Getting a pilot's license was the furthest thing from her mind – until an ex-RAF instructor suggested that she wasn't competent to do so. The thing is, he could be right. Sylvia has just a few weeks to prove that she can fly as well as any man.
“You don't need a real license,” Tom said. The stern-faced ex-RAF instructor had already chided me for dressing inappropriately in my short skirt and open-toed sandals. Now I realized he wanted to get rid of me. He continued. “You want a wife's license. Forget the technical mumbo-jumbo. I'll show you the radio and we'll go up – you can even play with the flight controls.” A strangled sound escaped me. A wife's license?
You Fly Like a Woman tells the story of one woman's search for confidence as she stumbles into a man's world.
SYLVIA SPRUCK WRIGLEY is a pilot and aviation writer who has been obsessing about aviation safety for ten years. Her non-fiction has appeared in The Guardian, Piper Flyer and Forbes. In 2012 she was invited to speak as an aviation expert for the Discovery Channel series Air Crash Confidential (Series 2, Episodes 3 and 5).Her aviation blog receives 40,000 visitors a year. You Fly Like a Woman, her memoir about learning to fly, was released in December 2011. The book had over 12,000 downloads in the first quarter and is listed in the Amazon top 50 aviation books. Her latest series, Why Planes Crash, launched in May 2013.
The first book of the series covers eleven accidents and incidents in 2001, including the disastrous runway incursion at Linate, the near-miss over Tokyo, the Avjet Aspent Crash, Twin Towers and American Airlines Flight 587 disintegrating over Queens.
She also writes science fiction and fantasy. If you are interested in her fiction, visit her home page at http://www.intrigue.co.uk.
If you would like to find out more about Sylvia, please email her directly at email@example.com
To fly or not to fly - that is the question - except when you're really insulted by a guy who says you can't learn to do it, because you're a woman.Then there's no question, or, um, there is.Because making a snap decision based on being insulted, and then actually following through and learning something you had no interest in until that very insulted moment, and maybe you're also a little nervous about your abilities - that's another thing entirely.I grinned as I read this, living vicariously through this author as she struggles through her inner debate, watching to see what she's going to do.I loved this - the candor, the humor, and the nerves. Hope to see more soon.
Witty, insightful and thoroughly good fun without getting bogged down in tech jargon. Looking forward to more from Sylvia.
Well, I know nothing about planes, or flying, or being a pilot, but I found this book a highly entertaining read - I never once felt bogged down in aviation jargon, everything technical was explained clearly.
Having (re)learned to fly a couple of years ahead of Sylvia, also in France, this book really struck a chord with me. I recognised and empathised with so much that she went through, and if I'm honest, I learned some things too. I found this a lovely, warm book and felt almost that the author was a friend. Thanks, Sylvia.
Sylvia was told she couldn't fly, so of course she went on to learn to fly. It tells her story of learning in a man's world, from not being able to reach the pedals to her fear of her solo flight and her perservance. I would have liked it to be longer with more facts - for example, the bit about the banner planes was fascinating.It was well written, and had some insight in to how hard it was to pass a pilots license.