Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:


“So this is the getaway car?”  Jack had come up with some crazy ideas in the past, but this was bordering on the best so far.

“It’s part of a diabolical plan.  Who would suspect anyone dressed in tourist gear going for a tram ride, after pulling a heist?”

I thought about it for a minute, trying to find the list of negatives, but there were none.

“He’s come up with worse,” Al muttered, “Like that time in Stuttgart.”

A bus, whose route ended at a police station.  We were lucky it was a terminus and so much rush hour confusion.

“Where does it go?” I asked.

“Haven’t got that far.”

I shook my head.  As usual, he hadn’t thought it through.  “Then find out and then tell me what the plan is.”


What’s said cannot be unsaid

You know the moment the words leave your mouth that you have said the wrong thing.

It might be exactly what you were thinking, it might be said before you had time to process what you were going to say, but it’s the look on the face of the recipient that tells the story.

Oh, my God, I shouldn’t have said that!

Your initial reaction is to try and say it’s not what you meant.

Generally, these horrible mistakes come at a point where emotions are running high, and there is an element of truth in the statement, and one that the recipient is aware of, and doesn’t need reminding of.

Not by their best friend, partner or closest relative.

Would it be better if you were not one of those three?


But it isn’t.  Anger, followed by tears, followed by silence.

This is where the statement, time heals all wounds, is brought into play, and you hope that it is true.

Interesting subject, is it not, for the opening gambit of a story?


Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

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“You go straight ahead, I’ll take the side street and we should catch him before he escapes.”

“You go straight ahead.”

Jenkins was about to prove why he should have been left back at the base.  It was not the first time he displayed insubordination.

“I gave an order, Jenkins.  Move out.”

He didn’t.  He stood in front of me, truculence written all over his face.

“I’ll go,” Wallace said.  “We don’t have time for this.”

I shrugged.  He was right.  Bently was getting away while we dithered.

To Jenkins, “You take the side street.  I’ll back Wallace up.”

He seemed more at ease and left.

I’d taken no more than ten steps, Wallace just in sight ahead of me, when I heard the shot, loud and clear, followed by an echo off the close walls.

I double back, carefully headed up the side street, till I came across Jenkins’ body.

If only …

The art of marketing, maybe

The Twitterverse can be a remarkable marketing tool if one can find the right hashtags, and a simple, relatively free, promotional tool.

One such promotional too was a service called CoPromote.  It was based on the idea that you could gain distribution credits to the value of the number of Twitter followers you had, each time you were willing to share another user’s tweet.

The other premise was that you could select categories of tweets you wanted to share, and select the same for your own tweets, in other words targeting a select market.

It worked.

It disappeared one day, and it most disappointing.

Recently a similar promotional tool, CreatorCollabs appeared, and it was CoPromote with a different name.

I thought, yea, it’s back.

My most recent ‘boost’ as they are called it was potentially redistributed to over 800,000 other targeted twitterites.

How good is that?

Sadly, it’s gone again, disappearing into the ether, and a non-responsive website.

Oh well, I’ll just have to wait until it reappears with a new name!


A biography in how many words?

Since Twitter moved from 140 characters to 280 characters, it’s like being a new lease on life.


Still agonizing over what constitutes a ‘killer’ bio.

So much so that I have been trawling through thousands of other bio’s trying to understand what makes a good one.

Quite a lot preface theirs with Dad to or Mom to x wonderful children.  I think that goes without saying, so moving on.

Quite a lot advertise services using hashtags which is a great idea, perhaps in the hope people are looking for said services and will follow them, then to DM them with more information.

I haven’t quite mastered the art of doing that, so I’ll let that one slide for the moment.

But …

That brings up the relevance of using hashtags in the bio.  That gives me a bit more scope to make it to the point.

A quick search of relevant hashtags reveals:

writer, author, thriller, mystery, adventure, writing etc.

All are useful but it doesn’t really carry any pulling power.  We need something that grabs the reader’s attention and do it in the shortest, most succinct manner.

I am a writer, a wordsmith, who, I was once told, swallowed a dictionary.  But, in the light of the current task, you’d think it would be just a ‘walk in the park’ instead of the proverbial ‘pain in the neck’.

Perhaps I could compose a riddle that comes back to the answer of who I am, but who has the time to sit and work it out.

I think that might be a little pretentious.

So, back to square one.

At the moment all I have is ‘aspiring writer’.

It’s not possible that’s enough, is it?

Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

2013-06-25 19.23.22

“Now you’re sure you got the instructions right?  This is the shortcut?”

Jim looked one way, then the other, and noticed, as I had, there were several other options available.

“Let me look at the map.”

What map.  There was no map that I’d seen when the boss was giving the orders.  It was simply a matter of, ‘go down here, cross there, go about 20 yards, then you’ll see the shortcut’.

I remember Jim asking, ‘what’s at the end of it?’.

It elicited a very terse reply.  ‘More water’.

Jim unfolded the map, expecting like I was, there’d be some lines to follow.

Nothing.  Just a map.  It didn’t even say, ‘you are here’, with a big red arrow.

I shrugged.  Too late now.  “Let’s go.”


Popularity, or the lack of it

I’ve been sitting around looking at several blank pieces of paper, thinking about how to become more popular or make a significant splash in the popularity stakes without having to sell my soul.

Amazingly I’m having a simultaneous conversation with my grandchildren about trending videos on YouTube, and it seems author interviews aren’t going to cut it.

When my eldest granddaughter listed the type of videos that are trending, I thought what hope has the rest of the world have.


Who knows what the next trend in Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or YouTube might be.  I might just sit down and write a script of the interview that will, at that moment in time, be just what a million people want to see.

I’m sure I’m crazy enough to fit in because I’m not your average author.  I write more than one book at a time, in fact about five, I get my characters confused, and it takes about three re-writes to track down the idiosyncrasies, and worse, all the main characters are weird versions of me, so I play out as many different lives as I like.

Imagine what that would be like in an interview.

It’s been done before, I know, but so have a lot of other things, and people rarely get tired of good old-fashioned fun.


Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

2013-03-10 15.27.44

“He said we were to meet at the bottom car park, and that’s it, right there in front of you, the bottom car park.  And no Davo.  As usual.”

Fred didn’t like Davo.  He didn’t trust him and it was not without good reason.  He’d let us down more than once.

“He’ll be here this time,” I said, in my most soothing tone.

Fred was on the edge of a breakdown.

“What were his exact instructions?”  Maybe there had been a miscommunication.

“He said lower carpark, Turoa.”

And there was the problem.  We were standing all alone at Whakapapa.


Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

2013-06-17 09.16.24

“Are you sure Dave said to meet him at the second statue outside ‘the’ building?”

“That’s what the text message said.  I can show you.”  Fred pulled out his cell phone and started pressing buttons.

“Little good that’ll do.  Have you seen how many statues are here that could fit the description?”

Literally any one of a dozen, I thought.

Like I had a minute or so before, Will turned through a 360-degree arc, but at the end of it, he added a groan.  “He’s playing games again, isn’t he?”

And not for the first time.

Being inspired, maybe

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:


I was sitting back taking in the last of the afternoon sun, despite the fact it was only 15 degrees.  It was debatable whether it was a haze or low clouds that were beginning to obscure the mountains, and would no doubt obscure the building on the other side of the lake, where our target was hiding out.

Joe, lying flat on the rock next to me was watching him through high powered binoculars.

Thinking he was in an invulnerable position, our target had made the mistake of coming out into the open, not realizing that it was possible to see him from where we were.

I’d thought that too until Joe informed me otherwise.  And had the photographic proof to go with it.

Now, all we had to do was get there without him knowing we were coming.  Logistical was still working on it, a para drop, overland, or through the mountains.

I didn’t like any of the options, but my suggestion of going in by submarine had fallen, unsurprisingly, on deaf ears.

As for now, all we could do was wait.