Remember this gang? Yeah, you do. I stopped watching Criminal Minds when Mandy Patinkin left, but started again when I realized that I could still look at Shemar Moore for forty-seven minutes every week. I mean, come on:

I’m only human. I stopped watching The Young and the Restless when Uncle Malcolm left for the greener pastures of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and I never started up again. Letting go of stuff gets easier as I age.

Criminal Minds had its share of missteps as far as writing was concerned (like, Penelope Garcia was clearly not from Earth. No one can search out every abandoned auto manufacturing warehouse in Michigan that fast and have it all sent to your phones within eight seconds), but if there’s one thing those writers could do, it was get people on planes.

Like anybody I know will ever be on a plane like this. I’d say this is the more common occurrence, but that’s not my point.

Over the last year and a half, I’ve edited three novels and two memoirs, which all included extensive air travel. In each case, I asked the authors to cut considerable amounts of words that were completely unnecessary. I wrote this post 487 years ago, but it relates to what I’m saying here. If you’ve not done, you might want to go there now and have a glance.

Here’s some text I made up to illustrate the point I’ll be making later. None of this is in any way representative of the books I’ve edited. I’m making this up on the fly (haw haw).

““Well,” said Antonio, standing up from the breakfast table. “We’d better get rolling so you don’t miss your flight to Virginia to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

”Thanks for the lift, Dad,” said Constance. She put on her pink sunglasses and slung her carry-on over her shoulder. Her dad put her suitcase in the trunk and pulled the 2012 Prius into the street.

When they arrived at the airport, Antonio parked in the five-minute drop-off zone. He retrieved her suitcase from the trunk and they gave each other a warm hug.

”Wish me luck!” Constance called out.

”You don’t need it. You’re the second-fastest typist on planet Earth and you have the certificate to prove it.” She waved as he drove away.

Constance entered the airport via the revolving doors. She found her passport and scanned it at one of the terminals. She retrieved her boarding pass and bag tag. Finding the strip of paper that covers the adhesive, she pulled on it and attached the tag to her suitcase.

As she made her way toward security, she...”

Guess what your reader is doing now? Yeah. This.

Do you want this? No. No, you do not.

Let’s assume everything goes well with Constance as she takes her shoes off and goes through security. Let’s further suppose she finds a Chili’s and orders some chicken fingers and a glass of wine. Let’s imagine her pulling out her battered copy of How to Recognize Serial Killers so she can freshen up on the plane. Let’s pick up our fictional narrative there.

“Constance heard the call for her flight and packed away her book.

”Shitbag Airlines flight number 487 to Quantico will begin boarding shortly at gate 37. Please have your passport and boarding pass available for inspection.”

She sipped the last of her wine and found her passport and boarding pass. Gate 37 was a five-minute journey on a moving walkway. Constance stepped to the left to let others walk past her.

As she boarded the plane, others were putting their too-huge carry-ons in the overhead lockers. She found her seat, tucked her bag under the seat in front of her, and put on her seatbelt.

”Welcome aboard Shitbag Airlines, ladies and gentlemen,” said a flight attendant speaking awkwardly into an old-timey phone. “Our flight time to Quantico will be four hours and eight minutes.”

Another attendant announced, “Flight attendants: close doors and cross-check.” Constance watched as the crew closed the doors and took their places on the little fold-down seats. As she looked out the window... ”

HOLY MOTHER OF I DON’T KNOW WHAT. At this rate, this book will be longer than Gone with the Wind and that thing could stop a bank vault door.

Now let’s go back to Criminal Minds and my point. This gal, who appeared to have her bangs professionally cut every morning before work, invariably leaned over a table of her colleagues in every episode and said, “Wheels up in thirty.”

We then saw an annoying string of mostly this:

Then, almost invariably, we saw this:

They’re ON THE PLANE. No driving there, no security, no waiting around drinking over-priced beer, no saying NO to pushy people behind credit card booths, no boarding procedure, no safety announcements, nothing. They are simply on the plane. Granted it’s a private plane, but they’d still have to go through security. Hell, the person flying your plane and the person handing you the mini bottle of bad French wine have to go through security.

But your reader doesn’t need to see any of that. It’s possible there are people who have never entered an airport in their lives. But everyone who consumes any kind of art in which airplanes are involved knows the basic procedure.

In three cases, I asked the authors of the books I was editing if they had ever been on a plane that took off before the doors were closed?

Now I propose we rewrite our story of Constance and her dad:

““Well,” said Antonio. “We’d better get rolling so you don’t miss your flight to Virginia to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

”Wish me luck!” Constance called out. She waved as he drove away.

As she sipped her mini bottle of bad French wine, she looked out the plane window and wondered what snaps in people’s minds and turns them into serial killers.”

THAT. IS. IT. I’ve read some great stuff that takes place in airports and on airplanes, and if it weren’t for airports, we wouldn’t have this. And I can’t imagine a world without this:

But if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary takes place in the airport (say, a spectacular explosion or a particularly gruelling inspection in secondary) or on the plane (say, a spectacular explosion or Leslie Nielsen is on the flight and he explodes), then you can leave it all out. Trust me. Seriously. Just put her on the plane.