( continues...) got extra altitude, instead of using spoilers I'm going to keep turning, do a three-sixty, that'll give 'em some time to clear the landing area." Okay, unexpected, but still safe. I said nothing. This was turning into a more challenging test than I had planned, but that was all to the good.
As we kept turning we were still in lift, still climbing despite maintaining the extra speed required when preparing to land a sailplane. I'm sure Leonard had noticed it earlier, just as I had, but now he commented on it, "Hah, we're two hundred feet above release. Continuing the turn, let's see how traffic is doing down there...still jammed up, traffic in the grass, glider turning final for the runway, let's do another turn." Thirty seconds later: "Still climbing...this is good lift...Tow One has landed...we're high enough to make the standard traffic pattern now...there's Tow Two, coming our way, still below. Let's do another turn...."
As we climbed above the traffic pattern Leonard retracted the landing gear and slowed to thermalling speed. We were going up at seven hundred feet per minute, and other sailplanes came cruising in to join us in the thermal we were marking.
The "simulated rope break" that should have been a five minute flight turned into an hour's excursion half-way to Pikes Peak and back, with three climbs to six thousand feet above the ground and a lesson for me in cross-country soaring techniques that money couldn't have bought.
As we did the post-flight discussion and paperwork, I ribbed him a bit. "Leonard, I dunno if I can sign off on you -- we never completed our emergency landing!"
"Sure we did -- it just took longer than you thought it would."
I had to laugh. "That really wasn't the result I was looking for. I've never seen anyone thermal out of a rope break before. But you didn't hesitate to execute your plan, you kept your options open, your situational awareness was good and you adapted to the changing conditions, you flew safe, and you stayed safe for others. I can't ask for more...it's just, well, tell me you won't make that your default plan for a rope break."
Leonard laughed with me. "I half expected you to pull the spoilers and announce 'simulated sink' and force us to land."
I tried to look stern. "I thought about it," I admitted. My grin came back. "For about two seconds. But I just couldn't bring myself to ditch a thermal that nice. Bad instructor. No cookie."
Okay, the "no cookie" line is fiction but the rest is really how it happened. I just felt the story needed a better finish. Maybe that line is too cute, but the memory of that flight still makes me smile, and I want the reader to do the same. I can't decide if a non-pilot would come away feeling the same without the little joke. Suggestions for further polishing are welcome.
I have a picture of "Leonard" in his single-seat sailplane "ZL" at [link]
That's a great story.
I think it could stand without the joke. I think it gives the right feeling.
It's already evocative, but if you wanted to take it a little further, you could add a bit of detail once you're in the thermal..how does it feel, how does it look, what does it make you think about?...before the solid punch of the resulting flight.
Research question x-posted with Natter: Anyone know how sturdy old VW buses were? Body-wise? If a vintage bus crashed into a modern police car, not hard enough to hurt anybody, but with definite impact, would the VW need a lot of bodywork? Or were they pretty sturdy?
Thinking aloud and seeking feedback....
One aspect of my alternate history WIP that AFAIC is a feature, not a bug, is that my protagonists aren't necessarily good nor my antagonists bad. It's a war series, and the protagonists' side looks better in terms of Just War Theory, but other than that which side a character is fighting on--or whether s/he chooses to avoid the fight altogether--isn't a reliable indicator of virtue or likability. I want my readers to root for the protagonists, but I wouldn't mind if they occasionally stop and ponder the gray areas, and I hope they like some of the antagonists as much as I do.
In particular, in the WIP, which is book one of what I expect to be a 4-5 book series...I think my principal antagonist is turning out a bit nicer than his protagonist. Antagonist is highly ambitious and a bit quixotic, but he's also a brave officer who loves his country and has a beloved daughter whom he's trying to provide for. He ends up opposed to Protagonist chiefly because by defeating and capturing him he expects to get further advancement. He gets a bit obsessed with it after Protagonist eludes him several times, but non insane-obsessed, just determined. Protagonist, OTOH, is an arrogant, entitled son-of-a-bitch--and since he's one of my real historical figures, I can't just alter his personality at a whim. Plus, he has to have room to grow over the course of the series--Antagonist doesn't, because he's just this book's antagonist and will die at its climax.
To me, this is good--there are enough reasons for the reader to root for the protagonists without having to make them a race of saints or the antagonists into actual bad guys (well, one or two of them are). There's the whole Just War thing, and the other major protagonist characters are pretty likable. (Except for Antagonist's daughter, who ends up a traitor to her father's side. She's kind of a piece of work.) But it seems to be bugging some of my CPs a bit. And I *was* originally planning to make Antagonist a bit more, well, evil. But he felt one-note and out of place in the story, and in his second scene he more or less insisted that he wasn't that bad and really did love his daughter and his country.
I think it should work just fine, Susan. It's one of the things I love about Le Miserables. You can have two polar opposites, yet feel sympathy for the antagonist and dislike for the protagonist. It makes the story more thematically complex. Perhaps your CPs are a tad simplistic in their outlook?
Perhaps your CPs are a tad simplistic in their outlook?
Possibly--and really, it's only two out of 8 people in my two critique groups. Now that I've switched genres, I think some of them aren't sure what to make of me. Really, I'm still figuring it out myself. This isn't the first time I've had a sympathetic antagonist, but in my romance manuscripts I didn't push the ambiguities quite so hard, and none of my heroes were quite so flawed as Protagonist.
Anyway, what I'm writing is still so new to me that I don't know whether it works or not. Scary, that, but at least I'm enjoying the ride.
You know, this makes me want to read "Great Expectations" again. Maybe I'd enjoy it if I read it on the assumption the reader is intended to dislike Pip. I like most of Dickens.
I think the ambiguous approach is worth exploring, Susan. It's hard to judge of your protagonist is too flawed or your antagonist too sympathetic without the whole picture. As you say, your protagonist will be growing, presumably he will do some of that in this book, and you've got Big Picture stuff that can add to the tragic downfall of the good guy on the wrong side aspect of your antagonist.
As you say, your protagonist will be growing, presumably he will do some of that in this book, and you've got Big Picture stuff that can add to the tragic downfall of the good guy on the wrong side aspect of your antagonist.
Yes, he does grow in this book--at least, I drag him kicking and screaming down a few pegs from his supreme heights of arrogance. As for the antagonist...maybe it's just me, but I enjoy the occasional sympathetic antagonist, and I like the idea of his downfall as a tragic necessity for the protagonists' survival rather than a triumph of good over evil.
As for the antagonist...maybe it's just me, but I enjoy the occasional sympathetic antagonist, and I like the idea of his downfall as a tragic necessity for the protagonists' survival rather than a triumph of good over evil.
I do, too. It can go too far. If at the end of the book your readers are thinking "damn, the wrong guy died", that might be a problem. But it doesn't sound like that's where you're headed.
