Author: aloysius5

Over the years, I have traveled extensively and kept journals, with the idea that one day all of those places would become locations in books. Notebooks filled with odd characters, people and incidents observed, and whole tracts of stories written when the on the spot inspiration has been a driving force. All of this is the basis of the first three novels, Sunday In New York, set, of course, in New York, probably my favorite city in the world, “Echoes From The Past’ equally set in New York, Brooklyn Heights and Philadelphia. The third, The Devil You Don’t, travels through Europe, starting in Geneva, moving to Rome, then Sorrento, and then to Venice. Now, my passion to write is fuelled by travel and fine dining. When I take a break from these, I get to torment my three wonderful grandchildren whom I actively encourage to read as much as they can, and more recently to also write. As for almost every other writer, I would not be able to do any of this without my wife who has put up with my moodiness, the times when I'm locked away in a room trying to push out another 2,000 words, and yet despite everything still puts up with me. I wish I could say the same for our cat. Alas, I am still trying to work out how to be his friend!

What I learned about writing – History is what you make of it

What happened yesterday is history, but that’s not necessarily how we view what is history and what isn’t.

Similarly what is and what isn’t history is usually decided on by academics, because history texts that are used in schools are not written by ‘the man in the street’ authors. They’re usually university types who specialise in a particular field, or specialise section of history.

Even then one doubts that what is written is not a consensus of a panel.

So, when we talk about re-writing history, that takes a very brave bunch of people who want to buck the norm.

Our history, that which was taught when I went to school,. about our own country, Australia, started in 1770. Some brave soul tried to say it began earlier than that, before Captain Cook and the British arrived, out up a flag pole, and declared it belonged to Britain, like in 1606 when the Dutch explorer Willem Janszoon landed on the Cape York peninsula, only it wasn’t called that then.

And he might have been as surprised as Captain Cook that there were people here to observe their arrival. Yes, people had been living in this country for tens of thousands of years before the Europeans arrived.

But that was not what we were taught. No, Captain Cook, 1770, the a fleet of ships in 1788, and off we run as a new country, and a dumping ground for Britain’s convicts. Our history starts there, and then meanders through time, dividing the country up into states, having famous explorers like Burke and Wills, and Blaxland, Wentworth, and Lawson, Hume and Hovell.

And we commemorate all these people and those who were in charge over the years, with names of states, cities, rivers, mountains, everything under the sun. You’ve only got to glance at the list of hundreds of these forefathers and explorers to see just how many places in this country were named after them.

No heed was taken of what they may have been called before because no one really understood the languages of the first people who lived here. And they never seem to rate as a matter of study for us children back then.

Now, as people have begun to realise our history goes way, way back, and that there should be a nod to those inhabitants, they are considering re-writing some of our history to incorporate these people. And change the names of places to their original. A famous instance of recent renaming is of Ayers Rock, now called Uluru.

Even then, Australian History didn’t rate very highly, and I have to say, as a child at school 50 odd years ago, I learned more about the British Empire/Commonwealth, and about the English kings and queens, than we did about our own Governor Generals, Prime Ministers and State Premiers.

Could I tell you the name of our first Prime Minister? No. I can say when Australia became Australia, yes. 1901. Can I tell you the first King of England? Yes, William the Conqueror in 1066. There were kings before that but they only ruled of parts of England.

But over the years since I have read the odd book of Australian History but for some reason it never quite seems as colourful or as interesting as that of England or Scotland, or even some of the European countries.

Now, since I’ve been reading about what’s happening in the United States I have begin to take an interest in American history, and it, too, seems to suffer the same problems we have with ours, a bunch of academics decided what it was, and what it would not include, and then there is this thing called the 1619 project.

Wow, that seems to have stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Can’t wait to see what happens next.

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 294

Day 294 – Observation

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The Art of Extreme Observation: What Georges Perec’s 60-Page Parisian Stakeout Can Teach Every Writer

Imagine sitting at a cafe table in the heart of Paris for three consecutive days. You aren’t writing a sweeping historical fiction novel, inventing dramatic plot twists, or even checking your phone. Instead, you are simply acting as a human security camera—writing down the make of every passing car, the colour of a pigeon’s feathers, the exact time a woman in a green coat walks by, and the hum of conversation drifting from the bar.

This isn’t a mindfulness exercise; it was a radical literary experiment.

Over a full October weekend in 1974, French avant-garde writer and filmmaker Georges Perec posted up in Paris’s Place Saint-Sulpice. Armed with notebooks, he attempted to exhaust his subject completely. The result? An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris, a fascinating 60-page essay that redefines how we look at the world around us.

So, is this something every writer should do? And more importantly, why should you waste an entire weekend staring at ordinary life when you could be drafting your next masterpiece?

Let’s dive into the radical genius of Perec’s experiment and explore why hyper-observation is the secret weapon every writer needs.

What Did Georges Perec Actually Do?

Georges Perec was a member of Oulipo (Ouvroir de littérature potentielle), a loose gathering of French-speaking writers and mathematicians who enjoyed creating works using constrained writing techniques.

For his Place Saint-Sulpice experiment, Perec’s constraint was simple: record the infratrivial—the ordinary, the trivial, the background noise that people usually ignore.

Over Thursday, October 18, Friday, October 19, and Saturday, October 20, 1974, Perec sat at various cafes (Café de la Mairie, Tabac Saint-Sulpice) and noted:

  • The weather shifting.
  • Buses arriving and departing (Route 86, Route 63).
  • Dogs being walked.
  • The changing shadows of the Saint-Sulpice church.
  • Fragments of overheard dialogue.

He wasn’t looking for a murder mystery to unfold. He wasn’t waiting for a celebrity sighting. He was deliberately focusing on what happens when nothing special happens.

As Perec wrote in the introduction:

“What happens every day and recurs every day: the banal, the quotidian, the obvious, the common, the ordinary, the infra-ordinary, the background noise, the habitual? How to account for it, how to question it, how to describe it?”

Is This Something Every Writer Should Do?

Let’s be honest: you probably shouldn’t spend 60 pages detailing the license plates of cars in your local strip mall today. Most writers are already strapped for time, balancing day jobs, families, and actual writing deadlines.

However, every writer should adopt the mindset of Perec’s experiment.

Whether you write literary fiction, sci-fi world-building, high-octane thrillers, or creative nonfiction, doing a localised “exhaustion” exercise completely transforms your relationship with reality and your craft. Here is why you need to try it at least once.

1. It Cures “Writer’s Blindness”

Writers are professional daydreamers. We live inside our heads, plotting, planning, and worrying about character arcs. Because of this, we suffer from what psychologists call inattentional blindness—we stop seeing the actual physical world around us.

When you force yourself to sit still and record mundane details for an hour (let alone a whole weekend), the world snaps back into high definition. You notice how sunlight hits a cracked pavement, the precise way an elderly man adjusts his scarf, or the nervous tic of a barista dropping a ceramic cup. These are the sensory details that turn flat, generic writing into immersive, breathing fiction.

2. It Teaches You the Power of Constraint

In a world of infinite possibilities (blank Google Docs, endless plot directions), writers often freeze. Perec’s experiment proves that limitations breed creativity.

By restricting yourself to a single street corner, park bench, or coffee shop for a defined period, you remove the paralysis of choice. You stop worrying about what to write and focus entirely on how to capture what is right in front of you.

3. It Deepens Your Understanding of Pacing and Rhythm

Read An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris, and you’ll notice the text has a rhythmic, hypnotic quality. It mimics the natural ebb and flow of daily life—slow lulls in the afternoon, rushes of commuter traffic, quiet evenings.

By practising extreme observation, you learn the natural cadences of the real world. When you translate this into storytelling, your narrative pacing improves. You learn when to speed up a scene (like morning rush hour) and when to let the atmosphere linger (like a quiet Sunday afternoon).

4. It Retrains Your Brain to Value the “Infratrivial”

The best stories aren’t always about explosions, dramatic breakups, or epic fantasy quests. Often, the most resonant moments in literature happen in the spaces in between: a conversation over lukewarm soup, the silence in a car after an argument, the way someone stirs their coffee.

Perec teaches us to pay attention to the background noise. As writers, our job is to make readers care about the ordinary. If you can make a 60-page essay about a mundane Parisian square engaging, you can make any scene in your novel compelling.

How to Do Your Own “Perec Weekend” (Or Afternoon)

You don’t need to fly to Paris to channel Georges Perec. You can run your own micro-version of this experiment this very weekend. Here is how:

  1. Pick a Mundane Location: Choose somewhere unremarkable—a local diner, a subway platform, a hotel lobby, or a bench in a suburban park. Avoid hyper-stimulating tourist hotspots.
  2. Bring a Notebook (Not a Phone): Put your phone on Do Not Disturb. Use a physical notebook and pen. Digital devices invite distraction; paper demands presence.
  3. Commit to a Timeframe: Start small. Give yourself one uninterrupted hour. If you’re feeling ambitious, try three hours.
  4. Record Without Filtering: Write down everything. Do not judge whether it’s “interesting” enough. Write the mundane details: “12:15 PM. A pigeon with a missing toe lands near a discarded crisp packet. A woman in a yellow jacket walks past, looking at her watch. The hum of an idling delivery van.”
  5. Review and Mine: Later, read back through your notes. Highlight the phrases, sensory triggers, and micro-moments that jump out at you. Drop these observations into your current work-in-progress to anchor your characters in a vivid, tangible reality.

Final Thoughts

Georges Perec didn’t write An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris to give us a plot blueprint; he wrote it to wake us up.

As writers, we are chroniclers of the human experience. But we cannot write about humanity if we aren’t willing to watch it—truly watch it—in its most unpolished, unscripted, and ordinary moments.

So, pack a notebook, find a bench, and start noticing. You might just surprise yourself with what you find when you stop looking for a story and let the world come to you.

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Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Zagreb

Beyond Ban Jelačić: 5 Hidden Gems That Define the Real Zagreb

Zagreb. The name conjures images of the iconic red roofs of the Upper Town, the vibrant café culture of the Lower Town, and the mandatory selfies by the Funicular. It’s a beautifully manageable European capital, often praised for its charm and easy walkability.

But for the seasoned traveller—the one who seeks the unvarnished truth of a city—the real magic often lies where the tourist map runs thin.

If you’ve already checked off the Museum of Broken Relationships and sipped your coffee on Cvjetni Trg, it’s time to venture deeper. We’ve compiled the five essential experiences that will take you off the beaten path and into the authentic heart of Zagreb.

1. Descend into History: The Grič Tunnel

While many tourists stick to the surface, locals know that a fascinating, slightly eerie piece of history lies just beneath the cobblestones of the Upper Town.

The Grič Tunnel is a 350-meter-long passage originally constructed during World War II as an air-raid shelter. For decades, it was mostly forgotten, dark, and damp. Today, it has been beautifully renovated and repurposed as a public walkway, linking Radićeva Street (near the main square) to the other side of Grič Hill (near Mesnička Street).

It’s often used for fashion shows, art installations, and even the spectacular Advent in Zagreb Christmas market features sections here. But even on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, walking through its vast, vaulted halls offers a cool, dramatic escape and a poignant reminder of Zagreb’s turbulent past.

  • Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): Many tourists assume it’s a construction site or just a side alley, missing the entrance entirely.
  • Insider Tip: While there are several entrances, try the one on Radićeva Street for the full dramatic walk-through experience.

2. A Silent Architectural Masterpiece: Mirogoj Cemetery

Admittedly, the word “cemetery” might not immediately sound like a key tourist destination, but Mirogoj is unlike any other burial ground. Designed in 1876 by the famed architect Hermann Bollé, Mirogoj is less a cemetery and more an open-air art gallery and park.

What defines the space are the massive, sweeping neo-Renaissance arcades clad in green ivy, housing the tombs of Croatia’s most influential figures, from writers and artists to politicians. The central dome and the rows of elegant statues create an atmosphere of serene, melancholy beauty.

This is a space that speaks volumes about Croatian history, artistry, and respect for the departed. It’s quiet, reflective, and stunningly photogenic—a short bus ride from the city centre, but a world away from the city noise.

  • Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): It requires a slight detour (Bus 106 from Kaptol), discouraging day-trippers focused solely on the centre.
  • Best Time to Visit: Early morning or late afternoon, when the sun casts dramatic shadows across the ivy-covered arcades.

3. The Unassuming Heart of Local Life: Trešnjevka Market

To truly feel the pulse of local Zagreb life, you need to leave the polished centre and head west to the bustling district of Trešnjevka. While Dolac Market is mandatory viewing, Trešnjevački plac (Trešnjevka Market) is where real Zagreb families shop.

This market is large, chaotic, affordable, and incredibly authentic. You won’t just find your typical kumice (market grandmothers) selling produce; you’ll find everything from hardware stalls and used clothing to cheap, traditional dining halls (gableci) serving hearty lunch deals.

Wander the indoor stalls filled with vintage clothing and household trinkets, or browse the outdoor stands overflowing with local cheeses, fresh meats, and flowers. This is the perfect place to grab a ridiculously inexpensive lunch and observe the daily rhythm of the city’s working class.

  • Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): Located outside the traditional tourist triangle, it requires using the tram system (Trams 3, 9, 12).
  • What to Try: Look for a gablec (daily lunch) sign—usually a simple, filling meal like goulash or stuffed peppers for under €7.

4. Find the Inventors’ Spirit: The Technical Museum Nikola Tesla

While art and history museums abound in Zagreb, the Technical Museum often gets overlooked in favor of flashier attractions. This is a mistake, especially for those interested in science, industry, and the incredible contributions of Croatian minds.

Named after the world-famous inventor Nikola Tesla, this museum is a fantastic throwback, filled with retro industrial machinery, firefighting equipment, and displays dedicated to engineering breakthroughs. Highlights include a full-scale coal mine model (which you can walk through!), vintage trams, and a dedicated room honouring Tesla himself.

It’s hands-on, slightly dusty in a charming way, and a beautiful testament to Croatia’s industrial history and inventive spirit.

  • Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): It isn’t located directly in the central museum quadrant, requiring a short tram ride south of the main train station.
  • Must-See: Check the schedule for the planetarium shows. They are highly rated and offer an excellent break from walking.

5. Escape to the Peak: Medvednica Nature Park

If you feel the need for fresh mountain air and stunning city views that rival those from Lotrščak Tower, hop on a bus or drive toward the northern edge of the city and ascend the Medvednica mountain range.

Medvednica, with its highest peak, Sljeme, is Zagreb’s essential backyard playground. It offers miles of hiking/biking trails, the historic Medvedgrad (a medieval fortified town), and, most importantly, numerous traditional mountain huts (planinarski domovi) serving classic, hearty Croatian mountain food.

Spend a day hiking to one of the lookouts, explore the Veternica cave, or just drive up for lunch at the top. The views are spectacular, and the atmosphere is entirely different from the busy city below.

  • Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): Requires dedicated travel time and is not a quick walk-by attraction.
  • What to Try: Order štrukli (baked cheese pastry) at a mountain hut after a long walk—it’s the ultimate Croatian comfort food, and it tastes better high up in the woods.

The Reward of the Detour

Zagreb is a city built on layers of history, culture, and architecture. While the central squares offer undeniable beauty, the true reward comes when you step off the main path.

These five spots provide a window into the life that sustains the city, whether that’s the silent dignity of a historic park, the daily bustle of a working market, or the rugged landscape that surrounds it.

So, put away the polished guidebook, grab a tram, and go discover the real, complex, and captivating Zagreb.

In a word: Blank

Yes, I’m drawing a blank, which means I have no idea

It seems that I do this a lot these days, perhaps one of the perils of being a writer

But…

Using blank in a story doesn’t necessarily convey the antagonist is clueless, more likely he or she just used one in a gun, put there by a person who didn’t want to get shot.

No, still drawing a blank on this one.

A blank space means there’s nothing in it, and you see a lot of these in crosswords and sudoku, even when the user has been toiling for hours

I’m thinking anyone who met me might misinterpret my blank expression, well, it’s not too expressive in the first place

Perhaps before the coin becomes a coin; it is a piece of blank metal to begin with.  How good would it be to get a one-sided coin, that’d be worth a lot?

And the very worst description of blank; having a blank piece of paper in front of you, and you really are drawing a blank!

‘What Sets Us Apart’ – A beta reader’s view

There’s something to be said for a story that starts like a James Bond movie, throwing you straight in the deep end, a perfect way of getting to know the main character, David, or is that Alistair?

A retired spy, well, not so much a spy as a retired errand boy, David’s rather wry description of his talents, and a woman that most men would give their left arm for, not exactly the ideal couple, but there is a spark in a meeting that may or may not have been a setup.

But as the story progressed, the question I kept asking myself was why he’d bother.

And, page after unrelenting page, you find out.

Susan is exactly the sort of woman to pique his interest.  Then, inexplicably, she disappears.  That might have been the end of it, but Prendergast, that shadowy enigma, David’s ex-boss who loves playing games with real people, gives him an ultimatum: find her or come back to work.

Nothing like an offer that’s a double-edged sword!

A dragon for a mother, a sister he didn’t know about, Susan’s BFF who is not what she seems or a friend indeed, and Susan’s father, who, up till David meets her, couldn’t be less interested, his nemesis proves to be the impossible dream, and he’s always just that one step behind.

When the rollercoaster finally came to a halt, and I could start breathing again, it was an ending that was completely unexpected.

I’ve been told there’s a sequel in the works.

Bring it on!

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The book can be purchased here:  http://amzn.to/2Eryfth

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Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Bratislava

Beyond the Castle: 5 Offbeat Adventures in Bratislava You Won’t Find on Every Postcard

Bratislava. The name itself conjures images of a charming Old Town, the majestic castle perched above the Danube, and perhaps a quirky statue or two. And while these icons are undeniably wonderful, there’s a whole other side to Slovakia’s capital waiting to be discovered – a side that reveals the city’s true character, its rich history, and its vibrant local life, far from the well-trodden tourist paths.

If you’re ready to peel back the layers and experience Bratislava like a true explorer, here are five “road less travelled” adventures that promise unique memories and a deeper connection to this captivating city.

1. Ascend to Slavin Memorial: History, Views, and Serenity

While Bratislava Castle offers fantastic views, for a truly poignant and panoramic experience, head to Slavin Memorial. This colossal war memorial and cemetery honours the Soviet soldiers who fell liberating Bratislava during World War II. It’s a powerful, solemn place, but also one offering some of the most breathtaking, unobstructed views of the city, the Danube, and even the distant Austrian Alps.

Why it’s less travelled: Many tourists stick to the immediate Old Town. Slavin requires a short, scenic bus ride or a determined uphill walk, making it feel like a discovered secret.

What to expect: A grand staircase leading to an obelisk crowned with a triumphant soldier statue. Spend time walking among the graves, decorated with red stars, and then simply soak in the epic vista. It’s a place for reflection and stunning photography, especially at sunset.

How to get there: Take a local bus (such as number 203 or 207) from Hodžovo námestie (Presidential Palace) or take a taxi/ride-sharing service.

2. Explore the Small Carpathian Wine Route: A Taste of Local Tradition

Did you know Bratislava is the gateway to a historic wine region? Just a short drive or train ride from the city lies the Small Carpathian Wine Route (Malokarpatská Vínna Cesta), a picturesque trail dotted with charming winemaking villages like Pezinok and Modra. This region has been producing wine for centuries, and it’s a delightful escape from urban life.

Why it’s less travelled: While some tour operators offer trips, many independent travellers miss this authentic experience, opting for day trips to neighbouring capitals instead.

What to expect: Hop on a local train to Pezinok or Modra, and wander through their quaint streets. Look for traditional wine cellars (“vínne pivnice”) offering tastings of local varietals like Grüner Veltliner, Frankovka Modrá (Blaufränkisch), and Müller-Thurgau. Many wineries offer delicious regional snacks to accompany your tasting. If visiting in autumn, look out for the “burčiak,” a partially fermented young wine – a local delicacy!

How to get there: Take a regional train from Bratislava Hlavná Stanica (Main Station) to Pezinok or Modra. The journey takes around 20-30 minutes.

3. Discover the Danubiana Meulensteen Art Museum: Art on the Water

For a dose of contemporary art in an utterly unique setting, make your way to the Danubiana Meulensteen Art Museum. Located on a peninsula in the Danube River, about 15km south of Bratislava, this modern art gallery is a masterpiece in itself, offering stunning architecture, thought-provoking exhibitions, and incredible river views.

Why it’s less travelled: Its location outside the immediate city centre means it’s often overlooked by visitors with limited time.

What to expect: A captivating journey through modern and contemporary art, primarily by Slovak and international artists. The museum’s design allows natural light to flood the spaces, and the outdoor sculpture park, with its whimsical pieces set against the river backdrop, is a joy to explore. You can even enjoy a coffee with a view from their café.

How to get there: The most scenic (and recommended) way is by a special tourist boat that departs from Fajnorovo nábrežie near the Old Town (check seasonal schedules). Alternatively, take a local bus (number 90) from Nový Most (UFO Bridge) or a taxi/ride-sharing service.

4. Hike to Kamzík TV Tower & Koliba: Nature, Adventure, and Views

Escape the city hustle and immerse yourself in nature by heading up to the forested hills of Koliba, home to the iconic Kamzík TV Tower. This area is a beloved recreational spot for locals, offering hiking trails, a bobsled track, and, of course, the observation deck of the TV tower for breathtaking panoramic views.

Why it’s less travelled: Many tourists don’t realise such an extensive green space, complete with a TV tower offering great views, is so accessible from the city.

What to expect: Take the historic Kamzík cable car (Železná studnička – Koliba) up the hill, or hike one of the many well-marked trails. Once at the top, you can ascend the TV tower for 360-degree vistas (there’s also a rotating restaurant at the top if you’re feeling fancy!). In winter, it’s a popular spot for sledding, and in warmer months, you’ll find families picnicking and enjoying the fresh air.

How to get there: Take tram number 3 or 9 to the “Železná studnička” stop, then walk or take the cable car up to Koliba. Alternatively, bus number 203 or 207 will get you closer to the TV Tower area.

5. Dive into Local Life at Miletičova Tržnica (Market): A Sensory Feast

For an authentic slice of everyday Bratislava life, head to Miletičova Tržnica, the city’s largest outdoor and indoor market. This isn’t a quaint artisan market; it’s a bustling, vibrant hub where locals come to buy fresh produce, clothes, household goods, and indulge in hearty Slovak street food.

Why it’s less travelled: It’s located outside the immediate city centre in a residential area, away from the typical tourist routes.

What to expect: A kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells! Browse stalls overflowing with seasonal fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and smoked meats. Discover quirky fashion, electronics, and souvenirs. But the real highlight is the food: grab a langoš (fried dough with garlic, cheese, and sour cream), a pecené kura (roasted chicken), or a classic halušky (potato dumplings) from one of the many unassuming food stands. It’s an affordable and delicious way to sample local flavours.

How to get there: Take a tram (e.g., number 8 or 9) or bus (e.g., number 50 or 53) to the “Miletičova” stop.

Bratislava is a city that rewards those who dare to venture beyond the obvious. These five experiences offer a taste of its diverse history, natural beauty, artistic spirit, and authentic local charm. So, next time you find yourself in Slovakia’s captivating capital, step off the well-worn path and create your own unique Bratislava story. You won’t regret it!

PI Walthenson’s second case – A case of finding the ‘Flying Dutchman’.

Known only to a few, there is a legend that a ship named the ‘Flying Dutchman’ left Nazi Germany in the last weeks of the war and set sail for America, escorted by U-boats, under a different name. Aboard was a trove of treasure and gold worth a ‘king’s ransom’.

It was said that it had been sent to a group of American Nazis to create the Fourth Reich at an appropriate time. Over the years, many expeditions off the coast had searched, but found no trace of the vessel or the treasure.

In other words, it was just a legend created to boost tourism.

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Fast forward to 2024. Our intrepid private detective, Harry Walthenson, overhears a conversation at Grand Central Station. It was the oddness of the message that caught his attention. An investigation turned up nothing out of the ordinary, and he thinks no more about it.

Then Harry is kidnapped, interrogated, and asked questions over and over about a date and a place, why he went there, and when he could not give satisfactory answers, he was beaten half to death and left for dead on a rubbish heap. He was lucky that it was a living space for homeless men; otherwise, he would have died.

In the aftermath, he once again gives it no more thought.

…

After resolving his first case successfully, there’s no rest. Harry’s angry mother comes to his office and demands that he find out where his father has gone. She believes he has run off with a mistress, not for the first time.

Perhaps it was not the wisest decision she has made, because Harry promises to investigate, and adds that she might not like what he finds.

He soon discovered he does not like what he finds, that his father’s friends, a cabal formed at University, have two who are his mother’s current lovers, and another, a criminal blackmailing his father.

Felicity, now his partner, working on a different case, and trying to get answers, uncovers a crime family involved in guarding a disused warehouse on the docks, where she believes Harry had been taken for interrogation, and subsequently dumped nearby to die.

Why are they up to? What is so important that the empty warehouse needs guarding? Who is employing them?

Harry, following up on the death of the blackmailer, traces his death back to an enforcer employed by his grandfather. His mother’s grandfather was a pre-war industrialist who made his fortune in war munitions and shipbuilding.

He was also a member of the American Nazi party.

When Harry also discovers a logbook belonging to a so-called wartime Liberty ship the “Paul Revere” in brackets ‘Freiheitskämpfer’, hidden by his father, and written in a code that is not readily identifiable.

It is no longer a matter of a father who has run off with his mistress; it is a very frightened man in fear of his life, running from a group who will stop at nothing to get the logbook back. And when Harry discovers a family connection to the group, it becomes a race against time to decode the log and find his father before his grandfather does.

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Coming soon: Harry Walthenson’s new adventure – A case of finding the ‘Flying Dutchman’

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 294

Day 294 – Observation

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The Art of Extreme Observation: What Georges Perec’s 60-Page Parisian Stakeout Can Teach Every Writer

Imagine sitting at a cafe table in the heart of Paris for three consecutive days. You aren’t writing a sweeping historical fiction novel, inventing dramatic plot twists, or even checking your phone. Instead, you are simply acting as a human security camera—writing down the make of every passing car, the colour of a pigeon’s feathers, the exact time a woman in a green coat walks by, and the hum of conversation drifting from the bar.

This isn’t a mindfulness exercise; it was a radical literary experiment.

Over a full October weekend in 1974, French avant-garde writer and filmmaker Georges Perec posted up in Paris’s Place Saint-Sulpice. Armed with notebooks, he attempted to exhaust his subject completely. The result? An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris, a fascinating 60-page essay that redefines how we look at the world around us.

So, is this something every writer should do? And more importantly, why should you waste an entire weekend staring at ordinary life when you could be drafting your next masterpiece?

Let’s dive into the radical genius of Perec’s experiment and explore why hyper-observation is the secret weapon every writer needs.

What Did Georges Perec Actually Do?

Georges Perec was a member of Oulipo (Ouvroir de littérature potentielle), a loose gathering of French-speaking writers and mathematicians who enjoyed creating works using constrained writing techniques.

For his Place Saint-Sulpice experiment, Perec’s constraint was simple: record the infratrivial—the ordinary, the trivial, the background noise that people usually ignore.

Over Thursday, October 18, Friday, October 19, and Saturday, October 20, 1974, Perec sat at various cafes (Café de la Mairie, Tabac Saint-Sulpice) and noted:

  • The weather shifting.
  • Buses arriving and departing (Route 86, Route 63).
  • Dogs being walked.
  • The changing shadows of the Saint-Sulpice church.
  • Fragments of overheard dialogue.

He wasn’t looking for a murder mystery to unfold. He wasn’t waiting for a celebrity sighting. He was deliberately focusing on what happens when nothing special happens.

As Perec wrote in the introduction:

“What happens every day and recurs every day: the banal, the quotidian, the obvious, the common, the ordinary, the infra-ordinary, the background noise, the habitual? How to account for it, how to question it, how to describe it?”

Is This Something Every Writer Should Do?

Let’s be honest: you probably shouldn’t spend 60 pages detailing the license plates of cars in your local strip mall today. Most writers are already strapped for time, balancing day jobs, families, and actual writing deadlines.

However, every writer should adopt the mindset of Perec’s experiment.

Whether you write literary fiction, sci-fi world-building, high-octane thrillers, or creative nonfiction, doing a localised “exhaustion” exercise completely transforms your relationship with reality and your craft. Here is why you need to try it at least once.

1. It Cures “Writer’s Blindness”

Writers are professional daydreamers. We live inside our heads, plotting, planning, and worrying about character arcs. Because of this, we suffer from what psychologists call inattentional blindness—we stop seeing the actual physical world around us.

When you force yourself to sit still and record mundane details for an hour (let alone a whole weekend), the world snaps back into high definition. You notice how sunlight hits a cracked pavement, the precise way an elderly man adjusts his scarf, or the nervous tic of a barista dropping a ceramic cup. These are the sensory details that turn flat, generic writing into immersive, breathing fiction.

2. It Teaches You the Power of Constraint

In a world of infinite possibilities (blank Google Docs, endless plot directions), writers often freeze. Perec’s experiment proves that limitations breed creativity.

By restricting yourself to a single street corner, park bench, or coffee shop for a defined period, you remove the paralysis of choice. You stop worrying about what to write and focus entirely on how to capture what is right in front of you.

3. It Deepens Your Understanding of Pacing and Rhythm

Read An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris, and you’ll notice the text has a rhythmic, hypnotic quality. It mimics the natural ebb and flow of daily life—slow lulls in the afternoon, rushes of commuter traffic, quiet evenings.

By practising extreme observation, you learn the natural cadences of the real world. When you translate this into storytelling, your narrative pacing improves. You learn when to speed up a scene (like morning rush hour) and when to let the atmosphere linger (like a quiet Sunday afternoon).

4. It Retrains Your Brain to Value the “Infratrivial”

The best stories aren’t always about explosions, dramatic breakups, or epic fantasy quests. Often, the most resonant moments in literature happen in the spaces in between: a conversation over lukewarm soup, the silence in a car after an argument, the way someone stirs their coffee.

Perec teaches us to pay attention to the background noise. As writers, our job is to make readers care about the ordinary. If you can make a 60-page essay about a mundane Parisian square engaging, you can make any scene in your novel compelling.

How to Do Your Own “Perec Weekend” (Or Afternoon)

You don’t need to fly to Paris to channel Georges Perec. You can run your own micro-version of this experiment this very weekend. Here is how:

  1. Pick a Mundane Location: Choose somewhere unremarkable—a local diner, a subway platform, a hotel lobby, or a bench in a suburban park. Avoid hyper-stimulating tourist hotspots.
  2. Bring a Notebook (Not a Phone): Put your phone on Do Not Disturb. Use a physical notebook and pen. Digital devices invite distraction; paper demands presence.
  3. Commit to a Timeframe: Start small. Give yourself one uninterrupted hour. If you’re feeling ambitious, try three hours.
  4. Record Without Filtering: Write down everything. Do not judge whether it’s “interesting” enough. Write the mundane details: “12:15 PM. A pigeon with a missing toe lands near a discarded crisp packet. A woman in a yellow jacket walks past, looking at her watch. The hum of an idling delivery van.”
  5. Review and Mine: Later, read back through your notes. Highlight the phrases, sensory triggers, and micro-moments that jump out at you. Drop these observations into your current work-in-progress to anchor your characters in a vivid, tangible reality.

Final Thoughts

Georges Perec didn’t write An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris to give us a plot blueprint; he wrote it to wake us up.

As writers, we are chroniclers of the human experience. But we cannot write about humanity if we aren’t willing to watch it—truly watch it—in its most unpolished, unscripted, and ordinary moments.

So, pack a notebook, find a bench, and start noticing. You might just surprise yourself with what you find when you stop looking for a story and let the world come to you.

…

Inspiration, Maybe – Volume 2

50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.

They all start with –

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

And, the story:

Have you ever watched your hopes and dreams simply fly away?

Everything I thought I wanted and needed had just left in an aeroplane, and although I said I was not going to, I came to the airport to see the plane leave.  Not the person on it, that would have been far too difficult and emotional, but perhaps it was symbolic, the end of one life and the start of another.

But no matter what I thought or felt, we had both come to the right decision.  She needed the opportunity to spread her wings.  It was probably not the best idea for her to apply for the job without telling me, but I understood her reasons.

She was in a rut.  Though her job was a very good one, it was not as demanding as she had expected, particularly after the last promotion, but with it came resentment from others on her level that she, the youngest of the group, would get the position.

It was something that had been weighing her down for the last three months, and if she noticed it, the late nights, the moodiness, sometimes a flash of temper.  I knew she had one; no one could have such red hair and not, but she had always kept it in check.

And then there was us, together, and after seven years, it felt like we were going nowhere.  Perhaps that was down to my lack of ambition, and though she never said it, lack of sophistication.  It hadn’t been an issue, well, not until her last promotion, and the fact that she had to entertain more, and frankly, I felt like an embarrassment to her.

So, there it was, three days ago, the beginning of the weekend, and we had planned to go away for a few days and take stock.  We both acknowledged we needed to talk, but it never seemed the right time.

It was then that she said she had quit her job and found a new one.  Starting the following Monday.

Ok, that took me by surprise, not so much that it was something I sort of guessed might happen, but that she would just blurt it out.

I think that right then, at that moment, I could feel her frustration with everything around her.

What surprised her was my reaction.  None.

I simply asked who, where, and when.

A world-class newspaper in New York, and she had to be there in a week.

A week.

It was all the time I had left with her.

I remember just shrugging and asking if the planned weekend away was off.

She stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, hands around a cup of coffee she had just poured, and that one thing I remembered was the lone tear that ran down her cheek.

Is that all you want to know?

I did, yes, but we had lost the intimacy we used to have, where she would have told me what was happening, and we would have brainstormed solutions. I might be a cabinet maker, but I still had a brain, was what I overheard her tell a friend once.

There’s not much to ask, I said.  You’ve been desperately unhappy and haven’t been able to hide it all that well, you have been under a lot of pressure trying to deal with a group of troglodytes, and you’ve been leaning on Bentley’s shoulder instead of mine, and I get it, he’s got more experience in that place,  and the politics that go with it, and is still an ally.

Her immediate superior was instrumental in her getting the position, but unlike some men in his position, he had not taken advantage of the situation like some might.  And even if she had made a move, which I doubted, that was not the sort of woman she was, he would have politely declined.

One of the very few happily married men in that organisation, so I heard.

So, she said, you’re not just a pretty face.

Par for the course for a cabinet maker whose university degree is in psychology.  It doesn’t take rocket science to see what was happening to you.  I just didn’t think it was my place to jump in unless you asked me, and when you didn’t, well, that told me everything I needed to know.

Yes, our relationship had a use-by date, and it was in the next few days.

I was thinking, she said, that you might come with me; you can make cabinets anywhere.

I could, but I think the real problem wasn’t just the job.  It was everything around her and going with her that would just be a constant reminder of what had been holding her back. I didn’t want that for her and said so.

Then the only question left was, what do we do now?

Go shopping for suitcases.  Bags to pack, and places to go.

Getting on the roller coaster is easy.  At the beginning, it’s a slow, easy ride, followed by the slow climb to the top.  It’s much like some relationships; they start out easy, they require a little work to get to the next level, followed by the adrenaline rush when it all comes together.

What most people forget is that what comes down must go back up, and life is pretty much a roller coaster with highs and lows.

Our roller coaster had just come out of the final turn, and we were braking so that it would stop at the station.

There was no question of going with her to New York.  Yes, I promised I’d come over and visit her, but that was a promise with crossed fingers behind my back.  After a few months in the new job, the last thing she’d want was a reminder of what she left behind.  New friends, new life.

We packed her bags, threw out everything she didn’t want, a free trip to the op shop with stuff she knew others would like to have, and basically, by the time she was ready to go, there was nothing left of her in the apartment, or anywhere.

Her friends would be seeing her off at the airport, and that’s when I told her I was not coming; that moment, the taxi arrived to take her away forever.  I remember standing there, watching the taxi go.  It was going to be, and was, as hard as it was to watch the plane leave.

So, there I was, finally staring at the blank sky, around me a dozen other plane spotters, a rather motley crew of plane enthusiasts.

Already that morning, there had been 6 different types of planes departing, and I could hear another winding up its engines for take-off.

People coming, people going.

Maybe I would go to New York in a couple of months, not to see her, but just to see what the attraction was.  Or maybe I would drop in, just to see how she was.

As one of my friends told me when I gave him the news, the future is never written in stone, and it’s about time you broadened your horizons.

Perhaps it was.

© Charles Heath 2020-2026

…

Coming soon.  Find the above story and 49 others like it in:

The cinema of my dreams – It all started in Venice – Episode 15

A note and an opinion

…

On the way back to the hotel I thought about the idea of killing the Frenchman and dumping his body in one of the back canals.

Of course, that was the sort of unsanctioned act that quite often brought down a well-planned operation and it would not be the first time for me if that happened now.

I tried not to think about that moment in history and to this day still couldn’t say why I did it beyond the fact the person annoyed me.  Those were young and brash days, long since gone from the repertoire.

Still, if he got in the way, or was going to compromise my plan he would have to go, and those back canals were begging for new prey.

When I finally returned to the hotel, it seemed almost stuffy in the small reception area, and the woman behind the counter nodded cursorily in my direction as I passed her heading for the stairs.

She was the sort of person who would miss nothing that happened in that hotel in or out of sight.

The elevator was old and tired, and I didn’t like to advertise arriving back on the floor where my room was located. Again, another memory of a bad experience involving an elevator has made me more wary since.

The stairs, in this instance, were well maintained, without the usual squeaks and groans susceptible to any other hotel.  The fact it was only a few floors and not twenty was also a selling point.

If Juliet was waiting she’d have to be in my doorway for me to fall over her, and as I took those last few steps before the landing, I wondered if Cecilia was back in my room’ waiting for me.

If she was, and Juliet arrived that might throw that proverbial car among the pigeons.

Neither were either waiting or in my room which oddly enough seemed disappointing.  Nor was anyone else who also brought up a memory or two that I’d rather forget. 

Experience was a cruel master.

I looked out the windows over the canal, still able to be surprised by the amount of activity on the water even for that hour of the night.

In a few hours, a whole new group of people would be about those behind the scenes, delivering all manner of goods and services in those early hours before a new day began.

Behind me, there was a very light knock on the door and I swiftly crossed the room and looked in the peep-hole.

Cecilia.

I opened the door and she slipped in before I’d even got it partially open.  She was in what I would call stealth mode.

“You’re up and about late?  Nothing on for tomorrow?”

She shrugged.  “Just the usual, so it’s unlikely they’ll miss me if I’m not there’ or late.  Besides, there’s a producer I keep running into that’s beginning to be annoying.”

“I can deal with him if you want me to?”

“I can deal with him myself.  No.  It’s your girlfriend whose supposedly not your girlfriend.”

“Juliet?  She’s not…”

“Of course not, just ragging you.  She’s suddenly all apologetic, telling me how sorry she was about being catty. Then giving me a hug that was quite unsettling.  Until I realised what she was doing.”

“Not making a pass I hope.”

“It wouldn’t be the first in the last day or so.  I must have that look, whatever that look is.  No.  She gave me this.”

Cecilia held up a small folded piece of paper.

“Did you read it?”

“Do I look like the sort who would read other people’s love letters?”

I took the piece of paper and unfolded it.

It said, and reading it aloud, “I believe you know why I’m here and I can tell you it’s not what I want.  I can’t discuss this with you otherwise he’ll know, so we need another way, perhaps through Cecilia. I’m supposed to deliver you in Sorrento, so we will need a plan to keep us both safe.  Sorry for dragging your friend into this.”

“Not a love letter then.”  She sounded disappointed.  “How could she possibly know that?”

“In trying to get Larry to do something in haste which he has, it was not without its risks.  She’s smart enough, given what she knew of me then, and that Larry has me in his sights, to realise it was not coincidental when I brought his name into the conversation.”

“Forcing an issue sometimes can have unintended consequences.”

“I didn’t want to drag it out for any of us.”

“Have you considered the possibility that this might be part of Larry’s plan, after all, he did tell her to get closer by any means possible.  How much closer could she get pretending to work with you?”

A plan I considered more plausible given the hold he had over her.  Alfie would have told me if such a conversation had taken place between them, but he hadn’t which meant it may have been before she embarked for Venice. 

It made sense, from his perspective and the hold he had over her.  Doing something as reckless on her part without his knowledge defied that threat, making it very difficult for me to believe it was a legitimate offer to help.

“What would you have thought if we didn’t know what we know?”

“It’s difficult to say since I’ve never been in that situation but first thought would be to considered it’s with the customary suspicion we have to view everything with.”

“Good answer.  You’ll be coming with me and lucky for you, you will not have to play nice.”

She smiled.  “At last a role I can get my teeth into.”

“We’ll go tomorrow, so be ready to leave.  I’m sure you’ll devise a good excuse for leaving early.  And watch your back tonight they might have a little surprise in store for you.”

“Not if I stay here.  I came prepared,” showing me her pyjamas under the gym wear.

I shrugged.  The room had two beds.  “Fine.”

© Charles Heath 2022