Bad Flight Gone Right.

I flew back from Dallas tonight. Not only was my flight delayed the minute I woke up this morning, but I landed in snow falling, and some mid-flight hell broke loose.  A calm flight suddenly and utterly briefly turbulent resulted in two very shocking things happening at once.

I had my notebook out, which will eventually be the guide to the series I’m writing. Every page is virtually full. With that in mind I had a few items that needed to be jotted down. I found one of the very few clean unused pages, began what I needed to- got two lines done, and boom plane drops, jumps, stutters, then slows. Coffee from my neighbor flies and soaks her and her friend.  I think oh (insert expletive deletive here)!

Now I’ve flown enough to realize I’ve been through way worse. It was very quick, and over by the *ding* of the seat belt sign going back on. No problem, but being so quick and obnoxious there’s that split second where you internal have to decide- should I be panicking? With a few screaming college kids you half wonder.

Still feeling a little stunned I looked down realizing I’d been directly handed a distraction, and I’d been subtly initiated. I had been inked! My pen out of nowhere started flowing, a few drops hit the page and my fingers were sticky with blackness. There was nothing wrong with my pen. It just helped me quickly forget I felt like I was falling out of the sky, and  was then suddenly very aware that I am definitely now a writer- a dirty, difficult, challenging, and emotional job. I have no doubt this story is going to be told.

I quickly snapped pictures, because, well, it felt a bit like a memory to be kept for some odd reason. It’s significant to me somehow I can’t fully wrap my mind around. It’s almost like a message being sent. I saved the napkin I used to clean the mess, and in a very egotistical and goofy manner thought how funny would it be if I succeed, to sign that napkin and send it to a fan of the book when it’s complete. Let’s face it, it’s very silly right? But no matter how hard I told myself it’s a piece of inked up napkin, I couldn’t trash it. It could be  a totem for a job well done, and a gracious thank you to the other half of the circle that is always involved in the entertainment world. 50/50 all the way between entertainer and fan.

So, I decided to add a few pics of this somehow eye-opening moment of accepting a writer- bad punctuation and grammar aside- is what I am.

Initiation remembered

Bad Flight gone right.


Bad Flight gone right.


Bad Flight gone right.

Shot of the napkin and ink-blackened fingers.

Initiated into writerhood


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