Family Lines

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Tag: flying

How I wrote my book

Slave River.

Flight flying over the Slave River in Fort Smith, N.W.T.

Yes, I’m touting my book again. As an indie writer and publisher, I have too. No one else is going to promote me except me. So give me a moment to toot my own horn.

The Raven named Flight and How She Learned to Fly centres on a raven from Fort Smith, N.T., a small town that I lived in for about three years. The big birds of the North are everywhere and while they scare some people, I like them. While walking to work through the snow on dark mornings the ravens would fly just above my head. I could hear their wings go swish, swish, swish, almost like a velvet skirt rustling, as the birds rose to the sky. I wondered where they were going and what they saw when they flew around the wilderness.

Ravens are also smart and stole food from the sled dogs chained up behind various homes. I’d watch as one raven distracted a dog and then a second raven snuck behind the canine and took kibble from its bowl. The dog was none the wiser.

I came up with the idea for my book sitting in a downtown Calgary lounge while on a work assignment. I wanted to create something that everybody could read, not just adults. So I started with the idea of a little raven not wanting to learn to fly. (As a private pilot, I had to learn how to fly once but my experience is much different than my raven’s.)

At first I was photoshopping my own images and cutting and pasting ravens in the photos.

Slave River.

The photo of the Slave River used for the last illustration.

But I didn’t like the way it looked. I found illustrator Helen Monwuba and provided her with pictures from around Fort Smith. (She’s in Nigeria.) She did an excellent job bringing my Canadian ravens to life in her art from Africa.

When the story and illustrations were complete I published my book. Now comes the hard part: selling it. The ebook is the cheapest option at $4.99 and the softcover is nice too but a bit more pricy at $32. That’s because each book needs to be printed and then shipped. Don’t let that stop you though. Go get a copy!

The Raven named Flight and How She Learned to Fly

Flight is a young raven born in Fort Smith in the Northwest Territories, Canada. She loves her family and hanging out in their comfy, cozy nest. When it comes time for Flight to spread her wings, she first has to overcome her fear of flying. Thanks to her parents, she finally leaves the nest.

Print book

Blurb: http://blur.by/1zZpZdi / $32.99 CAD without shipping

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1320278310 / $28.58 US without shipping

Ebook: 4.99 CAD

Blurb: http://store.blurb.ca/ebooks/p43a9f931da2cda4398e5

Apple iBookstore: http://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/id950045042

 

Over and out: Waterville Airport

People in an airplane.

Taking my family for a flight at the Waterville Airport, NS.

A tiny airport in Nova Scotia is closing and for many of you reading this blog it won’t mean a thing. But for me, it’s where I first learned to check the oil, feel the wings for dents and bruises, kick the tires and then…fly.

The Waterville/Kings County Municipal Airport has been operating since the late 1970s. The aerodrome is in a nice little spot with its runway right in the middle of the Annapolis Valley. Sometimes the high hills (or North and South Mountain as Bluenosers call them) capture the fog and keep it prisoner in the early morning. Eventually it escapes and seeks refuge in the Bay of Fundy, sitting just over North Mountain. A few years ago I got stuck in the air in that dawn summer mist but that’s another story. For now, I’ll let other memories soar.

A few years ago, in the beginning of this millennium, I moved back to Nova Scotia from Alberta to become a pilot. I had been working as a journalist at a television station and needed a change. (TV isn’t the glamorous job you think it is.) Since I was young, I had always wanted to fly. When I was seven I saw my uncle’s airplane parked at his Winnipeg house and that was that. I wanted to go up in the air.

Learning to fly was cheaper in Nova Scotia, half the cost of Calgary. I moved back in with my parents and got a job at one of the two flight schools at Waterville. I become a part-time receptionist and hired hand helping out with planes.

I spent hours at the flight centre and often had two lessons a day. My very first flight was on a sunny spring day. My instructor Mark and I squeezed into the cockpit of a two-seater Cessna 150, XBR (or X-Ray Bravo Romeo). There was almost no room to move in the 150 but as we rolled onto the runway, it didn’t seem to matter.

Cessna 150.

The first airplane I flew – Cessna 150 XBR – at the Waterville Airport, NS.

Mark took the Cessna up into the air and as soon as we were levelled off – he handed me the wheel.

“You have control,” he said.

“I have control,” I said and pointed the red striped plane north. I flew us to the training area near the house where I grew up. Once I spotted it, a green roof sticking out of the brown forest, I circled a few times, looking almost right into my bedroom. It was a strange thought that, just an hour ago, I was in that room. Bound to the floor. Now here I was, in the air, hanging over my home.

I flew back to Waterville, picking out the runway with ease. It’s right beside the extra-large Michelin tire plant, which is why the airport is now relocating as the factory is expanding. I didn’t land the plane that first flying lesson, Mark did that. Landing for me would come later and I would only learn after a few “crash landings.”

Flying for me wasn’t about the freedom I hear many other pilots describe. It wasn’t about being higher than the ravens and the hawks and the eagles. It wasn’t about escaping earth. For me it was about fulfilling a life time goal. It was about doing something I aspired to do and never thought I would ever have the chance. Getting my private pilot’s licence meant the future was wide open and I could do anything I wanted.

During the year I was learning to fly, 9/11 happened. The airline industry faltered and it was hard for people to find flying jobs. Since then I’ve been taking a few commercial training flights even though it’s expensive and time-consuming. One day I would like to complete that goal too. One day.

With the closure of the Waterville Airport comes the end of flying lessons, parachute courses, ground school and many other things connected to aviation. But it’s not the end of the memories of taking off runway 28 and shooting straight into the sky, a blue sky when the weather is perfect.

“I have control.”

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