Between Flights is a deeply human collection of reflections on leadership, life, and the unseen moments that shape who we become.
Written in the pauses between airports, meetings, and milestones, this isn’t a playbook or a how-to guide; it’s a companion for those navigating ambition, identity, creativity, and change.
With lyrical honesty and grounded insight, Wendy Walker explores the realities leaders rarely speak burnout and belonging, self-doubt and courage, the relentless pace of modern work, and the strength it takes to pause. Whether you’re a seasoned executive, a creative thinker, or simply someone navigating the in-between, Between Flights invites you to find clarity, connection, and the courage to lead from exactly where you are.
I am the author of The Secret Service, Stories Out of Omarie, The Sea-Rabbit, or, The Artist of Life, Blue Fire, My Man and Other Critical Fictions, The Camperdown Elm, and most recently, Sexual Stealing. I am a co-founder of The Writhing Society, a group that practices writing with constraints. My drawings are in the Flat Files of the Kentler International Drawing Space in Red Hook, Brooklyn. My website is www.wendywalker.com.
Between Flights is a reflective leadership memoir in fragments, written out of airports, late-night flights, and the exhausted spaces in between a demanding career and a fully lived personal life. Author Wendy Walker builds the book less as a manual than as a series of honest landings, circling around ambition, empathy, confidence, burnout, identity, grief, patience, and the quiet recalibrations that keep a person from drifting too far from herself. What stayed with me most was the governing image of the book itself: that leadership is often shaped not in the loud moments of performance, but in the pauses, the delays, the window-seat silences where the truth finally catches up.
What I admired most is that Walker writes from inside the strain, not from some polished summit beyond it. When she describes opening her Notes app after a text from her son and typing, “This pace isn’t sustainable,” the book declares its emotional contract immediately: it’s going to tell the truth, even when the truth is tender or inconvenient. I found that candor appealing. The best sections have a lived grain to them, especially when she moves from abstraction into scene, like the quarterly review where empathy with a frightened sales leader changes the whole conversation, or the chapter on ambition where she refuses the noisy, conventional version of success in favor of something steadier and more interior. I also liked the book’s generosity. It doesn’t sneer at vulnerability or worship hardness. It keeps returning, with real conviction, to the idea that presence matters more than perfection, and that landed with me.
Walker trusts her images and lets them do the work, and I found that to be a strength. The aviation motif gives the reflections shape and lift. “The window seat perspective,” “holding pattern,” “landing gear,” “cabin pressure,” these metaphors create a quiet coherence across the book, and they suit its meditative temperament. I was especially moved by the chapters that widen leadership beyond performance into emotional weather: the heartbreak of a promotion that vanishes, the need to land a season well before taking off again, the insistence that emotion is not the enemy of judgment but one of its instruments.
Between Flights is less interested in teaching leadership than in humanizing it, and I think that’s exactly why it works. It’s warm without being soft, thoughtful without becoming abstract, and personal without collapsing into self-display. I’d recommend it to readers who are carrying a lot, especially leaders, working parents, women in senior roles, and anyone in a season of reassessment who wants a book that feels like calm company rather than instruction from a podium. It’s a graceful, intelligent reminder that sometimes the most important course correction begins in stillness.