The basic story is that of one Rannulph Junuh, a demoralized WWI vet racked with survivor's guilt, alcoholism, and whatever they used to call PTSD back then--maybe battle fatigue or shell shock?--finding his way back to a fully functional and fulfilled life with the help of golf and a remarkable caddy, Bagger Vance, who appears out of nowhere.
As a young man before the war, Junuh was a most promising golfer--a true "natural," winning amateur matches with ridiculous ease. After he went off to the Great War, which provided a ringside seat to the massacre of every man in his unit but himself, golf didn't seem so important anymore--nor did much of anything else. Enter Bagger Vance to help him escape the downward spiral of his post-war existence.
As Bagger coaches Junuh on recovering his "one true, authentic swing," Junuh's old girlfriend, Adele Invergordon, organizes an exhibition match in which Savannah native son Junuh faces the towering mastery of legendary golfers Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen. Greatly frustrated by Junuh's embarrassingly poor performance in the opening round of the match, Adele asks Bagger why he isn't helping Junuh find his swing:
(Adele) Mr. Vance, what the judge is trying to determine is your strategy for helping poor Mr. Junuh find his game, because you seem to know as much about caddying as I do about driving a locomotive.
(Bagger) You all want to know my strategy? Right now my player is a little confused. See, he still think he Rannulph Junuh.
(The Judge) He is Rannulph Junuh, you damn twit!
(Bagger) Well, he is and he ain't.
--from The Legend of Bagger Vance
Some life transitions are tougher than others. The big ones often leave us mightily confused about the new person we've become--until we make the necessary adjustment. Leaving the flying life was like that for me. I just could not stop thinking I was the old Rannulph Junuh (er, Amy Gardiner). I could not move forward because I had no idea how to peacefully integrate the pilot into the writer, how to effect such a grand merger.
It seemed to work just fine for Richard Bach when he left the Air Force. Oh, he was still actively flying--which I currently am not--but his career persona had definitely shifted from pilot to writer. His short stories did mention some lifestyle turbulence, though. Hard to believe that he went through a starving writer phase, too, but that's what he said.
Even though I'd wanted to write a book during all those years I was flying for a living, it was still a shock when the day actually came to hang up my headset and pick up a pen--and sit down at the computer. The most difficult time while morphing into a writer arrived when I was editing the manuscript for the eighth time, wondering if I'd ever get it published to Amazon Kindle as an e-book. I kept trying to run back to aviation, convulsed by terror and stage fright. Back to the familiar, back to flying, back to the old Amy. Like Rannulph Junuh, I was--and I wasn't--the old me.
Eventually, it got better. Someone suggested that I didn't have to completely dump my pilot persona, just find a way to accept it as a permanent part of me, albeit in psyche autopilot standby mode, if you will. Oddly enough, it quickly found its way into my writing. Suddenly it seemed completely natural that my main character, Jude Hayes, would go back to flying in my second book in the series, They Pull Me Back In.
More of Bagger's sage advice regarded the aforementioned "one true, authentic swing" belonging to each of us sojourning on this planet:
It seems that my "one true, authentic swing" is found in my writing. I've probably always known this. While I was making my bones as a pilot, I sort of forgot about my writing. Well, never really forgot about it, just allowed it to slip pathetically far down my priority list. I'd get reminded of it every once in a while when I stopped in at a bookstore while on the ground in some strange city and wondered when I'd have a hardcover on that table up front. Or when I read an especially good piece of writing in an aviation trade magazine.
But my writing was always in the background patiently waiting. And I was actually always writing something. My boss observed that I could write him an entire story on a Blackberry--about a merely routine flight--before there even existed word processing apps for that. I copy edited flight manuals and sent short-story-length emails to everyone while "on the road," that is, hanging around the airport or the hotel. Personal journal entries. All those cover letters seeking a better flying job. . .. Writing was indeed always with me. And always fun. Effortless, too. Like Junuh's "one true, authentic swing." Which he eventually found. Guess that makes two of us.
(The Judge) He is Rannulph Junuh, you damn twit!
(Bagger) Well, he is and he ain't.
--from The Legend of Bagger Vance
Some life transitions are tougher than others. The big ones often leave us mightily confused about the new person we've become--until we make the necessary adjustment. Leaving the flying life was like that for me. I just could not stop thinking I was the old Rannulph Junuh (er, Amy Gardiner). I could not move forward because I had no idea how to peacefully integrate the pilot into the writer, how to effect such a grand merger.
It seemed to work just fine for Richard Bach when he left the Air Force. Oh, he was still actively flying--which I currently am not--but his career persona had definitely shifted from pilot to writer. His short stories did mention some lifestyle turbulence, though. Hard to believe that he went through a starving writer phase, too, but that's what he said.
Even though I'd wanted to write a book during all those years I was flying for a living, it was still a shock when the day actually came to hang up my headset and pick up a pen--and sit down at the computer. The most difficult time while morphing into a writer arrived when I was editing the manuscript for the eighth time, wondering if I'd ever get it published to Amazon Kindle as an e-book. I kept trying to run back to aviation, convulsed by terror and stage fright. Back to the familiar, back to flying, back to the old Amy. Like Rannulph Junuh, I was--and I wasn't--the old me.
Eventually, it got better. Someone suggested that I didn't have to completely dump my pilot persona, just find a way to accept it as a permanent part of me, albeit in psyche autopilot standby mode, if you will. Oddly enough, it quickly found its way into my writing. Suddenly it seemed completely natural that my main character, Jude Hayes, would go back to flying in my second book in the series, They Pull Me Back In.
More of Bagger's sage advice regarded the aforementioned "one true, authentic swing" belonging to each of us sojourning on this planet:
Yep, inside every one of us is one true, authentic swing. Somethin’ we was born with. Somethin’ that’s ours and ours alone. Somethin’ that can’t be taught to ya or learned. Somethin’ that got to be remembered.
--from The Legend of Bagger VanceOver time, the world can rob us of that swing. It get buried inside us under all our wouldas and couldas and shouldas. Some folk even forget what their swing was like.
It seems that my "one true, authentic swing" is found in my writing. I've probably always known this. While I was making my bones as a pilot, I sort of forgot about my writing. Well, never really forgot about it, just allowed it to slip pathetically far down my priority list. I'd get reminded of it every once in a while when I stopped in at a bookstore while on the ground in some strange city and wondered when I'd have a hardcover on that table up front. Or when I read an especially good piece of writing in an aviation trade magazine.
But my writing was always in the background patiently waiting. And I was actually always writing something. My boss observed that I could write him an entire story on a Blackberry--about a merely routine flight--before there even existed word processing apps for that. I copy edited flight manuals and sent short-story-length emails to everyone while "on the road," that is, hanging around the airport or the hotel. Personal journal entries. All those cover letters seeking a better flying job. . .. Writing was indeed always with me. And always fun. Effortless, too. Like Junuh's "one true, authentic swing." Which he eventually found. Guess that makes two of us.
No comments:
Post a Comment