Today I'm talking about going to a shooting range for the first time, which is something my heroine Shelby in I Do. . . or Die also did. Since I know next to nothing about guns, I knew it would be tough to describe without experiencing it myself. Luckily there was a "Learn to Shoot" class about a half hour away, and it was reasonably priced, so I had to check it out.
I took my best friend with me, as moral support, and as potential photographer, because I thought it would be cool to actually document the event, and post pics here as evidence. Unfortunately no picture-taking was allowed. But at least she can testify to all non-believers that I did actually load and shoot a gun, many times.
The course started out with about 30 minutes of safety instruction. It actually spread to about 40 minutes because our instructor (Mr. Marshall, a sixth grade teacher during the rest of the week) was so generous in answering our questions, complete with demonstrations. I asked about details for my book (like which gun a cop would most likely use in a small town). We both asked questions about things we've read in books or seen in movies (for instance, isn't it scary to carry a gun in the back of your pants? Yikes!)
After all the instruction, I felt pretty calm about the whole situation, and then it was time to actually go shoot.
But first, there were the headphones, which seem to block out almost all noise EXCEPT the sound of gunfire. And there's the clear plastic glasses which protect your eyes AND fog up so you can't see as clearly as you'd like.
Apparently most injuries in a shooting range occur when people staple (or un-staple) the paper target to the board. Mr. Marshall took care of that for me while I loaded five tiny .22 bullets into the magazine. Thank goodness there wasn't a time limit, because it took a buttload of strength to pull the lever back so the bullets could go in. If a lot of shooting is going to be involved in my books, I'll remember to have my characters carry tons of pre-loaded clips.
I was wearing my jean jacket, to keep myself covered up, because the other potential injury is from spent bullet casings (which are HOT) flying back and landing on the shooter. A couple of bullets headed towards my boot, but I did a fancy, not dorky, quick step and got out of the way.
I ended up taking my jacket off, because it didn't allow me to move my arms into position very well. And holding your arms out in front of you is VERY HARD WORK. I was trying to focus the gun sights, but my arms kept wavering while I tried to keep them in that completely unnatural, arms extended pose.
There is easily a zillion things to remember before you actually squeeze the trigger. (Which is why I know I will not be a pistol-packing mama – it takes forever to get READY to shoot, and I just don't have that kind of time.)
First thing to keep in mind: you don't have your finger anywhere near the trigger until you're Ready – and by Ready, I mean, done with all the other zillion steps. Naturally, your finger goes straight for the trigger as soon as you pick up the gun, so you have to forcibly remind yourself "finger away from the trigger", over and over.
Another important mantra is "don't point the gun until you're ready to shoot", which is obvious, and yet as much as I knew that and repeated it – yep, I still accidentally pointed it slightly towards Mr. Marshall when he said something to me. It was very slightly, and I realized it immediately. Especially when he pushed it aside. He was very good natured about it, since it happens ALL THE TIME. But it still makes you feel horrible for forgetting. Especially since my finger was probably near the trigger too.
It's important to have a solid stance, but that requires you to stick your butt out in a way that is SO unsexy. It's probably the moment I felt the dorkiest. Seriously. It counteracted my whole black outfit and black knee-high boot regalia. (Shelby really hated that part too.)
And aiming is one of the hardest parts of all. I found out I'm left-eye dominant (and I'm right-handed), so I had to close my right eye to focus on the gun sights. It really made me appreciate how difficult it is to be a sharpshooter. Don't ever look for that job title on my resumé.
After all that preparation, it was almost a relief to pull the trigger. Which you don't actually want to do. Instead you want to squeeze it, slow and steady.
Talk about exciting when I saw a small hole appear on the target! Granted, it was not on the big black circle in the middle, where I was aiming. It was in the white space at the EDGE of the paper. But it was still a hit!
I did the whole sequence four more times, and then Mr. Marshall and I brought the target in so I could see how I did. Surprisingly I did pretty well. I reloaded the magazine, and shot at the poor unsuspecting target again.
The best part of this whole process was learning, in person, what my character would be experiencing. There were several things I was able to incorporate into my written scene because of it. For example, the smell from the spent shells was distinctive, and I flinched each time at the muffled sound of the larger caliber ammo being shot nearby. Both of these were things that my main character, Shelby, commented on, in her inimitable fashion.
And to clarify, some things in my manuscript were extrapolated from the experience. Obviously my instructor did not get behind me to help me focus the gun sights, but it was a perfectly natural thing to have Ryan and Shelby do. Also, while talking to Mr. Marshall, it was difficult to hear, due to the headphones doing their job, making me realize how much my characters would rely on eye contact and lip reading, which I think increased their already heightened sense of each other.
All in all, it was an exhilarating experience. I don't expect to spend time doing target practice in the future. But it was a rush, and I thought I was a pretty good shot. I saved both of my paper targets, showing them off to anyone who would give me five seconds of their time.
Now I'm making a list of what to research for future books. So far I've got race-car driving and lessons on flying a helicopter. Am I forgetting anything?
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We're in the home stretch of the A to Z Challenge! I can't believe how fast the time has gone.
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