P. S. Nolf
Bewildering Stories biography
It’s all the fault of my parents who never got me a pony. When I turned fifty, I finally figured out that Santa was never giving me a pony. So I found my own, a chestnut Icelandic Horse whose registered name, Veigar frá Búðardal, is resplendent and unpronounceable. Fortunately, he responds to his barn name, Blessi.
In Greek mythology, Pegasus was the horse of the Muses. Why can’t a horse be a muse for a modern writer? I started writing cute pony stories like “Blessi’s Bad Hair Day” and “Mittens, the Cat Who Wanted to Learn How to Ride.”
My article topics expanded to the history and health of horses, some of which have been published in multiple national magazines and even translated such as “Qu’est-ce Que L’Éparvin” in Les Crinières Islandaises. Writing non-fiction led to writing fiction. Somehow I’ve managed to include horses in just about everything I write.
Currently I am writing a narrative non-fiction book titled “Raising Rough Riders in the White House: Theodore Roosevelt, His Youngest Sons, and their Pony Algonquin.” Yes, Algonquin, the only equine to ride in the White House elevator, may have been part Icelandic.
Still pony crazy after all these years.
Copyright © 2019 by P. S. Nolf
