haven. In silence, the president retrieved the bulb and raised it to where the crowd could see.

                A gasp resounded through the Square. The tiny tree’s leaves were green and healthy—and the words at the base of the Tester glowed SAFE.

                “Lift the shield,” the President ordered in a voice of awe.

                The Haven shook with a great rumble as the cover protecting the Dome slowly rolled back. A burst of dust filled the square, momentarily blurring Liva’s vision. Then a bright golden glow streamed through the dancing particles of dust. Liva lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the warm, blinding light.

                “Sunlight!”  the whisper of amazement from all around her, “its sunlight!”

                She lifted her hands toward the light, laughing and crying with joy. The Surface  ready for their return.

© Copyright Charity K, 2014