All Quiet in the Ready Room

A funny thing happened yesterday:  I left work early to take care of some business, I stopped to have a nice dinner, the first in a few weeks, and then I came home kinda buzzed from a couple of beers and started writing.  It was early for me, maybe five-thirty, but I got right into the word making.

I felt pretty relaxed, too, though that could have been the booze talking.  Or it could be I’m in a good part of the story and having fun.

I’m in the ready room at my flight school, and I’ve thirty-two students dressed like tiny World War II pilots, all pretty much wondering what the hell they’ve gotten themselves into.  The instructor is trying to set their minds at easy by–well, I’ll let her tell you:

 

“My name is Victoria Salomon, though most people call me Vicky, with a ‘y’. I’m a graduate of this school and a member of Bloeddewedd Coven. I’m forty-two and I have a birthday coming up in a couple of months. I’m on my second marriage, and I have two children, a boy and a girl—one from each husband. I don’t expect any more of either.” There were a few chuckles from the children, which was more than she expected: normally they were afraid to do anything with that comment but stare.

“I grew up in Portland, Oregon. In case anyone is interested . . .” She reached inside her thermal top and revealed the Star of David pendent on the chain around her neck. “My parents were Jewish, and I was raised in the faith. I still consider myself a practicing Jew, though I’m far from Orthodox, or even Reform. Which is to say, if you need to get in touch with me on a Friday night I can be found, and I’ve even been known to enjoy bacon now and then.

“After I graduated from here I got into racing. The Foundation maintains several PAV racing leagues, and that was where I went. I’ve flown three different classes of PAVs in four different leagues over thirteen years. Most of what I did was road courses and cross country rally racing, though I have been on a few of the more well-known race course throughout the world. I’ve won a lot of racing, and I won four championships, including one world championship.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “I’m rather proud of that last one.

“So why am I telling you this? Because I once sat where you’re sitting. And, I’m not a Legacy.” She let a low rumble of thunder pass before continuing. “I wasn’t even a good pilot my first year. If it weren’t for my instructor bending a few rules, and my father buying me a broom and sending me off to a summer camp, who knows if I would have done as well as I did.”

Vicky rested her hands on the podium and relaxed. “Each of you has the same opportunity as me: you’ve never been on a PAV, you’re wondering how you’re going to do it, and you’re nervous as hell.” She was once more interrupted by thunder, which made her turn towards the windows on her left. “You also have to deal with this stuff outside . . .” She shook her head. “It’s enough to want to set you off flying before you get started.” She chuckled, noticing that none of the students joined her. Yeah, nervous bunch here. Better get their minds on something else . . .

 

Did I mention the storm going on outside?  Yeah, I think I have.

There are two sub-scenes for the Flight School, and I’ll probably start on the first one tonight.  This is by far one of my longest section, probably bigger than the plane ride, though I would have to check that.  And I still have the rest of the week to write out.

I have figured out where I’m going to end this part of the story and turn it into it’s own book.  Considering I crossed the seventy thousand word threshold last night, it makes sense to turn the story of their first year at school into something with more than one volume.

I just hope the other books are this long.

Yeah, sure I do.