About - Equine on the Mind

THE OFFICIAL BIO

Between hanging out in the Midwest backwoods in a trench coat and brainstorming new book ideas through her eclectic music tastes, Allie Lynn has won the 2023 ACFW First Impressions contest in the YA genre category, placed finalist in the 2024 ACFW Genesis contest, published with Havok and the American Poultry Association, and has completed four full-length novels and twenty-one novellas. While most of them will hopefully never see the light of day, that doesn’t stop her from working towards publishing and a future as a part-time author. When not writing, she can be found scrounging around the horse nonfiction in the library, seeking the next opportunity to ride, and hanging out with her family and farm animals.

THE NOT OFFICIAL BIO

In the middle of walking around in something known to all as “the internet”, you stumble upon a forest lightly shaded in… purple. Curious, you walk on, and then suddenly find yourself running into the side of a coppery-red horse with a wheat-gold mane.

You almost fall, but a hand from atop the horse– a rider– catches your arm before you fall.

“You okay?” she asks. “Sorry. This place kinda sneaks up on you a bit. Didn’t mean to scare you. Are you lost?”

You explain you were merely looking around. Now that you know there is someone else here, you note that she’s a young woman, not so far off from childhood to forget her youth. Her dark blond hair brushes her shoulders, her blue eyes are a mix of concern and cheerful friendliness, and there is a cream-colored guinea pig of all things perched on her shoulder.

“Well it’s nice to meet you! Thanks for coming.” She glances over her shoulder at a gap in the forest. “Would you like to come back to the homestead? Getting stuck in a rabbit hole makes you thirsty.”

She moves the horse over to a log, offers a hand, and you take it, mounting up onto the horse behind her. As you trot gently along the path, she guides the horse and asks you questions at the same time. In the middle of the small talk, you ask her what the horse and guinea pig’s names are, and whether they are real– in the internet world, one can never tell.

“Oh!” She pats the horse’s neck. “This is Courage. She’s been in a few of my stories. She’s not real, I’m afraid.” A somber, wistful look crosses her face. “I haven’t actually ridden a horse for a long time.”

You ask her why.

“Lack of time and money.” She weaves her fingers through Courage’s mane. “I’ve been horse crazy for the longest time but finances and time are two costs I can’t afford to pay right now… but someday… someday.”

“What about the guinea pig?” you ask.

“Sugar? Oh, she was real. She died a few years ago. She was my first online profile picture so I like to include her into my profile pictures in memory of her.”

You come out of the forest to a little log cabin in the woods. You note, with some amusement, the many portals scattered around the property– doors to other worlds, no doubt. There’s a barn and lots of horses in the pasture– some of them even have wings.

“Welcome to my version of the wood between worlds!” The girl flings her arms wide, almost hitting you in the face. She flushes. “Oh my word, I’m so sorry. I should look where I’m going when I do that…”

She leads Courage to the front porch and jumps off, waving at you. “Come in, come in! If you could ignore the mess, that would be good… I am not the most organized person…”

You slide off the horse and tentatively follow her inside. She wasn’t wrong when she said it was chaotic. There are papers and notebooks and books stacked everywhere. Corkboards cover the walls with character art and scrawled notes. The main room is very large, but there are other halls and doors to other rooms that are color coded; red, orange, cyan, gold, deep blue–

“Those are my fandoms! Or… fandom rooms? I like a lot of authors so I had to color code things to keep it all organized.” She waves you into the kitchen. “In here! There’s fresh coffee. How do you like your coffee? Or do you prefer hot chocolate or tea?”

You tell her and within ten minutes you’re both sipping your drinks on the back porch, watching the horses in the fields. You ask about the portals, the doors, her stories, everything that intrigues you. She talks a little fast and she can’t seem to sit still but you decide she is a fairly friendly person.

Now that you’re close to her, you can’t help but notice the scars. Jagged white marks that circle her wrists and sprawl up from the left side of her chest, up to her collarbone and neck.

After all your other questions are exhausted, you nervously ask about the scars, unsure how she’ll answer.

To your surprise, she doesn’t seem terribly bothered. “If you were to meet me in real life, you wouldn’t see these scars,” she admits. “I’ve… faced a lot of hard things. A lot of dark things. Things that give you scars you don’t see in the physical. But,” she nods to the portals. “That’s why I write the stories I do. Stories about scarred characters who face really hard things. I’ve stared into darkness and I’ve overcome it and I want to write stories about character who do the same thing. Even if they’re really hard things to read. Of course, not all my stories have dark things, but a lot of them do. It’s just the kind of tales that God has called me to write. I hope you understand that. There’s always hope though. Always” She sips her coffee for a second, then chokes a little on it and smacks herself in the forehead. “Oh my cheesecake, I haven’t even told you my name! I’m Allie Lynn. What’s yours?”

You tell her and she grins.

“Well, let me officially welcome you to my little corner of the internet.”