One crazy weekend, back when I was a member of the Young and the Wreckless (nope, not the soap opera), I jumped out of a helicopter just to say I did it and to know how it felt.
It's quite obvious I survived, but how loud did I knock on death's door? The first two jumps out of a perfectly good helicopter were flawless. However, the third jump hit a snag, which ended my career as a skydiver.
Oh, no loss really. I never wanted to do it for a living, just wanted the experience of hanging around in the sky for a few minutes.
Writing about a young girl held captive who defended herself by shooting her captor with his own gun led me to a shooting range just so I could describe what a 357 magnum felt like when shooting it. The safety course cost me $75 (which meant ramen noodles for a while), but no loss because I gained the experience.
There are so many things I have done, will do, and dream of doing just to make my writing credible. Sometimes those feelings are too real for comfort, other times I feel I haven't reached deep enough to enable my writing that level of injustice, betrayal, pain, and anguish that writing a burning success requires.
until then...I need a job, but writing a resume is worse than writing query letters to agents. Query letters are about someone else's life of glamor, suspense, adventure, pain, etc. Resumes are...about me.