Fast planes, deadly dogfights, brave pilots: the Battle of Britain has no shortage of heroes. So as I sat down to write Taking London, the first challenge was figuring out which individuals would help tell the story, Winston Churchill was the obvious choice to be a primary character. He's the tentpole on which the narrative rests. Air Marshal Hugh Dowding was also indispensable. Though relatively unknown in America, his brilliance has led to monuments and postage stamps in his honor in England.
When I signed the contracts to write a book about the Battle of Britain, my first thought was that it would be easy to research. Plenty of other books about the topic. Lots of museum displays. Actual BoB aircraft still flying after all these years, as I knew from a previous visit to the Imperial War Museum's Duxford annex. But after reading Len Deighton's Fighter to better understand the story arc and begin to contemplate a way to tell the story from a unique perspective I realized I had a problem: too much information.
Just six weeks to go!
The obvious question about my choice of topic is how does a writer in Orange County, California come to write a book about the Battle of Britain? The Lord works in mysterious ways, but as near as I can divine it all began with the 1969 movie.
Taking London comes out seven weeks from Tuesday. I've been doing this a long time so I know it's best to try not to think about it. The gestation cycle is so long between finishing a book and seeing it in print. I will be euphoric and perhaps weep when I receive my first box of finished copies, cracking it open to hold the new book in my hands for the first time.
Here's a little Easter gift for all my readers. I've long threatened to write a fiction piece. For the past few months, as part of my daily warm-up, I've written a little of this and a little of that. No title yet. Not sure if this stab at fiction will ever see the light of day but it's been a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy this sample, and have a great Easter!
I recently saw a photo of Gray Man author Mark Greaney on a speedboat, laptop open, typing away on a new book while rocketing across a lake somewhere.
I can relate. My guess is that he was on deadline, squeezing in a few hundred words to expand his writing day. There's an illusion that serious writers lock themselves in a cone of silence whenever they make sentences. The world never intrudes. We light a candle, pour a cup of coffee, shut the door, and enjoy a daily routine that does not deviate one iota until the book is done.
I usually write these missives on Sunday. It's my down day for the week and my mind is free to wander. But Calene and I spent the weekend in San Diego, hanging out with our oldest son to celebrate his birthday. There was no agenda. We wandered the waterfront to start the morning, stopping to tour the USS Midway, something I suggested because I'm writing a book about the Battle of Midway and the visit felt like a fine symbolic gesture. I also thought it was a great way to kill an hour or so.
On those occasions such as this morning, when I start my day with a leftover slice from Ballpark Pizza, I always think of the fasting guru who told me that any food was permissible when breaking a fast, "unless, you know, it's pizza."
What follows is a cautionary tale, though not about nutrition.
