Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved stories. She especially loved stories that happened a long time ago, in a land far, far away. At first, others had to tell her the stories, but then, like magic, she learned to read them for herself out of books. And then, even more magical, she discovered that there were stories inside her that she could write down using her own words.
But just as she made this discovery, the girl came under a spell that made her believe that the only way that she could tell stories about long ago and far away was to become something called an historian. And so that is what she did. What she was not told, but had to learn for herself, was that becoming an historian meant relying more and more on facts and evidence and less and less on her own imagination, and soon the girl forgot all about the stories that had once been inside of her, waiting to be told. The girl – now a grown-up professor with a Ph.D. – wrote lots and lots of words but with less and less joy, for the stories were lost. Then one day, a special creature appeared, beckoning to the girl to leave her life in the ivory tower where she had become imprisoned. The creature came in the shape of a horse, for the girl had loved horses all of her life but never had one of her own. Realizing she wanted to be with the horse far more than she wanted to keep on being an historian, the girl fled her old life and went to live with the horse in a barn. There, little by little, the horse helped the girl to remember the stories long buried in her heart until one day, she began to write them down. And the rest is history.
When Sarah is not writing stories, she practices and teaches riding as a meditative art. She holds a Ph.D. in history from Northwestern University and spent many years as a college professor before turning full-time to riding and writing. She has two grown daughters and lives with her husband, her dogs and her horses near Boulder, CO. She is currently working on books two and three of the She Who Rides Horses trilogy.
