Posted by: Betsy Devany | July 9, 2010

The Stable

One of the things that I live for are those moments of surprise. Moments you don’t anticipate. Moments which take your breath away. For me, this week, it involved a stable. And a horse. And a bale of hay on which I sat on a warm day in Boise, Idaho.

I have spent the last five weeks revising a novel, trying to finish a second novel, attending SCBWI conferences, and working on a web site for the toy store where I work.( I had the pleasure of doing the photography for the site.) While I reminded myself to do my weekly blog, the days and weeks passed by so quickly, I soon discovered that over a month had gone by. I had hoped to slip back into a routine of blogging, but after three days, I had ten drafts. None of which were complete.

And then one of my niece’s needed to be taken to her horseback riding lesson at a farm, where not only twenty horses lived, but also sheep, llamas, chickens, goats, ducks, and a stray turkey. After the class practiced in the ring, they set out to ride at the base of the mountains, and any waiting parents retired to their car. With a camera by my side, and the exquisite landscape before me, I had no desire to follow suit. Instead, I followed the baby lambs, visited the turkey, and when the sun became too unbearable,  I headed to the stable to escape the heat. Except for the occasional rooster crow, the building was quiet, the temperature cool, and the thoroughbred spotted horse captured my attention, as well as my heart.

I never go anywhere without a notebook and pen, and so I sat on two bales of hay, which pushed against the stall of a brown horse. (Before my sister retired to the loft above to rest, I snapped a picture of her sitting at the same spot.) I leaned against the wooden planks, while the horse nuzzled my head. I expected the pen to dangle from my fingers. I expected to be stuck, but then I looked at the door at the end of the stable, and inspiration poured in like the sun peeking through the stable doors. Pen to paper, I wrote, finding the voice of one of my characters who has eluded me in the past week. I saw the stable as she did. In the moment.  Breaking only to shoot pictures of the two horses, I completed four pages by hand, and not once, did I miss having my computer. 

When I return to Connecticut, I will carry these memories with me, as well as the inspiration, and the honor of having been in the presence of such magnificent creatures.


  1. Thanks for sending this to me, Beautiful writing, thinking, photography. It was woinderful to share this journey. Grateful thanks, Dad

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