by Page, Wayne;
The CVS clerk slid the packet of developed film across the counter. My fingers fumbled with the gummed flap as I arrayed the deck of photos on the cold glass countertop. There I was, my arm around the waist of NOTHING. I was clear as a bell. But no white wedding dress. No ghostly virgin bride.
“Huh,” my wife, ever the photographic technician deadpanned, feeling underexposed. “Looks like the spirit was willing, but the flash was weak.”
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Acknowledgments
When accepted to the U.S. Air Force Officer Candidate School at Lackland Air Force Base in 1970, I took the pilot’s aptitude test. With my poor eyesight, no way would I ever become a pilot–or a navigator. Lest I protest too much, I was advised my scores would only be used for normative purposes. Hearing the scoring sergeant snicker as he totaled my results, I knew I had skewed the bell-curve off its axis. Normative indeed. I only made one mistake: I flew the entire pilot’s test upside-down. Including the landing.
Still intrigued with flying and buoyed by lots of research, I persevered with Barnstorm. Thanks to real Stearman pilots Andy Schechter, Frank Schaufler (aviation artist – cover design), David Brown and others met at the National Stearman Fly-in held annually in Galesburg, Illinois. Marveling at present-day stunt pilots like Brett Hunter, in the Zombie Slayer proves that some planes are meant to fly upside-down. If there’s a technical aeronautical glitch in Barnstorm, don’t blame these pilots. It’s probably a resurfacing of my propensity for the upside-down.
Early screenplay readers and page-burners include son-in-law Clay, daughter Miranda (who facilitated my first Hollywood rejection) wife Laura, and Hollywood director-assistant Kelly.
“Come on, write the book,” they all pleaded. I should channel Hollywood actor, screenwriter, and friend Jesse’s tact and diplomacy with his brutal honesty that kept me writing. OLLI creative writing coaches and mentors, George Weber and Barry Raut were encouraging and constructive. Something I will try to emulate when I facilitate a writing class. Harriet Feigenblatt (founder of Legendary Writers) suffered through early drafts as did relatives who begged anonymity to protect their reputations. Special thanks to the “table read” gang who previewed the Barnstorm screenplay version.
Fellow writers and book club page-turners who took red pens to drafts include Glenn, Karen, Gail (“don’t make me use my librarian voice”) Fred, Jinny, Marilyn, Ruth, Flo, Joan, Lela, Jack, Kaki, and canine technical advice from Ben, Buster, and Rosie. Cover photo of Frank’s original artwork thanks to sister Becky.
Grandson Ricky likes original, oral bedtime stories. Grandkids Eddie, Will, and toddler Alexandra prefer the printed word, as long as dinosaurs are involved. Whenever I try to shortcut a story, I get called to task. Ricky was most insistent as a seven year old when he admonished, “Come on Grandpa, you gotta have conflict–or you don’t have a story.” So, to all who provide conflict in our lives: thank you.
About the Author
Barnstorm started twenty-five years ago as a note scribbled on a 3 x 5 index card. Between then and now, Wayne’s creative juices have been directed to writing groups, short stories (visit Barnstormbook.com to sample his latest effort), high-school musical Bury Old Man Gruff, and grade-school musical The Woodsman and His Back Pack. Barnstorm resurfaced as a Hollywood screenplay that has earned its share of rejection. Agent Babz proffered advice “save it for the book” and “the odds of seeing anything you write on the big screen are someplace between nil and none.” And she’s the optimist. So, here’s Wayne’s first novel.
A retired human resources executive, Wayne lives in Cincinnati with Laura, a patient wife and best friend of 45 years. He’s an active member of Cincinnati’s Legendary Writers and facilitator of an Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (University of Cincinnati) creative writing course aptly named – Curing the Blank Page.