Today we are asking you to comment on the opening prologue of a narrative nonfiction title.
PROLOGUE:
"We’ve said
goodbye in so many places, and in so many ways. A cavernous Air Force hangar
built to hold beasts of planes, used to herd my husband off to war. In
countless civilian airports. After the first few times,
passionate embraces in full view of those poor ticket agents just cease to be
embarrassing. Or, you forgo the kissing and give him a quick peck and do the
casual goodbye because it almost feels routine, never mind that after you drop
him off you will flee homeward and hide away, rewriting the narrative of the
next year. Two weeks. Two weeks is what it takes for me to assimilate to my new
normal. To emerge, to coexist with the undercurrent of worry and the
well-meaning but horribly misguided friends and strangers who think what you
really need to hear right then, is their opinion on the war. Really,
thank you but no.
Said goodbye in
more aircraft hangars. A lot of aircraft hangars. Said goodbye when we had six
months to prepare, or two months, or two weeks, or a full year. Said goodbye to
my husband praying it was only temporary. Said goodbye to my best friend at her
funeral. Said goodbye to unborn babies I wanted so badly to live. Said goodbye
to my sweet firstborn girl for a year, pleading with God even as I left that I
wouldn’t have to go.
I say goodbye to
my husband every day in a community where mistakes mean machines fail and
people die. Complicated flying machines that depend on a meticulous symphony of
man and metal. To be fair, it’s a joyful, freewheeling job, the flying. Even
now, when I close my eyes I am soaring upward, so elated, so free. But
the haunt of loss is ever present. The joy tinged a pale gray around the
edges."
Please let us know if you would read on by leaving your comment below.
We appreciate last weeks contributing author: Becky Doughty. Please stop by and visit Becky at the following sites.
www.beckydoughty.com
https://twitter.com/#!/
2 comments:
Yes, I would like to see what follows. I'm automatically a sucker for stories about men and their flying machines, and true accounts of servicemen in the Air Force (past or present) appeal to me. My dad owned a single engine plane all my growing-up days, and I've jumped from a couple perfectly good Cessnas just for fun. I encourage the author to push forward with this.
I like the premise of this story - I, too, am interested in aircraft, having grown up under the wing of an aircraft mechanic on the mission field. I think the author captures the tentative nature of good-byes and the "feel" of soaring.
I did struggle a little over the sentence structure and flow. There were incomplete sentences paired with run-on sentences, requiring me to re-read portions to fully understand what was being said. I found myself creating more structure mentally...does that make sense?
Nice work.
Blessings,
Becky
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