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    Season of Ponies
    Season of Ponies
    Season of Ponies
    Ebook108 pages1 hour

    Season of Ponies

    By Zilpha Keatley Snyder

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    The first novel from three-time Newbery Honor–winning writer Zilpha Keatley Snyder’s: a mystical fairytale about a girl, a magic amulet, and one unforgettable summer
    Life is difficult for Pamela. She usually lives with her two aunts because her father is always traveling for work. But this summer, Pamela’s  father has promised to take her away with him. On the day of their departure, however, he breaks his promise. Instead, he leaves Pamela an amulet engraved with mysterious lettering that he claims has magical properties. Pamela is skeptical, but things change quickly when the necklace summons a rainbow-colored herd of ponies. With them is a wild boy known only as Ponyboy, who lives with ponies and charms them. What was once destined to be the most boring summer imaginable becomes one that Pamela will never forget. This ebook features an extended biography of Zilpha Keatley Snyder.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Media
    Release dateDec 4, 2012
    ISBN9781453271957
    Season of Ponies
    Author

    Zilpha Keatley Snyder

    Zilpha Keatley Snyder is the author of The Egypt Game, The Headless Cupid, and The Witches of Worm, all Newbery Honor Books. Her most recent books include The Treasures of Weatherby, The Bronze Pen, William S. and the Great Escape, and William’s Midsummer Dreams. She lives in Mill Valley, California. Visit her at ZKSnyder.com.

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    Reviews for Season of Ponies

    3.5/5

    26 ratings3 reviews

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    • 3/5
      Pamela, the young protagonist of this first Zilpha Keatley Snyder book, is bitterly disappointed when her traveling salesman father deposits her in the care of her aunts at Oak Farm. Her expectations of a dull summer are happily unfulfilled however, when the magic amulet that once belonged to her maternal grandmother summons Ponyboy, a wild, fairy-like boy, and his herd of pastel ponies.This charming debut novel marked the beginning of a long and successful career for Snyder, who has been a runner-up three times for the Newbery Medal. It is set, like almost all of Snyder's stories, in her native California, and introduces the reader to her uniquely powerful conception of magic, in which the imagination itself plays such a crucial role. It is illustrated by the wonderful Alton Raible, with whom Snyder had a long-standing professional partnership (much like Ruth M. Arthur and Margery Gill). Snyder was one of my "kiddie-lit" projects for 2006, and this initial title provided a very good beginning...
    • 4/5
      "Season of Ponies" isn't so much interesting as a book on its own as it is an indicator of Snyder's later work. So many of her persistent themes are already apparent: a young protagonist, trapped in a lonely old house with a curt authority figure and distant or absent parents; a direct use of imagination and imaginative play to help the protagonist grow; the mysterious play-partner; and, finally, a question of "What *is* real?" There are direct correlations to be made with "The Egypt Game" (one chapter is even called "The Circus Game") and, even more, "The Changeling." There are even links to Snyder's most recent work, "The Treasures of Weatherby" - over four decades later.That's not to say "Season of Ponies" doesn't have an interesting story; any 8-year-old horse lover will adore the simple tale of Pamela's summer with her mysterious friend Ponyboy (a name that dates the book more than anything else). Fans expecting a deeper and more developed Snyder book might be disappointed, though; the chapters here are short and to the point, with prose that, while never condescending, never quite excites, either. This is very much Snyder-in-progress, and in many ways feels more like an expanded short story than anything novel-length.Overall, though, Snyder's first book is a success; you can see why she was immediately successful as a children's writer and manages to remain readable to this day. Even the Alton Raible illustrations, so common to many of her books, are present here and quite enjoyable (being rather more cartoony than in later stories). Any Zilpha Keatley Snyder fan should hunt this one down, just to see how "Season of Ponies" sparked off a whole career of quality children's books.
    • 5/5
      A wonderful book for children about longing, mystery, adventure, love and ponies.

    Book preview

    Season of Ponies - Zilpha Keatley Snyder

    Season of Ponies

    Zilpha Keatley Snyder

    TO Susan AND Douglas

    Contents

    A Morning of Hope

    An Afternoon of Sorrow

    A Magic Evening

    Pamela Makes a Choice

    A Warning

    A Pale Pink Clue

    In a Forest Clearing

    A Glimpse of Fear

    On a Stormy Night

    In the Old Granary

    Shadow Glen

    Fear Comes Closer

    A Puzzling Surprise

    The Circus Game

    In the Pig Woman’s Swamp

    The Pig Woman

    Back to Oak Farm

    An Unexpected Visitor

    Old Questions Answered

    Endings and Beginnings

    A Biography of Zilpha K. Snyder

    A Morning of Hope

    THE DAY BEGAN AS June days are supposed to, in a burst of sunshine; but before noon, dark clouds were sweeping across the sky. In the afternoon, rain fell in dull gray torrents; and just before nightfall, a strange swirling ground fog, heavy and white, swept through the valley. Afterward, Pamela heard Aunt Sarah say she’d never seen fog like that in the valley before.

    It started out to be the day that Pamela was to leave Oak Farm. When she awoke that morning, even the weather seemed to be celebrating. A few bright rays of sun had somehow managed to slip through the thick branches that hovered over the old house, and then to find the tall narrow windows of Pamela’s room. Bright cheerful splotches warmed the faded rug and the dark wood of the high old bed.

    Pamela bounced to the floor and ran to the window seat. From her window on the second floor, she could see the huge sloping lawn edged with oak trees, the creek, the bridge and patches of the road. To the left she could see a part of the deserted farmyard. It all looked much better than usual in the bright new sunshine of that very important morning.

    It was a view Pamela had seen thousands of times in the last five years. She turned away from the window and faced the room. Her feet touched the floor below the window seat now. When she had first come to live at Oak Farm, she couldn’t even touch with her toes. She had sat there on the window seat for hours watching the road and looking for Father. She didn’t do that any more. He always wrote when he was coming, and there wasn’t any use hoping he’d come unexpectedly.

    It had been a long time since that first year at Oak Farm, but Pamela could remember a time before that when she had lived with her father. When she thought hard, she could bring back blurry pictures of long rides in trains and cars, rooms where they didn’t stay long, and laughter and good times. There were dim memories, too, of long lonely hours of waiting in the car while her father talked to people who wanted to buy the trucks and machinery he sold. But the clearest memories were good ones. There had been picnics and trips to parks and zoos. She could remember how sometimes Father used to say, Today is for you, Pam. What shall we do? Pamela remembered that even then she usually chose to go where there were horses, if she could.

    And before that, there had been another time when her mother was still alive. That was hardly a memory at all, mostly a feeling. A good feeling—and there was something about her mother in a filmy white dress, sitting on a white horse. It was a dim and shadowy memory, almost like a scene from a dream; but still it was the clearest memory Pamela had of her mother, and she often thought about it. Sometimes she wondered if it was a real memory at all. Perhaps it was just a dream. After all, riding a white horse in a fluffy white dress was not the sort of thing people’s mothers were likely to do. Not any mothers she’d ever heard of anyway.

    She would have liked to ask about that memory, but she knew better than to ask Aunt Sarah or Aunt Elsie. She had learned long ago that no one at Oak Farm would talk about her mother. Even Father said very little.

    Pamela decided to think about something else. It always made her unhappy to wonder why people didn’t want to talk about her mother. No, I won’t think about it, she said right out loud. But still, she wondered if Father would tell about her, if she asked, before he left.

    Before he leaves! Pamela laughed. For a minute she had almost forgotten that she was going with him this time. Imagine forgetting that—even for a minute!

    Just then the hall clock struck eight. Pamela leaped off the window seat, scrambled into her clothes, and quickly brushed and braided her long dark hair. Even if it were her last day at Oak Farm, there was no point in making Aunt Sarah angry by being late to breakfast. In fact, today would be particularly bad because it was very possible that Aunt Sarah would already be angry about Father’s decision. No sense in making it worse.

    As Pamela pushed open the big double doors to the dining room, Aunt Sarah and Father were standing by the windows. Aunt Sarah was talking, and Father seemed to be looking at his shoes. They saw her and stopped talking quickly. Pamela suddenly felt afraid, but Father’s smiling, Good morning, Pam, was reassuring.

    Pamela smiled back a little weakly. It must be all right, she told herself. He promised I could go. But somehow she wasn’t quite convinced. There was something about the way Father looked.

    Aunt Elsie backed through the swinging doors from the kitchen with a silver tray, and Pamela was busy for a while helping to distribute plates and pour coffee. Aunt Sarah was talking about places Father would be visiting on his trip. Pamela found it hard to keep her mind on what she was doing. Surely something would be said about her going, too.

    Pamela, Aunt Sarah said sharply. What are you thinking of? You served your father’s plate from the wrong side, and now you’ve spilled the coffee.

    I’m sorry, Aunt Sarah, Pamela said. I’ll clean it up. She hurried to the kitchen for a cloth for the spilled coffee; and when she returned, Father’s trip was no longer being discussed.

    All through breakfast Pamela waited for the grownups to bring up the one thing that filled her mind. But Aunt Sarah began talking about old days at Oak Farm, and that always went on for a long time. Pamela couldn’t change the subject because Aunt Sarah believed that children should not speak unless spoken to.

    It began to look as if no one else was going to change the subject either. Father and Aunt Elsie were listening politely and even asking questions, just as if they had never heard about the garden parties before.

    Let’s see. That must have been the year the summer house burned down, wasn’t it Elsie? Aunt Sarah was saying. I don’t suppose you remember the summer house burning, do you Randall? You were quite young. I was only seventeen that summer. You know it was Thayer Ashwood who tipped over the charcoal brazier—quite accidently, of course—right in the midst of one of the nicest garden parties. You do remember Thayer, don’t you? He was such a nice young man. The Ashwoods lived two miles down the valley where those Italian dirt farmers are now. It was called Ashwood Park then.

    Father shook his head. No, I’m afraid I don’t remember, he said. But I’ve heard so much about it all, it seems as if I do.

    Pamela sighed quietly. She’d heard about it, too. She’d

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