No, not that kind of saddle. This post doesn’t have anything to do with horses or Gene Autry. It has way more to do with writing.
But speaking of horses (were we?), the first and last saddle I ever sat my butt down upon came about over five decades ago at a honeymoon resort in the Pocono Mountains. I can’t recall if the bright idea to take a horseback ride belonged to me or my ex-wife, but in any case, I gave it a try. Bad experience. Soured me forever from climbing up on a horse. (Sorry, horse people.)
No, the allegorical title of this post has to do with the fact that I recently restarted work on a new book, one that I had begun a little over a year ago. Family health issues brought that endeavor to a screeching halt, and for a long time I feared that I would never get back to it. But I have, and I couldn’t be more pleased! The best part: my brain, which seems to be aging along with me, is still gushing with creativity, and the scenes are flowing.
No, I’m not ready to offer a reveal on the subject matter. If all goes well it should be ready by 2024. So whichever cliché you choose—“back in the saddle,” or “getting back up on the bicycle”—I’m just thrilled to be doing it!