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Pulling ideas out of the air
Me and Swee'pea taking off
You may wonder what flying has to do with writing. In my case, it has everything to do with it.
Several years ago I began writing my first book for adults, a murder mystery called DEATH OVER EASY. I came up with a good plot and a few quirky characters. All of a sudden three pilots appeared in the story. They were my main character's uncles, and they just showed up at dinner and refused to leave. Then I realized there was going to be a dramatic chase scene in the sky. Now I had a dilemma. I didn't know a thing about airplanes nor did I know a single pilot. How could I write such a scene convincingly? I tried to write the pilots out of the story. They wouldn't budge. One of them--Uncle Ned, and I can see him to this day--stood jauntily in the archway to the dining room, toothpick in his mouth, staring at me, daring me to kick him out. It wasn't happening. I asked around. I made some phone calls. One thing led to another and I was put in touch with Michael Mancuso, a famous airshow pilot who lives in my area. He agreed to talk to me, and I drove over to Brookhaven Airport, which I had never even heard of before, to meet him. Before I went, one of my coworkers agreed to go up for a ride with him and come down and tell me what it was like so I could write about it. No way was I stepping inside an airplane that was smaller than my bathroom and could flip upside down. To make a long story short, after I talked to him, he asked if I wanted to see his plane (an Extra 300L), I agreed, and bam, it was love at first sight. I asked him to take me for a ride, he did, and two weeks later I put down the novel and started flying lessons. I earned my private pilot's certificate about a year later, on July 16, 2004, flying a Cessna Skyhawk. After that I had ten months of dual aerobatic instruction in a wonderful tailwheel plane called a Super Decathlon. I received my tailwheel endorsement and learned basic maneuvers such as aileron and slow rolls, inverted and knife-edge flight, spins, loops, steep turns, hammerheads, you name it. Wonderful stuff. My next step was to purchase my own airplane in August 2005. That was Swee'pea, a 1966 Piper Cherokee 140 with a manual flap lever and crank trim. She was a loveable pup who tugged at her tiedown ropes and wagged her tail when she saw me coming across the ramp to fly her. On cold, clear winter days she practically jumped into the sky. She flew me to Martha's Vineyard, Block Island, Newport RI, New Bedford MA, Hartford CT, Poughkeepsie NY, Cape May NJ, Lancaster PA, and up and down the Hudson River at a thousand feet, alongside the skyscrapers and past the Statue of Liberty. Although Swee'pea is no longer mine, I treasure the memories of my many flights at her controls. BFF. Oh, and by the way, my research paid off. I was able to write that flying scene. :)
Swee'pea at Sunset
For more wondrous writing-research serendipity, consult my blog, The Writer's Armchair, preferably with a cup of tea in hand.
Copyright © Toby Speed 2010. All rights reserved. |
The airplane that started it all
Getting ready for my flight in the Extra
Instrument panel on the Extra
The Skyhawk I learned to fly in
Instrument panel on the Skyhawk
Montauk Lighthouse from the air
The Super Decathlon in a rare upright pose
Instrument panel on the Super Decathlon
A DeHavilland Chipmunk owned by a friend, built in England in the 1930s
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