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Ever since I was a child, I have been envious of birds. Taking flight by simply flapping appendages seems like such a wonderous ability. So, when I had the chance to learn how to fly, I jumped right on it!

It was a dream come true. As a pilot, I have spent several hours crisscrossing the skies, whether for lessons or pleasure.

While it may seem as though flying and writing have nothing in common, that is not the case. The principles that keep me aloft in the air have also kept me grounded as an author.

Planning the Journey

There’s a common adage in aviation: “It’s better to be on the ground wishing you were in the air than being up there and wishing you were on the ground.” These words of caution speak to the importance of planning before pushing in the throttle and pulling on the stick at takeoff speed.

Weather is analyzed to anticipate the mood of the skies—will it be calm and clear or turbulent and stormy? Much like my state of mind. Some days, the words flow like steady tailwinds, while headwinds impede progress on other days with doubts and distractions. The route and terrain along the flight are akin to the story I’m writing. Is it a straightforward journey with prominent landmarks, or will I be navigating through uncharted territories? And then there’s the aircraft and its performance characteristics, an appropriate surrogate for my capabilities. Just like understanding a plane and operating within its limitations is crucial for a safe and successful flight, I need to be cognizant of my capabilities with writing, allowing me to push my creativity on some days while throttling back on others and letting the words come at their own pace.

Small Deviations, Big Consequences

One of the key lessons you learn in ground school is that even a tiny heading change can lead to large course deviations over time. For long journeys, veer off course just by a degree, and you could be miles away from your intended destination.

When it comes to writing, I find myself frequently applying this lesson, especially when I try to downplay missed goals. While a few skipped sessions here and there may not seem like a big deal, my overall goals can feel insurmountable when skipped sessions become numerous.

What works in flying works marvelously in writing as well: staying vigilant and making regular course corrections. Consistency and attention to detail are the keys to ensuring that my story, just like a flight, ends up where I want it to.

Always Have a Contingency

You always fly with a backup plan. Period. The weather might turn, or the destination airport might become unavailable. That’s why pilots plan alternate airports and carry extra fuel. This can seem paranoid for the uninitiated, but it’s less about expecting things to go awry and more about being ready if they do.

Similarly, writing can benefit from accounting for possible disruptions, as sessions don’t always go as planned. I’ve had days where I’m more in touch with my blinking cursor than my story. Sometimes, I tend to tunnel vision into minutia that has no significance to what I’m trying to accomplish. This is where contingencies, like editing or brainstorming other scenes, come in handy, much like the alternate airport.

Keep Calm, and Don’t Panic

As part of my training to become an instructor, I had to get “Spin” certified. It is one of the most thrilling—and somewhat nerve-wracking—moments in any pilot’s journey. The airplane is pitched up to the point of stall, and when it does, the pilot applies full rudder in the direction they want to spin. The result: the airplane abruptly noses down, spinning uncontrolled, thrusting you into disorientation as the ground comes rushing toward you!

But, as Douglas Adams penned in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, “Don’t Panic.” Spin recovery can be realized through the simple procedure called PARE: Power to idle, Ailerons neutral, Rudder full and opposite, Elevator forward.

A spinning aircraft is quite analogous to the creative spins I sometimes find myself in. When my characters feel lifeless or the plot has hit a wall, I think back to PARE. I reduce my power by stepping back, keep my ailerons neutral by refraining from overcorrection, then apply opposite rudder and forward elevator by identifying and tackling the core issue. Writing, like flying, can benefit from trusting the process and, more importantly, staying calm.

Enjoy the Ride

Most of us step into a plane, fighting the crowds at airports, as a means to get somewhere. For me, flying isn’t just about reaching a destination. It’s about the journey, the thrill of being in the air … a quiet triumph over birds. At thousands of feet up, with the earth below and infinite skies ahead, I often remind myself to take it all in.

Writing a story is no different. Pressures like meeting deadlines or searching for the perfect word to craft that ideal sentence sometimes obscure the satisfaction inherent in the process itself. That’s why it’s so important to take a minute to enjoy the smaller moments, like when a character’s voice comes alive or when a plot issue is resolved.

To Sum It All Up…

Flying has taught me some valuable lessons that influence my writing. It has taught me to plan, execute, and embrace the highs and lows. Whether using stick and rudder, or keyboard and mouse (and sometimes even paper and pen), the key to success isn’t just about crossing the finish line but rather about enjoying every moment along the way.