The Idea Takes Flight

My first (unpublished) novel, ThruLine, was about a down-on-his-luck Midwestern actor who mugs an NBA hopeful, and then uses the money to try his luck at Hollywood. This novel was full of profanity! Very Tarantino-esque. Flashbacks, hookers, drugs,f- this and that, multiple murders. There was something really angsty there that needed to get out. I've heard that is true sometimes with first novels. I'll admit the book is terrible. There are good passages, but for the most part, the novel taught me how NOT to write.

When my second child was born, I had another opportunity to write a novel. And at this point my life was way different. After raising my 5-year-old daughter I didn't want to go back to the cussing nonsense. I wanted to write something I could read to her. I also felt bad because my late grandmother, my penpal for years and huge supporter of my writing, had never seen a copy of ThruLine. I was too embarrassed to show her-- she would have been offended and quite surprised. I wanted to write something everybody in the world could read. I once read that John Grisham thought the success of The Firm was due to its across-the-board readability. Certainly his success was something I could dream on.

So I was at the park one day, with the fam, obsessing on what to write about as usual,when it hit me. I had just ended a miserable job at FedEx as a nightshift shipping clerk. And one of the perks there was when packages were lost, and no destination could be found, they were thrown away, or sometimes taken home. You had no idea where theses parcels came from and where they were going, they were lost goods. At first I thought, how about I uncover a box of fairy dust? Maybe the car could fly, or a house? But that seemed to wide open, the possibilities too many to choose. What else could be found in a box? Somehow the idea of magic dress-up fairy wings hit me and I began to write in July of 2011.

Below is the first 2 chapters, very rough draft, of FLYWINGS. With its original title, THE FLYING KRELL, and dust jacket plot synopsis and author bio. This first completed, beginning-to-end version was finished in May 2012. I printed one off at the local print shop and my mom was the first to read it. Enjoy.

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The Flying Krell

©2012 Ryan P. Standley

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Summary:
Stacey Krell is new in town and bullied at school until her dad unknowingly brings home dress-up wings that really fly. During her secret flights, heroism lands Stacey global media intrigue, and friendly advice from a botany genius. But what happens when her parents find out, or the rightful owner of the wings? Set in New England, The Flying Krell follows one family’s vivid adventure, when magic interrupts reality.

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About the Author:
Ryan P. Standley has enjoyed writing since childhood, and got his first story printed in 2008. Since then his travel reviews, interviews, fiction and more have appeared in various publications. What he likes most is writing about his family, including his weekly column Play Date on Arlington.Patch.com. Ryan has lived in Massachusetts since 2010.

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Meet the Family

On a summer evening not long ago, the Krell family was quite nervous. The mother, Claire Krell, double and triple-checked everything. The father, Tim Krell followed orders, and the daughter, Stacey Krell, just wanted to play.

Stacey had done nothing wrong. Hadn’t whined, thrown a fit or made a mess. But there she sat, on the back porch, ordered to be motionless.

Claire sat like an overstuffed pillow on the porch step behind Stacey, her gut jutting into the child’s back. Again and again, Claire passed a fine metal comb through the child’s dark hair. Parting one side and then the other, methodically picking through, wiping the comb on a paper towel and mumbling worriedly.

Inside the home Tim hustled around, his bald head shining with sweat as he threw Stacey’s stuffed animals into garbage bags. Tim sealed the plastic bags tight with a knot and then vacuumed the sofa and mattresses.

Tim’s workshop vacuum roared as it devoured dust bunnies, tissues, crumbs, and most importantly, hair. Stray hairs had potential to carry nits, or lice eggs.

Stacey’s rice-shaped invaders could have jumped off Grandma Jeanne, who just left town. The lice may have infested a kid at the Children’s Museum, a tourist on the USS Constitution, or the plush chair at the bank. Or maybe they came from a classmate on Stacey’s first day of school.

The Saint Joseph Elementary School campus sat on a grassy triangular lot near the Krell house, and the center of Arlington, Mass. Private sidewalks linked multiple old buildings, like the gymnasium, library, and church. Stacey’s school towered with dark brick walls and a large black door, which made the building quite ominous to kids, but not Stacey.

Stacey marched right through those doors with a big smile on her face. She didn’t cry or complain, despite the fact that she didn’t know a soul. The whole family didn’t know anybody.

Just last week, the Krell family moved to New England from Chicago. They hadn’t yet met the neighbors. The Krells were busy unpacking boxes and deciding where to put stuff. The house was much larger than their old apartment.

From their large front porch, a screen door led into the living room, and a stairway to two upstairs bedrooms. Beside the living room stood a giant dining room, then a decent sized kitchen, back porch and backyard, complete with a swing-set. The basement, finished with carpet, supplied a playroom and a workshop for Tim, one reason they had bought the house. Another was the new vinyl siding, in soft blue, Tim’s favorite, and a wide blacktopped driveway. The home was old, like most in New England, but it was also quite cute, as Claire said.

“Don’t worry, Stacey.” Claire explained. “These little bugs will be a pain for a week, but they’ll go away.”

“What’s wrong with bugs?” Stacey asked. “I like bugs.”

“They’re gross!” Claire shrieked.

Claire could not stand insects. When she and Tim first moved in together, years ago, Tim heard screaming and rushed into the bathroom. Claire stood dripping wet in the corner of the shower stall pointing at a spider that had crawled out of the drain. Tim calmly barehanded the pest and ground it in his fingertips like a clump of sugar.

“Vacuuming is done.” Tim announced, joining the girls on the back porch.

“You put the sheets in the wash?” Claire asked.

“Yep.” Tim nodded.

“Once the rugs are vacuumed, spray them with the stuff.”

“Did it.” Tim said.

“What about Stacey’s clothes from yesterday?” Claire asked, “Are those washed?”

“Yes.” Tim sighed.

“Don’t forget to call her school.”

“Okay.” Tim nodded.

“When you’re done,” Claire said, “Comb my hair. I can’t see my own scalp, you know.”

Tim sauntered back into the house as Claire sighed and refocused on Stacey’s head.

“I’m being a good girl, right?” Stacey asked her mom.

“Yes, honey.” Claire nodded.

“So I’m going to get lots of treats after this, right?”

“Of course.” Claire smiled.

“How many?” Stacey wondered. “Six treats? Or seven?”

“A couple, I guess.” Claire decided.

Claire Krell was large and in charge— the reason the family moved to New England. Claire earned her PhD in Chemistry and then a lucrative job as a researcher in Cambridge. The international pharmaceutical company, Quanvol, was located near the Charles River, alongside MIT and Harvard.

Claire specialized in advanced vaccine research. She conducted experiments, wrote papers, and led brainstorming sessions. Claire studied chemical bonds in the smallest scale. She spat techno jargon like spectrometer, polypropathol, luciferase and phospholipids. Trials of her work were conducted on mice, which was super top-secret stuff.

Occasionally someone asked Tim what his wife did for a living and he shrugged. Claire’s job involved microscopes and medicine, and that was good enough for him.

Claire’s laboratory was housed in a former candy factory. When the scientists moved in and gutted the place, they power-washed nearly a foot of sugar off the cement floor. Other candy factories still existed in the area, and sometimes when Tim and Stacey picked Claire up after work, they smelled warm marshmallow, mint or root beer.

However, Claire’s large appearance had little to do with sweets. The fact was, that Claire was pregnant with a baby boy! Frequent family conversations revolved around baby names like: Dominick, Colin, Thomas, and Preston.

“I like the name Coo-Coo!” Stacey suggested.

“Coo-Coo? Oh, no!” Claire laughed. “How about Eric?”

“No way!” Tim snapped. “That’s my boss’ name.”

Tim Krell worked for Union Express, an international shipping corporation, which was housed in a filthy, mosquito infested, loud warehouse. Daily, Tim saw thousands of brown cardboard boxes, and hundreds of unkempt men. Work began at 2am and everyone was dead-tired as zombies.

Workers hoisted boxes, of every shape and size, from semi-truck trailers, to conveyor belts. More workers sorted those boxes onto more belts, and more belts, until a final guy threw the package into its proper delivery van.

Most of the time, Tim stayed in his chain-linked dog-pen office, referred to as the QA Cage. As he had in Chicago, Tim worked as quality assurance clerk, and organized lost packages. He researched addresses online, corrected, re-labeled, and phoned recipients and shippers. If nobody claimed a lost package in two weeks it was returned to sender, thrown in the garbage, sent to corporate, or sometimes, taken home!

Once a thirty-pound box of lollipops broke open and cascaded across the belts. Workers ate the treats or chucked them at each other. Another time a hundred fruit snacks bags showed up, grape, cherry, lime, and strawberry. Tim gathered several and the Krell family ate fruit snacks for days. Tim maximized the job’s only perk, and brought home glow-sticks at Fourth of July, pastel eggs for Easter, and even red roses for Claire on Valentine’s Day.

“Here’s a pop-sickle, sweetie!” Tim said, delivering a treat to Stacey on the back porch.

“All right! Thanks, Dad!” Stacey cheered.

Stacey licked the pop-sickle while Claire double-checked her hair. Tim sat on the porch step behind Claire and parted her dark hair with another fine-toothed comb.

“I feel like I’m a monkey.” Tim giggled. “Ever see monkeys pick through each other’s hair? They eat the bugs, right? Can I eat these bugs?”

“Gross!” Claire squealed. “There aren’t many, is there?”

“Oh, no.“ Tim assured her. “Just a couple. Bugs like cute kid hair. Not old lady hair.” He teased.

“I know the bugs won’t get me.” Tim smiled. “Buzzed my hair clean off!”

“What was left of it.” Claire teased.

“Be nice.” Tim smiled.

“I do wish I could buzz mine, though.” Claire sighed. “This sucks.”

“I’ll get my clippers!” Tim said. “Stacey? You want a bald head too?”

“No way!” Stacey laughed.

“Oh!” Claire exclaimed, “Did you feel that Stacey?”

“Yes!” Stacey said.

Claire laughed, “Little brother just kicked you!”

The Krell family giggled briefly, but remained focused, and picked at their heads until sunset.

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School Rules

“Congratulations, kids! We have completed our first full week of school this year!” announced Ms. Doherty, Stacey’s teacher.

The woman was in her early forties, with long snarly brown hair, a double chin, thick glasses, and a beautiful smile.

“But this is our second week.” A kid disputed.

“This is your first full week,” Ms. Doherty clarified. “Last week you had two half-days. And for your great efforts each of you’ll get a new sticker on your homework folders!

“Also, I’m going to hang up the Picture of the Week. Everyone’s pictures are so good.” Ms. Doherty smiled and tacked up an orange piece of construction paper with a finger-painted horse. “Great job, Sebastian. Look at that pony! With gorgeous blue hair! I wish I had hair like that. I’d look cool, right?”

A couple kids giggled and Ms. Doherty continued.

“And, kiddos, guess what? You have behaved so well, that I am going to put three marbles in the jar. Remember, when the jar is full we get a pizza party!”

The marbles plunked inside an empty pickle jar.

“You have to behave everyday, or else I take marbles out. Got it?” Ms. Doherty said. “We have a six minutes left before the bell rings, so let’s do the name game. Stacey, you start.”

“My name is Stacey.” Stacey grinned. “Stacey starts with S, like star.”

“Too easy, right?” Ms. Doherty smiled, “Next.”

“My name is Lynette.” A curly blonde said. “Lynette starts with L, like love.”

“My name is Wally.” A puny boy said. “Wally starts with W, like water.”

“Wally,” Ms. Doherty said. “What is that in your hand?”

“Cell phone.” Wally shrugged.

“Oh, no!” Ms. Doherty frowned. “I can’t have those in my classroom. That’s one of the rules. I’m allergic to cell phones.”

“Huh?” some students murmured.

“Yep.” Ms. Doherty nodded. “True story. If I touch one, I break out in hives. I’m allergic to video games too. And those bracelets, the ones kids wear up their wrists? Yep, can’t touch those either. I found out the hard way. I used to teach high school and most of those kids had cellphones. This is my first elementary school phone. I can’t believe it. Please, everybody, don’t bring any phones or those other things into the classroom, ok? I don’t want to get sick.”

“What in the heck are you talking about?” Wally said. “That’s impossible.”

“Hold it right there!” Ms. Doherty snapped. “I don’t want to hear that phrase! Nobody says ‘what the hay’, ‘what in the world’ or ‘what in the anything’ in here, got it? It sounds terribly disrespectful. Makes me cringe. Say it again, I take a marble out.”

“How can you be allergic to plastic?” Wally persisted.

“I don’t know.” Ms. Doherty shrugged. “Strange isn’t it? Doctors can’t explain it. It’s just one of those things.”

“Is it magic?” Stacey asked.

“I never thought of it as magic.” Ms. Doherty considered. “But if you can’t explain it with science, then I suppose you could call it magic. Now, c’mon. Back to the name game. Andrea, hit it.”

“My name is Andrea.” A dark haired girl said. “Andrea starts with A, like all.”

The name game made it around to the last kid, and the bell rang.

[end]