American Horse Publications is one of the best networking tools a writer or photographer can hope for if she or he hopes to work in equestrian publishing. I joined in 1992, the year I graduated summa cum laude from Johnson & Wales University with a degree in Equine Business, to complement the 1983 B.A. in English/Journalism from SUNY-Albany I had earned to satisfy my parents. They were born in Brooklyn. They didn't know anything about horses. But they indulged my inexplicable fervor for the animal and the sport.
Being a writer is not a career for the faint-hearted. Many assume, if it only takes five minutes to read something, how long can it take to write it? Writing, actually, is a lot like riding. The easier it looks, the more -- and harder -- the work has been behind it. Another professional associate in our field once coined the term, "wrider." I know what she means.
Why we write is another story. The axiom, "The pen is mightier than the sword," may sound outdated, but while the choice in our implement of communication may change, the power of words remains.
The reason I'm going to San Diego is because a handful of words I put together, into a profile on a three-time cancer survivor and her equestrian therapeutic riding program for children diagnosed with chronic and terminal disease, is a finalist at the AHP Annual Awards.
My job is a cakewalk compared to the work of Tracy Kujawa, the courageous horsewoman who created Angel Heart Farm, and who balances loving and living in every moment with a perpetual parade of farewells as her young riders leave to take wings as angels.
Her Lexington, KY, facility is called
Angel Heart Farm, (www.angelheartfarm.net), as is the feature, which was published last fall in "the official voice of the Arabian Horse industry,"
Modern Arabian Horse magazine.
I thank editor, Susan Bavaria, for the privilege to have met Tracy. Susan's editorial wisdom set in motion a chain of events that prove the pen is still mightier than the sword.
Angel Heart Farm operates on donations and the generosity of its supporters. Tracy worked for years as a stylist in the country music industry, so yes, the annual AHF fundraiser usually has a few donations from some really big names -- and obviously big hearts -- in the business. AHF needs every ounce of that support: its program will not turn anyone away, and Tracy will not only help put up families when they are in town for medical treatment, but even try to assist, if necessary, with funeral arrangements. All this, on top of the everyday operations and costs of running a farm full of Arabian horses and Welsh ponies, some of whom have their own 'special needs,' endearing them all the more to the young riders in their charge.
Because of
Modern Arabian Horse's editorial choice, and the power of its international circulation, Tracy called me just the other day to say she had met with an Arabian Horse owner and businessman from Canada interested in financing an Angel Heart Farm in his area, to help more kids and families. He had read the article and been inspired.
Earlier this spring, Tracy used the article as supporting material with a grant application to help offset program expenses, because AHF faces the same economic hurdles as anybody else.
She got the grant. It amounted to $5,000. She called me, simultaneously laughing and crying.
It won't matter Saturday night in San Diego where I ultimately finish in the awards standings.
This is why I write. Musician Robert Fripp was wont to say, "Music is the cup that holds the wine of silence." As a writer, I'm just the cup holder, letting the power of the story pour from the words.
