by Kristy Horine
My husband went into the hobby store for a battery tester. The tester was for the wireless stomp pedal that turns the pages on the iPad where he stores his music sheets for the trumpet he plays on Sunday mornings.
He’d been having trouble with the stomp pad. He attacked the problem like he usually does: a serious process of elimination.
First, he changed the batteries. Then, he played around at the angle his feet hit the silver depressor buttons. Then, he jumped online and waded into every forum he could find on stomp pedals. Then, he watched a few YouTube videos. Then, he landed in the hobby store to find all the right wires, gauges, and alligator clips necessary to test batteries.
“Ah.” He nodded his head, rubbed his chin a bit.
Turns out, there was something wonky with the wiring inside the stomp pedal connecting the batteries to the device.
Also turns out the warranty had recently expired.
My husband ordered a DC adapter. He can still use his devices and toot his horn.
Still, there was something that just wouldn’t let go of him. Something that kept him staring into space, rubbing his chin, zoning out on conversations.
It wasn’t long before I received a text. “I’m in the hobby store. Think Sadie would like to shoot off a rocket?”
And so it began.
“Good launch weather.”
We trudged over the fields – the rocket and we three.
A connection here, a countdown there, and the rocket was off in a whoosh of flame and a cloud of smoke. It reached an apex and began a descent. The parachute failed to deploy. The rocket plummeted to earth.
My husband shook his head.
“I’m sorry for the launch failure.”
My mouth fell open a little.
“Are you kidding?!? That launch was perfect. The landing was a little iffy, but the launch was fantastic!”
The rocket lived to launch another day – five more times, to date.
So, what does this have to do with writing?
We have a problem, a need or a want, an assignment, or a story spark. Sometimes the writing comes fast, the words falling into perfect places. Sometimes there’s a distraction and one thing leads to another. We go in for a tester and end up standing in a field by a launchpad. T-10 and counting.
There are times we know the beginning. There are times we think we know the beginning. Often, we can only guess at where or how our work might land.
No matter the unknowns, dear writers, today there’s good launch weather. It’s T-10 and writing.
Writing Prompt – Using this story starter and photo, write an opening paragraph: “The heather is blooming on the mountain,” Oriole said. “I’m longing to go.”