Start Writing…
Never have more important words been spoken (written) to me than when I sat (laid) in my hotel room bed to pen this latest Substack post. The blank page before me stating simply, “Start writing…”
Along this bumpy road there are potholes that would swallow a tank. So far I’ve avoided the big ones, but recently I’ve had a wheel stuck and it was only a few days ago that I had the revelation. To boil it down to a single word, organization. Not the kind that signs your pay check, but the Marie Kondo kind. Effective and sometimes brutal, she has a way of peeling back the unnecessary crap to get immediately at the good stuff.
So here I am, consistently out of that non-renewable resource, time. How can I get it back? Organization. Scheduling. Strict adherence. Give and take. I have a month off coming up. I believe that with organization, teamwork, and realistic scheduling I can complete False Ignition and move on the next project, Burn Condition. Yup, book Three, the beginning of which I have written and already love.
A Liar, Lawyer, Mirror show me what’s the difference? – TooL
I’ve been faced with them all recently. Banks, the landlady, lawyers and thieves. All amidst a spate of flying madness up there with the most difficult work schedule of my life. The sleep depravation has been terrible, and I can feel fatigue’s warm fingers crawling up into my brain. My thoughts slowing, the long blinks.
It’s taken me a few days to recover from this week-long Cancun pairing where I left the family for the last week while I flew Vancouver and Edmonton turns ex-Cancun.
And now we have distance between us, me in Toronto and her in Squamish, there’s a medical problem, one which I am unable to help with due to the capabilities of today’s modern airliners.
Fly By Wire
It’s been a whirlwind few weeks. We recently brought 24 crew with us down to PUJ, all of us operating different aircraft the next day. We even found a Southwest Airlines crew in our hotel. I cornered their tech crew (pilots) and managed to have a few pops with them while I peppered the captain, an ex-Air Force tanker pilot, with questions about refuelling missions in the gulf. One stuck with me. Refuelling a pair NATO F-16’s in between bombing runs, their external payloads shrinking with each sortie, only one returned. He kept asking about his wingman, who didn’t show. After refuelling the remaining F-16, his partner did show up. Bingo-fuel with holes in his tail and no more bombs on his rails, a tremor in his voice as he asked to link up for some fuel.
Frank kept cornering me throughout the night, (and indeed tonight at YYZ!) desperate for some sort of approval for his book pitch, a modern mafia thriller. I kept saying that his idea was brilliant, and to just get it down on paper. He kept asking me to write it, offering a 45% cut on the profits. I asked him about the expenses, would I only have to pay 45% as well? Negotiations are ongoing, specifically about whether it’s Two-Finger Lombardo or Three-Finger Lombardo. You be the judge.
On our way into Detroit we were cleared the Hannibal Lecter Arrival, FAAVA transition via SIZOR and HURRT. Someone out there sure had fun naming these waypoints!
“Here’s Tom With the Weather.”
Another day another 400 mile wide line of thunderstorms to navigate through. The hollow white diamonds are other aircraft, the plusses and minuses indicating how many hundreds of feet above or below us they are.
And after an 8 hour flight and dodging all that weather, we landed with low-ish fuel. Still over an hour in the tanks, but never a great feeling to be that short on go-juice.
Cuz that ain’t fuel in your tanks kid, it’s time.
Dropping Off the Kids At the Pool
I managed to get Declan inside the flight deck on the way out of Vancouver while we had a few spare minutes – I know I know, it’s the only place I can find them these days – to teach him how to turn on the fuel pumps while at the same time having a video call with my parents. When the spare time shows up, I feel the need to maximize the multi-tasking.
Part One
Let’s call this part one of the piece. I’ve got plenty more photos, and a story I’d never have been able to make up about a thief, who was also a liar, who became a criminal with evil intent. I’ll be stealing aspects of the event for a short story, the details are just that good.