Dear Reader,
You have eight days to finish your entry for this year’s Write a DearReader Contest. Don’t miss the deadline. So many of the entries I’ve read over the past 18 years included a note at the end of the submission: “Thank you for offering this contest to your readers. I had a lot of fun writing, and I’m so glad I entered, even if my entry isn’t chosen as one of the winners.”
Deadlines, guidelines, cash prizes (for you and your library) and past winners are at: http://www.dearreader.com/contest2022/index.html
Cherished memories make great stories and book club reader, Judi King, an Honorable Mention winner in last year's Write a DearReader Contest, shares a wonderful story. It's my pleasure to reprint her column today.
I’m waiting to read your story.
A horse.
Well, specifically, a horse and a carriage, at Blenheim Palace.
Of all the experiences that we had, all the places that we visited, a simple carriage ride was the one memory my mom relished from our trip to the British Isles.
We hadn't planned on stopping at Blenheim--it was just a spur of the moment "Oh, let's stop and look around." kind of thing. We were on our way back to London, when we saw the signs for Blenheim Palace. "Oh, should we stop?" "Yes--let's!" Giggling like schoolgirls, we pulled in the grand entrance and found a place to park. (Unlike our stop at Princess Di's home, Althorp, where we were rudely bounced from the grounds. But, I digress.)
We weren't sure where to begin exploring Blenheim, when, suddenly from around the corner, a lively and handsome driver and his majestic horse clip-clopped their way towards us. "Would you ladies like a drive around the palace grounds?" The driver, Ian, asked. He barely had the words out of his mouth when my mother swiftly claimed her spot in his carriage. I had no choice but to follow suit, although, I hate to admit, I wasn't as spry as my 51-year-old mom was!
Off we went--two American ladies pretending to be aristocratic duchesses on an afternoon drive to visit the Duke and his court. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, a rarity for English weather--the sun was out, the temperature mild, just the ideal day for a splendid carriage ride around the estate. My mother sat totally rapt as Ian pointed out the perfectly landscaped gardens, the Grand Bridge, and the Column of Victory. I would have paid Ian my whole paycheck just to have Mom spend more time perched up high on her carriage seat behind that white and black dappled horse--her face radiated pure happiness.
My mom was a child of the Depression, one of the youngest of ten, so life was a bit hard-scrabbled in those days, always making do with whatever they could find. My grandpa went town to town looking for any work they could get. I think those times they spent moving around the different farms was where my mom developed her love for horses. And for travel. When she married my dad, they traveled when they could, but with my dad helping to raise his younger siblings, plus a daughter from a previous marriage, they never did get to travel to England. Although we didn't share our feelings with words, my mom had passed on her love for all things British to me. Music and books were the things that connected us. My mom and I both plotted, planned and saved like mad to go to England. To see her getting to go to her oft-dreamed of places like William Shakespeare's home town, James Herriot's veterinary practice, Sherwood Forest, not to mention all the palaces and castles, it was touching and heartwarming. It was a fantastic trip, and while we had our ups and downs (did I mention Althorp?), we never forgot a minute of it.
I didn't realize how much our adventure had meant to her, until years later after her death, one of my aunts happened to chat with me about that trip. She said, "You know, your mom really loved going to England. That carriage ride was all she could rave about for months and months. I am so thankful you all were able to go."
My mom never told me so with words, but whenever I see a mention of Blenheim Palace, my heart bursts with those memories, knowing what that one happenchance stop-off meant to her. So if you ever get a chance to take a carriage ride with a white and black dappled horse at Blenheim Palace, give it a fond pat for my mom. She'd be beaming with joy.
-- Judi King
Honorable Mention, 2021 Write a DearReader Contest
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]
AUTHORBUZZ: Discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

TAKING THE LEAP: A River Rain Novel (Fiction) by Kristen Ashley
River Rain is back!
Sweeping from the mountains of Arizona, to parties in New York City, the next in the River Rain series, brings on one of my favorite tropes. A bashful woman who's willing to take what she can get and a good man lying to himself about his future, that future being with her. Can Alex and Rix see the possibility and take the leap? I hope you dive in and see!
Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader click on TAKING THE LEAP to read more and to email author Kristen Ashley, you'll get a reply.
This month's Penguin Classics book is Mr. President by Miguel Angel Asturias. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win
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