Everybody has a story

For me it all started with a high school teacher named Mr. Johnson. It was 1973. He taught English composition. Thank goodness I took that class.

A common assignment involved writing a first-person story. To motivate us our teacher would enthrall the class with stories of his own life. Fascinating tales filled with adventure and drama.

Still, most of the work we students turned in was less than inspired. One day, as Mr. Johnson encouraged us to write more exploratory material about ourselves, a girl in the class suggested, “Our lives aren’t as interesting as yours.”

That simple statement led to one of the most compelling lessons of my life. Mr. Johnson explained with great intensity that all of us led lives that were fascinating. We just hadn’t learned to see ourselves as miraculous beings of unlimited potential yet. 

Whew. That left a mark on my brain. The impression lingers, too.

I began writing, an activity I continue to this very day. Beyond this column, which I enjoy tremendously, I’ve written a handful of fiction titles (all available on Amazon.com thank you very much), and a long series of magazine articles and educational materials that sometimes appear under a name other than my own.

Such is the nature of being a writer. 

Last week a large puffy envelope showed up in my mailbox, forwarded from the office of General Aviation News. Inside was a handwritten letter and a thick paperback book, “Live and Learn.” A reader of this column, Sanford Orenstein, took the time to send me a copy of his autobiography, which I read over this past weekend. 

The story found between the covers includes a slew of Sanford’s exploits. These include his personal life, his professional life, and his emotional reaction to many of those events. Airplanes figure in there from time to time. The author didn’t fly professionally, but he did expand his business potential through the use and enjoyment of aircraft. His tales include adventures flying landplanes and seaplanes to move about the landscape for fun and as transportation to sales calls.

Thank you for sharing, Sanford. 

Now and then aspiring writers reach out to me in an attempt to gain insight into how they might tell their story. After more than 30-years of writing professionally, I enjoy the opportunity to share with others how they might put a story onto the page and publish the finished work. Sometimes that happens on a one-on-one basis. Sometimes it’s in a college classroom or auditorium. Whatever makes sense, that’s what we do.

Brian Brogen approached me for that exact reason. A new pilot who felt compelled to write up his flight training experience for the enjoyment and betterment of others, Brian invited me to lunch one afternoon to ask how he might get that done. The finished product, The 100-Hour Pilot, is partially a flight training manual and partially a memoir about the trials, tribulations, and ultimate success Brian experienced on his way to becoming a pilot. His dream fulfilled, he very much wanted to tell the world. So he did. 

I met Vic Tatelman on my home field back in the last days of the 20th Century. Vic was a partner in a beast of a B-25 known as “Barbie III.” It was my good fortune to change out the number 2 engine on Barbie III when I was wrenching and riveting at Tom Reilly’s Warbird Museum in Kissimmee, Florida. Vic seemed to be ever present, sharing stories about his years flying the medium bomber in the South Pacific during World War II.

Not long before he passed away Vic shared a copy of Flying Colors with me. Sarah Moore is the author who compiled Vic’s many stories into a cohesive package. I’m glad she put in the work.

Vic is gone now, but his stories remain, as do Brian’s and Sanford’s. 

I am fortunate to have had the benefit of Mr. Johnson urging me on all those years ago. Having written for decades now, I enjoy a certain peace of mind that comes with the knowledge that I will leave something of myself behind when I go. My stories will endure. My life will have meaning that extends beyond the day when I take my last breath.

The books featuring Sanford and Brian and Vic might have been called vanity publications in another time. Now, books of this sort fall under the self-publishing banner. There is no shame in that. To this point in my life I’ve never bought a book because the publisher impressed me. Rather, I’m drawn to stories that interest me. To people who have accomplishments or challenges to share in a way that keeps me turning the page.

Whether the title page extols the exploits of famed aviators like Paul Tibbets, Bob Hoover, Amelia Earhart, or Sully Sullenberger, I’m inclined to be intrigued by the life and adventures of men and women who do things. Big things, small things, it doesn’t matter. Some portion of their life was worth talking about. So their story was put on paper or created in a digital format.

Writing a book is hard work. Anyone who has seriously settled in and begun the process of telling a story knows that to be true. Yet, it has never been easier or less expensive to publish than it is today.

You have a story to tell. Maybe it’s a short novelette touching on a single adventure. Perhaps it’s a longer form fictionalized story that includes your unique perspective on a topic or event. Then again you may have a full-blown book in you. Believe me, someone will read it. Someone might even be inspired by what you have to share.

Everybody has a story. Write yours. If not for the wider world, at least to inform future generations of your own family about who you were and what you did while you were here. As Sanford and Brian did.

Start.