11 September 2008 – The Chuck

This is a tough day.  None of us living today will forget 11 September 2001 (a.k.a. 9/11) nor should we.  Here’s a link for those wanting a memory jolt.

Speaking of memory jolts.  A B-52 warrior passed me some of the last pictures of Balls-34 (60-034).  It was taken to final parking at the Bone Yard back on 14 Aug.



Wisdom is acquired through experience.   More often than not, wisdom is obtained through mistakes rather than through  well-executed, perfect plans.  We’ve all become the wiser when we’ve discovered the stove was hot, a bee stings, ice-covered steps are slick, the dog bites, not everyone is your friend, and good intentions only carry you so far.

Some of us have learned that min-fuel really means min-fuel, there’s a good reason we don’t do overheads in a Buff, and if you can finish your Air Force career without being passed-over or fired–you weren’t just lucky–you had very some powerful friends.

I’m glad that along the way I’ve had friends like you to fly, fight, and win with.  Today I fight more with getting my belt buckled, shoes tied, and finding time to write.

Writing a novel is different from writing doctrine, Combat Crew articles, or even telling a story.  I discovered that my skills were woefully under-developed–so I’m still working on them.

I’m taking an advanced writers course with a talented, local writer (Connie Cox) and it helps.  Here’s a quick story before I end this short post.

Two nights ago, Connie gave our small group some advanced tactics of word-smithing.  I applied it to the first page of my manuscript–keep in mind that this is my 25th rewrite and two rewrites ago I won third prize in the Amazon dot com Break Through Novel Award– when I was done I had 13 edits to the first 12 lines of my novel.

I’m just an old crew dawg learning new tricks everyday.

Eventually I’ll have something to interest an editor.

I hope to have my first novel published before I make my way to the Bone-Yard for old bomber pilots.  I’m thinking 2009 is going to be a very special year–lipstick or not.

What say ye?

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