I don’t know what is shaking harder: this plane or me.
I hate flying. I really hate flying.
Well, okay, it’s not the flying, as much as the taking off, landing, and turbulence.
It scares the crap out of me.
I’ve tried hypnosis, music, pills, and booze. None of it works.
So, I just suffer and write.
In fact, I write my best work while on a flight.
The worse the flight, the better the writing, my publisher says.
She pays for my tickets, pills, and booze.
The airlines all want me as their resident writer.
I want to retire.