Experience is the Mother of Inspiration
Experience is the mother of inspiration. No one can write about that which they do not know. Having had the experience and seen it and been there using it becomes easy. “Oh yeah! So when were you last in space, or how about the last ocasion you time traveled?” Worthy question, glad I thought of that. Well, I’ve never actually killed anyone, at least not close up, but I do write about such things. So where’s the experience?
I was beside my friend when he got his face blown off with a 303 Lee-Enfield rifle. He did of course die. It’s something you don’t forget. I was working in air traffic control when we lost a helicopter in the Malayan jungle. We sent another out and they brought the bodies back. The sick quarters were not able to assist at 3:30 in the morning so we kept the mangled bodies at the tower until their removal could be arranged. Gruesome, I know, but experience is experience. As for space, well we can only add what we know to what we can imagine. If you’re new at writing, I strongly suggest you stick to what you know about. I count myself fortunate as I have been all over the world and seen most things, and done a good amount of them personally. Recently I added a new one, I descended to 150 feet under the sea in a miniature submarine. Fortunately I am of strong mental and physical constitution. One day Wing Commander Barthol came to our billet and asked, “Anyone want to go flying?” Everyone except myself shrank back. “Wonderful,” said Bathplug, as we affectionately knew him. “Come with me, son.” I did. His plane was a De Havilland Chipmunk, single engine, low wing monoplane. How that poor aircraft managed to stay in one piece is a miracle. The man was a flying maniac; it took three days for my stomach to catch up with me. Fortunately I have never been seasick, airsick or travel sick in any way. But now I refrain from accepting flights from pilots who grin a lot.
