Press Release: The Book of Mules

The following press release may be used with my permission in your publication:

Donna Campbell Smith newest release, The Book of Mules (Lyons Press 2008) has hit the bookstore shelves just in time for the holidays. Smith launched the book’s debut with a book signing at The Coffee Hound Bookshop in downtown Louisburg, North Carolina with the cover mule, Sadie Mae, in attendance. Many of the book signing’s visitors shared their memories of having a mule on the farm when they were young. Children were allowed to pet Sadie Mae and give her special mule treats provided by owner, Shannon Hoffman. Hoffman is on the board of directors of the Carolina Mule Association.

The book is a celebration of mules, those long-eared hybrids that helped carry pioneers west, till the tobacco and cotton fields of the South, and serve in the military throughout America history. Today, they are still working hard in fields, working as pack animals, as favorite mounts for trail riders and are still used in the military. In fact, any place you find horses you are likely to find a mule whether it is it is the show arena or in the back forty.

While not a mule owner herself Smith has been involved in the horse industry for over thirty years. She interviewed mule experts from all over the country in writing this, her third book for The Lyons Press. Most of the photography is also by the author with other pictures submitted by various organizations and individuals.

The Book of Mules covers the history and origin of the mule and the care, selection, breeding and showing of mules. One chapter is devoted to festivals held across the country that celebrate the mule, an honor unique to the hybrids of the equine world. A list of resources and glossary will help readers who are new to the world of mules extend their knowledge.

Donna writes from her home in Franklinton, North Carolina. She has worked in the horse industry for over thirty years as a trainer, instructor and breeder of Arabian horses. She has an AAS Degree in Equine Technology from Martin Community College, where she also took extended courses in art and composition. She is a certified riding instructor and served many years as a Master NC 4-H Horse Program Volunteer.

Smith wrote her first non-fiction book, The Book of Miniature Horses, published by The Lyons Press three years ago, collaborating with photographer Bruce Curtis of Long Island, New York. Next, Smith both wrote and photographed The Book of Draft Horses.
In addition, Smith has two children’s historical fiction novels in print with Faithful Publishing. Pale as the Moon and An Independent Spirit are set on the Outer Banks of North Carolina and were inspired by the wild horses that have roamed free there for over 400 years. She also writes for several regional and national magazines including Our State, Carolina Country, Stable Management Magazine, USA Equestrian, Young Rider, The Chronicle of the Horse, Boys Life, and The Gaited Horse.

The Book of Mules retail 22.95
ISBN 978-1-59921-283-8
Published in 2008 by The Lyons Press, an imprint of The Globe Pequot Press

Pale as the Moon

When I was a child I was fascinated by stories about early explorers and pioneers of America. I was even more intrigued by stories about Native Americans. My obsession was probably first ignited by stories my Daddy told me that he heard from his father and grandfather. Growing up in the fifties and sixties the western genre was popular in TV shows and movies. By the time I was in the third grade I’d read everything our local library had, fiction and non-fiction, about Native Americans and the pioneer days.

While all this reading was going on I was growing up just an hour’s drive from the Outer Banks. My parents loved to fish, so we made frequent trips to the coast with that purpose. I became more infatuated with the history of the area as I grew older.

I was an adult before I made a career of horses. I had already raised three children when the opportunity came for me to enroll in the equine tech program at Martin Community College.

So, it is only natural that I combined those three loves: Native American history, the Outer Banks and Horses, when I wrote Pale as the Moon. Gray Squirrel and Heita Hoonoch are childhood playmates put in a different setting and time, but close friends all the same.

I didn’t know we had wild horses on the Outer Banks until much later in life. I hadn’t even given it much thought that people fished and lived on North Carolina’s coast eons before a white man ever set foot on our shore. I guess I learned that in elementary school when we were taught North Carolina History. It was reinforced the first time I saw the outdoor drama, “The Lost Colony.”

Forty some years later while reading Daniel Barefoot’s Touring the Backroads of north Carolina’s Upper Coast I came across a tidbit of information on page 140 that gave Pale as the Moon its conclusion. As far as I am concerned it is the logical answer to the Lost Colony mystery. In 1956, while I was voraciously reading books about Indians, artifacts of English and Native American culture were discovered near East Lake in a common mound. Forever lost to future investigation in the name of progress, the mound was covered back up and the canal digging carried on. I believe the English colony moved in with a lakeside village, but how did they find it? Someone showed them the way. Why not a young Native American girl who had become close friends with one of the English families?

So, a young Native American girl befriends a wild colt. Together, led by a series of dreams and empowered by the speed and stamina of the horse, she rescues a motley crew of English invaders. Along the way she rides like the wind with the sea spray on her face and the sea gulls laughing with glee. What an adventure, to be the first American to ride a horse. What an adventure to meet a boy her own age who sailed to America from across the vast Atlantic Ocean. Who better than a young child to realize the need for peace between two peoples whose cultures were so different.

I like to picture a much younger version of myself on vacation with her family at the Outer Banks. She sits on the cottage porch in a wooden chair, big enough to curl up in, with a book that will transport her back into a different century. She hears the whinny of a lost foal through the roar of gale force winds. She sees a vision of white sails when she glances up from her book to look across the breakers. Between the screeches of sea gulls she hears the soft voice of a Paspatank girl, just about her age. She turns the pages and joins in the celebration of the corn dance. She dreams. Her heart races with anticipation as Heita Hoonoch stretches his neck to take the ear of corn from her lap. She smells the sun and sea in his mane.

More pages turn, more adventures await. She IS Gray Squirrel. She knows the secret of the Lost Colony.

Order the book at Faithful Publishing

Writing An Independent Spirit: The Tale of Betsy Dowdy and Black Bess

I first learned the story of Betsy Dowdy when I was doing research for an article about the Corolla Wild Horses. I read about this young girl who, like Paul Revere, rode to warn, “the British are coming” in Daniel Barefoot’s book, Touring the Backroads of North Carolina’s Upper Coast.

I liked this story because it was about one of North Carolina’s many heroic women, a gutsy young woman who passionate about horses. Horses are a wonderful equalizer for girls—they give them strength, speed, and stamina; they make them taller than grownups. I see it all the time as a riding instructor—little girls who may or may not be particularly athletic gaining confidence on a horse. I want girls to know they can do anything they want to do, and if they feel passionate about something they should follow their hearts.

My connection to the Outer Banks is from having a mother who loved to fish. We lived near the coast in Plymouth, about 80 miles inland from Manteo; and made frequent fishing trips to the beach. My other connection has to do with horses. I have worked in the horse industry for over 30 years. I became interested in our Banker Ponies and wrote some articles about them. I don’t know that I have any connections to the Revolutionary War—I’m, not THAT old.

Today’s girls and boys still love horses, but most don’t have the freedom to roam and ride across country like Betsy did. As a parent I would be as disturbed as Mrs. Dowdy was in my book to think my daughter was off doing those reckless and dangerous things.

In my research at the state archives I found documentation that a Josiah O’Dowdy lived on Currituck Banks in the 1700s. He had a daughter named Betsy. We can only guess if she was the Betsy in the legend. I think most legends are based on true occurrences, although some details get changed around in the telling and retelling.

It is the desire of most teenagers to be independent. Through personal experience they learn freedom comes with a price. Even Betsy knew that before she could go ride on the beach the chores had to be done. On a larger scale she nearly paid with her own life for the freedom to keep her home and the ponies on the Currituck Banks. But, Betsy didn’t really concern herself with the revolution until it hit close to home and endangered what she held dear. I am afraid many of us are like that; we live in our own little worlds without worrying too much about what goes on somewhere else. Then we are shocked when we are threatened personally.

I wrote the book in first person, from Betsy’s view point because her name and the horse’s name were so similar that I needed to find a way to avoid the repetition. I wanted to show the mother-daughter conflict, that I was sure my readers would relate to. Mrs. Dowdy’s journal entries seemed the best way to do it. I love reading books written in that format. It’s like being naughty and reading someone’s diary. I hoped it would show readers how parents worry and scold, but all the while the motive is their love for their children.

The Banker ponies have survived for over FOUR centuries, two since Betsy’s story. The thing we can learn from Black Bess is that the horses are an important part of not just North Carolina’s heritage, but also our country’s heritage. They are worth preserving to remind us of our history. Sixty years ago the horses on the Outer Banks numbered in the thousands, now there are only about three hundred left. In the last half a century they have succumbed to disease, starvation, collisions with vehicles and, inconceivably, some horses have been shot and killed by “vandals.” If it were not by the efforts of a few citizens who love the horses like Betsy did, they would be all gone by now. So, what I hope can be learned from Black Bess is that these horses are worth saving; and what can be learned from Betsy is that one person can make a difference.

What is a Draft Horse?

What is a Draft Horse?

Plow Day

While writing The Book of Draft Horses: The Gentle Giants that Built the World, I learned draft horse owners across the country are using their gentle giants to plow and work fields, mow and rake hay, even for logging. To share memories and pass on their skills to future generations events called “plow days” are held in rural communities.

I attended a Plow Day at the Jimmy Dozier Farm in Rocky Mount, North Carolina earlier this spring. It is an event that has grown bigger every year. Not only were there several teams of draft horses and mules plowing a thirty-acre cornfield, there were other things from the “good old days” on display. An antique car show, folks making grits and cornmeal with a restored burr mill, and a display of old horse powered farming equipment was spread out over Mr. Dozier’s front yard. Hundreds of people were there to watch the horses and see the displays. Rocky the Trick Mule provided entertainment, and there was plenty of food on hand to feed the crowd.

Jimmy has four draft horses, a pair of Belgians and a pair of Spotted Draft horses, which he raised from the Belgians. With the help of his horses, Jimmy plants corn in the thirty-acre field. He also uses the horses to rake his hay fields. He is restoring a horse drawn hay mower so he can also mow it with his horses.

The plow day was attended by hundreds of spectators. Jimmy doesn’t charge anything for the folks to come watch. It’s his gift to the community, and a way to hand down old traditions to the younger generations. Young people who want to try their hand guiding the horses down the furrows get a lesson from Jimmy or one of the other team owners. There is great value in giving the older generations a place to not only show their skills, but also share their stories and reminisce with each other.

My friend and I were admiring the line of antique cars. She remembered someone in her family who had an old car like the one we were stopped next. A man overheard her and stopped to look, too. Then he told his story of how as children he and his siblings used to rider in the rumble seat of the family’s car, a Model A Ford. “Look in there. You can see it’s not a lot of room, and the one we had wasn’t that nice,” he said as my friend and I peered into the tiny back seat of the car on display. That car had been restored beautifully; its rumble seat padded and covered in fine, smooth leather. “And if it rained, then that was just to bad,” he chuckled. You could see the fond memories dancing in his eyes.

We walked back to the plowing field. I snapped more photos. There was no roar of engines, just the jingle of the harness chains and voices of the people talking and laughing as they watched the men and horses at work.

A Horse and Mule Cemetery

My friend and I picked our way over the ditch and through blackberry brambles, stepping cautiously over fallen tree trunks, and then finally onto what appeared to be an old road bed. All I could think was, “It’s warm enough for snakes and ticks.” But we were on a mission to find the mule cemetery my friend told me about months before I’d finished writing The Book of Mules: Selecting, Breeding, and Caring for Equine Hybrids (The Lyons Press to be released 2008)

We’d planned more than once to find this unusual cemetery but weather, illness, and work kept changing our plans. So, there will not be pictures of gravestones erected in honor of beloved work mules in my book. Even, so, after interviewing many retired farmers about working the land with the help of mules and horses, I was interested in seeing this proof of the value of the horse and mule to their owners before tractors came on the farm scene.

The location is just a short distance from a large apartment complex in Durham, North Carolina. Of course, until the later part of the twentieth century the land on which the apartment buildings stood was farmland. The four-lane highway we took to the site was once a dirt road. It’s all changed now.

We followed the obscure roadbed a few yards, and wondered if we’d understood the apartment manager’s directions. Then my friend caught the first glimpse of a tombstone. We went to the top of the small rise and there they were. Ten testaments to a man’s affection for the animals that helped him earn a living for his family for thirty-some years.

After we photographed each inscribed headstone, my friend asked if I’d like to meet the daughter of this man, Mr. F.H. Page, “who loved his animals so well” as he expressed on one of the monuments. Mrs. Ruth Harris is in her early eighties, and she remembers the all of horses and mules buried on that hill. She very graciously agreed to tell me about them.

Ms. Harris says Nell, the Arabian, was a buggy horse that was also a family pet. “She followed us to the fields like a dog.” Nell was even allowed a good wallow in the warm earth after it was plowed and planted, “and it was alright, because she was a pet and Daddy allowed it.”

Rose was a real working mule, and very gentle, Mrs. Harris remembers. Her oldest son, nicknamed Peppy, was especially fond of Rose and Mr. Page had written on her marker, “Pep’s Mule.” Also inscribed onto her gravestone were the words, “very good.” Mrs. Harris told us a story that showed just how good Rose was. Peppy was only about two years old when he wandered out to where Rose stood, and bite her on the leg. “Rose never moved until I got there,” she said. Rose lived to be thirty years old.

Mr. Page bought a taller monument for one horse. On it he had carved the words, “Best of All.” Dan was a bay, five-gaited saddle horse. He was used for work in the fields, but Dan had another talent. He was a racehorse, at least once a year. Mrs. Harris said her dad always raced Dan on the Fourth of July race that took place on Page Road. Yes, right there on what now is the four-lane highway I mentioned before, horses galloped full speed, helping their riders celebrate their independence. That was back when the highway was a dirt road that buggies navigated from the farm homes to town. Back when things were different. I think Mr. Page erected those monuments not only to the horses and mules that worked at his side so many years, but the ten granite stones also memorialize a time when life was harder, but perhaps a lot less hectic. I am glad my friend and I finally found the time to walk through the woods and see the “mule graveyard.”


Inscriptions on the Ten Gravestones of Horses and Mules Once Owned By Mr. Page

Prince – Trotting Horse, chestnut sorrel, white face. 1930-1945
Ted – Fast saddle horse, dark sorrel, white face. 1920-1945
Nell – Beautiful Arabian, fast driving mare, brilliant sorrel, white face, 3 white feet. 1920-1943
Star – Saddle and driving mare, chestnut, white face. 1904-1939
Dan – (taller than other stones) Best of All, 5 gaited saddle horse, bay, black mane (misspelled balck) 1910-1940. Erected by F.H. page, owner of all the animals he loved so well.
Bessie – Driving mare, brown, white face, 4 white feet. 1903-1937.
Kate- Steel gray mule, very intelligent. 1902-1930.
Lulu – Bay mule, very swift. 1902 age 28.
Maude – Brown mule. Very gentle. 1906-1939
Rose – Pep’s mule (Pep was Mr. Page’s grandson) Black mule, very good. 1916-1946.

Let Me Introduce Myself

Growing up just a few miles inland from North Carolina’s Outer Banks, in Plymouth, North Carolina on the banks of the Roanoke River, I only dreamed of having a horse when I was a little girl. I wasn’t aware that wild horses roamed free on some of the coastal islands where I loved to visit with my parents on numerous fishing trips.

Becoming a professional in the horse industry as an instructor, breeder and trainer was my training ground for writing. I have relied on my thirty years of experience with horses and children, and my lifetime fascination with the history of the Outer Banks to write two historical novels for young readers: Pale as the Moon and An Independent Spirit. I have also written three non-fiction books, The Book of Miniature Horses (Lyons Press 2005.) and The Book of Draft Horses: The Gentle Giant That Built the World, (The Lyons Press 2007), and The Book of Mules, which, will be released by Lyons Press in 2008.

In addition, I’ve done freelance writing for several regional and national magazines including Stable Management Magazine, Western Mule, The Horse, USA Equestrian, Young Rider, The Chronicle of the Horse, Boys Life, The Gaited Horse, Our State, Carolina Country, and Conquistador.

After getting an AAS Degree in Equine Technology from Martin Community College I took extended courses in art and composition. I am a certified riding instructor and have served many years as a Master NC 4-H Horse Program Volunteer. I still teach riding lessons and keep a couple of old mares. You’ll probably read more about them here. I have begun a side career as a photographer since providing the photographs for my last two non-fiction books.

I plan to share my thoughts on writing, horses, and other things here from time to time.