The Pipe

Trip made his way up the rocky incline. In less than a hundred yards, the trail ended against the purple wall of the hill. He tried to climb farther hoping the trail continued higher up.  His foot slipped and he fell back on the rocks lining the trail. “They couldn’t have come this way,” he said to himself. He climbed again thinking why would a trail end against a wall? He wondered if some spaceship had picked the aliens off the mountain. He grabbed a rock and tossed it hard against the wall, angry that he’d failed his duty. There was no way around that wall.

            Looking up, he realized twilight had descended and he needed to return to the city for safety. He hurried his steps still looking back to see where the elusive aliens might have gone. He never gave thought to how he would explain chasing aliens outside the city. The security officer had seen them. So had Kraft and Reema. He could easily bear down on Kraft’s mind to make him tell the truth. He worried about Reema, though, because her telepathic skills were formidable. Would she lie about the aliens?  He needed proof.   

Instantly he twisted on his heels and ran back down the road toward the black tree. He could hardly see in the growing darkness, but he scrambled up the hidden path. When he found the outcropping that had torn the alien’s shirt, he groped with his hand till he felt the soft cloth. In the dark it didn’t look red, but the nubby feel of it assured him it was what he was looking for.  He stuffed it into his jumpsuit pocket and ran as fast as he could toward the city, the glow of the highway guiding his steps.

Finally Reagent gets pasture. It's been a long haul and hard on a horse that's 27 years old. His legs were wrapped, and he was provided with periodic water on the seven hour trip. He was also allowed out of the trailer to graze by the road and get his balance back. Our grandchild would say, "My legs are wobbly."

As noted in "The Backyard Horse" it took him a couple of days to get over his fear of a new place. The biggest problem for any horse results from losing a friendly horse buddy, especially when there are no other horses close by. To resolve that difficulty, a few walks around his new neighborhood eased his horsey mind, because he could see that several other horses were only a hundred yards away but behind a raised trail that blocked his view.

The new owners are ecstatic. The children he will carry around his new environs can't wait to do their jobs. Seven year old Stephanie, a horse lover with good riding lessons under her belt, will exercise the old boy. Annika, her little sister, will throw the hay and sweet munchies into his feeder (never feed a horse from the hand because he won't know the difference between your fingers and a carrot). Danny boy couldn't wait to muck those little green apples.

Danny

  
Is this horse heaven, or what? Nine acres of pasture, an olympic size sand arena, and a real barn with a new horse buddy that will join him next week.  Time to play!

Horsing Around on the Beach

Hey, there's another trailer out here. More friends

Getting horses to play on the beach is easy when there are friends around. Riding in the sand is no problem, just heavy work.

Oxnard beach power plant

Oxnard beach at Fifth Street is still open to horses. The fencing along it protects nesting sea birds.

Checking the surf

It's time to play in the surf. Always expect the unexpected on a horse's first run on the beach. It's wise to dismount, under these brand new conditions.

I trust you. I just don't trust attack waves

When Shay hit the surf, she bounced away in the wrong direction ending up chest deep in the waves. She bounced again and decided to stand still.

Nooooo!

Regaining a hold on the reins (which I dropped when she exploded), I led her back to visit with Rhett, her best friend.

Don't leave me Rhett

Shay discovered solid ground under those waves. Not so bad after all, huh? K, Let's play in the surf.

Splish - Splash; but don't drink the water

A couple more visits and we'll be able to ride right into the water. I'll still wear my chaps for traction. I don't doubt Shay will love running in the surf soon enough.

 
Salt and sand finish and two very tired horses. Shall we do it again; have another day at the beach? 

The Pipe, continued . . .

Trip didn’t return to his duty station. He was determined to follow the aliens. Rushing down a side hall of the spaceport, he reached the exit to the city’s main road out. When he arrived at the dome’s perimeter, he realized he’d forgotten his cover sheet. He spotted the four vagrants less than a hundred yards ahead of him on the road, their black shapes distinct against the silver avenue. He hesitated following them knowing that if he went outside without his protective sheet he would risk serious injury. Besides, without it, the transparent dome’s alarm would sound as it had when the aliens had entered the city.

That’s it, he thought, the aliens had come into the city unharmed. Perhaps he would be safe for a short time. He stepped through the dome’s skin and ran to catch up.

The children heard Trip’s rapid footfalls on the road and turned to face him. “Why are you following us; don’t you have duties to attend?” asked Reema.

The older cadet sneered, “Trying to get away from us?”

“You have no business with us,” said Kraft, “If I were you, I’d get back to the city.” Kraft stared up and down the cadet’s unprotected torso.

“I have questions. Where’s the alien ship? What star system are they from?” He flicked his head in the direction of the two strangers.

The two children stared down at their feet, letting Kraft handle the questions. Since they had already reached the black upside-down tree, they knew the tunnel through the mountain lay just above them.

Reema pointed secretly to an almost invisible trail uphill. She broke a small twig from the tree and handing it to Jiro whispered, “It will open the portal.” Then she stepped between Trip and the new friends and said, “If you don’t cover quickly, Trip, you’ll die here.”

Trip still wanted answers. Kraft’s telling him that the aliens knew the sun was Alberio didn’t prove they were from the local star system. They looked alien and they weren’t telepaths. He needed more answers. “If the aliens are local, let them prove it,” he reached past Reema and grabbed Sanaa’s protective sheet.”

“Trip! What are you doing?” Reema was so distressed her telepathic shriek overcame the ultraviolet solar bombardment. Her mind screamed at the children. “Run!”

Before Trip could pull the pliable protective sheet over himself the children had disappeared up the trail. Kraft and Reema were already racing back to the city leaving Trip standing alone. He watched them disappear inside the dome, but didn’t follow. Instead, he began a search for the aliens who he knew couldn’t have gone far. He followed the road hoping that, at the bend, he would find their hidden spaceship.

But there was no spaceship. Only one of the black city ships passed overhead flying away from the dome. He retraced his steps to the black tree and began a more careful search. He circled its dark shape, fanning outward and upward, until he stumbled onto the almost invisible trail between the rocks. On one of the more jagged outcroppings he found a small scrap of red cloth. “Her shirt,” he thought. “So they came this way!”

How to Publish

Creative writing professor Carolyn See once said, “If you want to get published, you have to write a thousand words a day, every day of the week. You also must send out a letter to an editor every day of the week.”

That’s tantamount to writing 7,000 words each week, and then some, since letters to the editor will add additional verbiage. That makes for a meaty short story. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Short_story

It’s a great place to start if you are planning a novel someday, and romantic novels tend to be highly marketable.

But publishing what gets written is most difficult. That is because all publishers have specific needs, specific criteria, and specific time-lines. Word is about that if you want to publish for a magazine, read the particular magazine you wish to write for. If you want to sell a novel, find out what is on the best seller lists and read those novels.  If you are inclined toward writing for a specialized field, such as paranormal studies, do the research.

Hence, becoming a published writer is a full time job. It requires one to spend a couple of hours a day for the writing, and several more for the reading, and another few for research. If you are smart enough to begin an ongoing self promotion for your work, add weekend writer’s conferences, weekly blogs, and frequent speaking engagements on your subject.

So, is this writer published? Yes.

Was it easy?  It’s better to say it was unexpected.

Walking in on an editor isn’t the gentlest approach to getting published. It only opens the door, in this case, to Franciscan Communications.

Chief Editor Corinne said, “Can you write us a short story?”

A week later Corinne reviewed the new writer’s work and said, “It won’t do for us.”

The crestfallen author pulled a little poem out of her jeans pocket and asked, “Can you let me know what you think of this?”

Corinne looked up from the half crumpled paper and asked, “Can you give me twenty more?”

Beaming, the new writer blurted, “Sure; of course I will.”

“They don’t have to be poems. Short short’s are sufficient,” said Corinne.

Two years later Inside the Gospels hit its religious market.

From the Dome

It's nice to have a deck to sit on and stare out at the mountains opposite our property. Our deck has been sunburned and peeling for a few years. Today was paint day. It took about four hours, not counting the three days it took to bleach, wash, rinse and rewash; i.e. prep the deck.

The sun was up early, unusual for this normally misty time of year, so I said to my better half, "C'mon, let's get it over with." Out came the fifteen year old buckets of deck stain, brushes, rollers, and pans. Since we had bought oil based stain, we also dragged out the mineral spirits.

Brush and roller clean up had us busy another hour or two. We'll want to use them again to touch up and for doing the backside of the deck that we normally don't see, unless we're standing under it. We still need to clean and prep the stairway down. Maybe tomorrow . . .if we are up to it?

Comparing Saints

Last week St. Stephen of Hungary’s letter to his son was posted. Today another monarch, St. Louis of France, takes the limelight. He began his reign at the youthful age of 22. Here are his words to his son, very like to St. Stephen’s thoughts:

My dearest son, my first instruction is that you should love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your strength. Without this there is no salvation. Keep yourself from everything that you know displeases God, that is to say, from every mortal sin. You should permit yourself to be tormented by every kind of martyrdom before you would allow yourself to commit a mortal sin.

If the Lord has permitted you to have some trial, bear it willingly and with gratitude, considering that it has happened for your good and that perhaps you well deserved it. If the Lord bestows upon you any kind of prosperity, thank him humbly and see that you become no worse for it, either through vain pride or anything else, because you ought not to oppose God or offend him in the matter of his gifts.  

Be kindhearted to the poor, the unfortunate and the afflicted. Give them as much help and consolation as you can. Thank God for all the benefits he has bestowed upon you that you may be worthy to receive greater. Be just with your subjects, swaying neither to right nor left, but hold the line of justice. See that all your subjects live in justice and peace, but especially those who have ecclesiastical rank and who belong to religious orders. Be devout and obedient to our mother the Church of Rome and the Supreme Pontiff as your spiritual father. Work to remove all sin from your land, particularly blasphemies and heresies.

In conclusion, dearest son, I give you every blessing that a loving father can give a son. May the Holy Trinity and all the saints protect you from every evil, and may the Lord give you grace to do his will.