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 – The use of idioms, those a reader will recognise and understand

Don’t Let Your Writing Get Lost in the Weeds: The Art of Using Idioms Wisely

We all want our writing to be engaging, vivid, and memorable. We strive for clarity, for that “aha!” moment in our readers’ minds. But sometimes, in our quest for impactful language, we can accidentally end up “clouding the issue.”

That’s where idioms come in. These colourful phrases, like “got it in the bag” or “bite the bullet,” can add personality and a touch of familiar flair to our prose. They’re the linguistic shorthand that allows us to paint a picture, convey a complex emotion, or express a common sentiment without lengthy explanations.

Think about it: instead of saying “we are absolutely certain of success,” “got it in the bag” instantly communicates that victory is assured. Or, “bite the bullet” is a far more evocative way to describe enduring something unpleasant than a simple “tolerate the difficulty.” These phrases resonate because they’re rooted in shared cultural understanding.

However, like any powerful tool, idioms require a deft hand. The key is balance and clarity.

The Pitfall of Obscurity:

One of the biggest mistakes a writer can make is to pepper their work with obscure idioms. While you might think a phrase like “all mouth and no trousers” perfectly captures someone’s boastfulness, if your reader has never encountered it, they’re not just confused – they’re lost. Instead of enhancing understanding, an obscure idiom creates a barrier, forcing the reader to stop and decipher your meaning, breaking the flow of your narrative. Stick to idioms that are generally well-understood by your target audience.

The Danger of Overuse:

On the flip side, too much of a good thing can be detrimental. Imagine reading a paragraph where every other sentence is an idiom. It starts to sound less like natural writing and more like a forced attempt to sound “clever.” This overuse can make your writing feel cluttered and even insincere. Readers might start to feel like they’re being bombarded with clichés rather than genuinely connecting with your message.

So, How Do You Strike the Right Chord?

  1. Know Your Audience: This is paramount. What idioms are common in their everyday language? What will they readily understand? If you’re writing for a general audience, stick to widely recognised idioms.
  2. Purposeful Placement: Use idioms when they truly add value. Do they make your point more concisely? Do they inject personality or emotion? If an idiom doesn’t serve a clear purpose, a more straightforward phrase might be better.
  3. Vary Your Language: Don’t rely solely on idioms. Blend them with clear, direct language. This creates a more natural and sophisticated writing style. An occasional idiom can shine; a constant barrage will dim their impact.
  4. When in Doubt, Leave it Out: If you’re not 100% sure an idiom will be understood, or if you’re worried about overdoing it, it’s often safer to opt for a more explicit phrasing. Clarity should always be the priority.

Idioms are valuable additions to a writer’s toolkit. When used thoughtfully and strategically, they can elevate your writing, making it more engaging and relatable. But remember, the goal is to illuminate, not obfuscate. So, use them wisely, and ensure your readers don’t end up feeling like they’ve been left “out in the cold.”

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 155

Day 155 – Fly by the seat of your pants

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The Art of the “Seat of the Pants”: Why Writing Without a Map is a Masterpiece in Progress

“The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.” — Mary Heaton Vorse

This quote resonates with every writer who has ever stared at a blinking cursor. It strips away the romantic notion of the “divine muse” and replaces it with the stark, tactile reality of the craft. But beyond the discipline of sitting down, Vorse’s famous line carries a secondary, perhaps unintentional, meaning for a specific breed of writers: The Pantsers.

In the world of fiction, there are two primary archetypes: the Plotters (the architects who blueprint every room before a single brick is laid) and the Pantsers (the explorers who walk into a dark forest with only a lantern, trusting they’ll find the path as they go).

If you are a writer who finds the idea of an outline stifling, you aren’t just “making it up as you go”—you are practising the high art of discovery writing. Here is why the pantser methodology is not only valid but often leads to the most organic, surprising stories.

The Magic of “Not Knowing”

The greatest advantage of the pantser methodology is that it preserves the element of surprise. If a writer knows exactly what happens on page 200, the act of writing becomes a mechanical chore—a “connect the dots” exercise.

When you write by the seat of your pants, you are the first reader of your own story. If you’re bored, the reader is bored. But if you are genuinely shocked by a character’s betrayal or a sudden plot twist, your reader will be, too. There is an electric energy in a scene where the author doesn’t know how the protagonist is going to escape a locked room until they write the final paragraph of the chapter.

Embracing the “Organic” Character

Plotters often find themselves forcing characters to fit a pre-determined narrative arc. “He has to die here,” they might say, “because it’s in the outline.”

The pantser, however, allows the character to breathe. Because you aren’t tied to a rigid structure, you can listen to your characters. If a side character suddenly demands to have a larger role, or if your villain reveals a hidden vulnerability you didn’t anticipate, you have the flexibility to follow that thread. This creates a sense of “organic” development that feels less like a manufactured plot and more like a captured reality.

The “Seat of the Chair” Reality

Of course, there is a catch. The pantser methodology is not an excuse for aimlessness. This is where Vorse’s quote anchors us.

Writing by the seat of your pants requires more discipline, not less. Without a map, you are prone to getting lost. You might write yourself into a corner, produce three chapters of “fluff” that don’t move the story forward, or lose the main thread entirely.

To be a successful pantser, you must:

  1. Trust your instincts: If it feels right, chase it. If it feels like a dead end, dare to cut it.
  2. Edit ruthlessly: Because you don’t have an outline to guide you, your first draft will inevitably be messy. You must be willing to embrace the “vomit draft” and treat your revision process as the time when you finally build the scaffolding for the story you’ve discovered.
  3. Stay in the seat: You can only find the path if you keep moving. The pantser who doesn’t show up to the desk is just a dreamer; the pantser who shows up is a navigator.

The Final Verdict

Whether you are a meticulous plotter or a wild-card pantser, the truth remains: the story only exists when you apply your physical presence to the task.

If you feel like you’re failing because you don’t have a 50-page outline, stop judging yourself. Pick up your lantern, sit in your chair, and start walking into the woods. The story is waiting for you in the dark, and it’s likely far more interesting than anything you could have planned on paper.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? Do you find that your best ideas come when you have no idea where you’re going? Let’s talk about your process in the comments below.

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Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Vienna

Vienna Beyond the Waltz: 5 Off-Beat Gems You Can’t Miss

Vienna. Just the name conjures images of majestic palaces, grand opera, and perhaps a slice of perfectly decadent Sachertorte. It’s a city steeped in imperial history, a classic tourist destination, and rightly so.

But what if you’ve already seen Schönbrunn, wandered the Ringstrasse, and gazed upon The Kiss? What if you’re pulling into Vienna on a road trip, looking to veer off the well-trodden tourist path and discover something truly unique?

Welcome to the Vienna that locals cherish—the road less travelled. Here are five essential, yet unconventional, things to do in the Austrian capital that will enrich your trip and leave you feeling like a true insider.

1. Dive into the Depths at the Third Man Museum

For fans of Cold War intrigue and cinematic history.

Forget typical movie museums; the Third Man Museum (Dritte Mann Museum) is a passion project run by dedicated enthusiasts. Tucked away in the less flashy 4th district (Wieden), this spot is a tribute to the iconic 1949 film The Third Man, which captured post-war Vienna’s atmosphere perfectly.

You’ll find thousands of artifacts, from original film posters, props, and scripts, to rare footage and historical documents detailing the Allied occupation of the city. It’s slightly cluttered, intensely atmospheric, and wonderfully niche. It doesn’t just celebrate the film; it gives you a fascinating look at the real city it was shot in.

  • Insider Tip: Check the opening times carefully—they are usually only open on Saturdays!

2. Take a Dip (or a Stroll) Along the Old Danube (Alte Donau)

For escaping the urban hustle without leaving the city.

When the summer heat hits, Viennese locals head not to a crowded beach, but to the Alte Donau—the horseshoe-shaped former main stream of the Danube. This tranquil area is miles away from the tourist crush and offers a refreshing, almost lakeside atmosphere right in the heart of Vienna’s 22nd district.

You can rent a rowboat, a pedal boat, or even an electric boat and enjoy the quiet waters, surrounded by charming boathouses and lush green banks. There are also several public bathing areas (known as Strandbäder) perfect for a swim.

  • Why it’s off-beat: Most tourists only see the straightened, industrial New Danube. The Alte Donau provides a glimpse into Vienna’s softer, more recreational side.

3. Seek out Hundertwasser’s Quirky Architectural Utopia

For lovers of color, curves, and defying convention.

While many tourists flock to the famous Hundertwasserhaus (a quirky apartment block), the real secret lies in visiting the other projects of the visionary Austrian artist, Friedensreich Hundertwasser.

Head to the Kunst Haus Wien, which houses a permanent exhibition of his work and is a museum designed entirely in his organic, colorful style. Afterward, explore the nearby Müllverbrennungsanlage Spittelau (Spittelau Waste Incineration Plant). Yes, an incinerator. Hundertwasser converted this industrial structure into a dazzling, gold-topped, eco-friendly fairytale castle, proving that even infrastructure can be art.

  • The Road Less Traveled Angle: While the Hundertwasserhaus is always packed, exploring these other sites gives you a much deeper appreciation for his unique architectural philosophy.

4. Experience Wine Culture in the Vienna Woods (Wienerwald)

For unparalleled views and authentic Austrian wine (Heuriger).

Did you know Vienna is one of the world’s only major capital cities with significant vineyards located within the city limits?

Skip the central bars and drive (or take the tram) to one of the picturesque suburbs nestled against the Wienerwald (Vienna Woods), such as Grinzing or the lesser-known Neustift am Walde.

Here you’ll find traditional Heuriger—rustic taverns run by the winemakers themselves. They serve their young wine (often a delightful white Grüner Veltliner) alongside simple, delicious homemade buffets (Brettljausen). The atmosphere is relaxed, the view over the city often stunning, and the experience authentically Viennese.

  • When to Go: Visit in late summer or early autumn for the best harvest atmosphere.

5. Step Back in Time at the Central Cemetery (Zentralfriedhof)

For history, grandeur, and an eerily serene experience.

A cemetery might seem like a morbid suggestion, but Vienna’s Zentralfriedhof is a sprawling, peaceful, and historically important destination that few tourists bother visiting. It’s so vast (the second largest in Europe) it even has its own bus line!

It is a beautiful park, yes, but its true draw is the honor graves (Ehrengräber). Here you can pay respects to icons like Beethoven, Schubert, Strauss, Brahms, and Arnold Schoenberg. The architectural splendor of the Art Nouveau church (St. Charles Borromeo Cemetery Church) is also breathtaking.

  • Why it’s worth the detour: It’s a profound testament to Vienna’s cultural importance and a uniquely quiet place for reflection, far from the central crowds.

Vienna offers endless classical charm, but for the true explorer on a road trip, the city rewards those who look beyond the main squares. Park your car, put on your walking shoes, and discover the quirky, colorful, and wonderfully authentic side of Austria’s imperial heart.

In a word: Prize

What you win, first prize in a raffle, though I don’t think I’ve ever won first prize.  Second maybe.  But, aren’t all raffles rigged?  

But despite my unfortunate run of luck, a prize is generally give to someone who works hard, or wins a race

Or I could have been a prize fighter but lacked the size and the strength, and out of curiosity how many prize fighters didn’t win a prize?

And if I had been a pirate, I could have sailed the seven seas to find a prize, namely a ship to attack and take as my own.

And as a prime example, a Chelsea supporter walking into a bar full of Manchester United fans could be called a prize idiot.

This is not to be confused with the word prise

Don’t relatives prise the last dollar out of a dying man’s hand?

Or prise the truth out of a witness, or a perpetrator

Or prise a window open like thieves do when we forget to lock them properly?

The first case of PI Walthenson – “A Case of Working With the Jones Brothers”

This case has everything: red herrings, jealous brothers, femme fatales, and at the heart of it all, greed.

See below for an excerpt from the book…

Coming soon!

PIWalthJones1

An excerpt from the book:

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When Harry took the time to consider his position, a rather uncomfortable position at that, he concluded that he was somehow involved in another case that meant very little to him.

Not that it wasn’t important in some way he was yet to determine, it was just that his curiosity had got the better of him, and it had led to this: sitting in a chair, securely bound, waiting for someone, one of his captors had called Doug.

It was not the name that worried him so much; it was the evil laugh that had come after the name was spoken.

Doug what? Doug the ‘destroyer’, Doug the ‘dangerous’, Doug the ‘deadly’; there were several sinister connotations, and perhaps that was the point of the laugh, to make it more frightening than it was.

But there was no doubt about one thing in his mind right then: he’d made a mistake. A very big. and a costly mistake. Just how big the cost, no doubt, he would soon find out.

His mother and his grandmother, the wisest person he had ever known, had once told him never to eavesdrop.

At the time, he couldn’t help himself, and instead of minding his own business, listening to a one-sided conversation that ended with a time and a place. The very nature of the person receiving the call was, at the very least, sinister, and, because of the cryptic conversation, there appeared to be, or at least to Harry, criminal activity involved.

For several days, he had wrestled with the thought of whether he should go. Stay on the fringe, keep out of sight, observe and report to the police if it was a crime. Instead, he had willingly gone down the rabbit hole.

Now, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, several heat lamps hanging over his head, he was perspiring, and if perspiration could be used as a measure of fear, then Harry’s fear was at the highest level.

Another runnel of sweat rolled into his left eye, and, having his hands tied, it literally made it impossible to clear it. The burning sensation momentarily took his mind off his predicament. He cursed and then shook his head, trying to prevent a recurrence. It was to no avail.

Let the stinging sensation be a reminder of what was right and what was wrong.

It was obvious that it was the right place and the right time, but in considering his current perilous situation, it definitely was the wrong place to be, at the worst possible time.

It was meant to be his escape, an escape from the generations of lawyers, what were to Harry, dry, dusty men who had been in business since George Washington said to the first Walthenson to step foot on American soil, ‘Why don’t you become a lawyer?” when asked what he could do for the great man.

Or so it was handed down as lore, though Harry didn’t think Washington meant it literally, the Walthenson’s, then as now, were not shy of taking advice.

Except, of course, when it came to Harry.

He was, Harry’s father was prone to saying, the exception to every rule. Harry guessed his father was referring to the fact that his son wanted to be a Private Detective rather than a dry, dusty lawyer. Just the clothes were enough to turn Harry off the profession.

So, with a little of the money Harry inherited from one of his aunts, he leased an office in Gramercy Park and had it renovated to look like the Sam Spade detective agency, you know the one, Spade and Archer, and The Maltese Falcon.

There’s a movie and a book by Dashiell Hammett if you’re interested.

So, there it was, painted on the opaque glass inset of the front door, ‘Harold Walthenson, Private Detective’.

There was enough money to hire an assistant, and it took a week before the right person came along, or, more to the point, didn’t just see his business plan as something sinister. Ellen, a tall, cool woman in a long black dress, or so the words of a song in his head told him, fitted in perfectly.

She’d seen the movie, but she said with a grin, Harry was no Humphrey Bogart.

Of course not, he said, he didn’t smoke.

Three months on the job, and it had been a few calls, no ‘real’ cases, nothing but missing animals, and other miscellaneous items. What he really wanted was a missing person. Or perhaps a beguiling, sophisticated woman who was as deadly as she was charming, looking for an errant husband, perhaps one that she had already ‘dispatched’.

Or for a tall, dark and handsome foreigner who spoke in riddles and in heavily accented English, a spy, or perhaps an assassin, in town to take out the mayor. The man was such an imbecile that Harry had considered doing it himself.

Now, in a back room of a disused warehouse, that wishful thinking might be just about to come to a very abrupt end, with none of the romanticised trappings of the business befalling him. No beguiling women, no sinister criminals, no stupid policemen.

Just a nasty little man whose only concern was how quickly or how slowly Harry’s end was going to be.

…

© Charles Heath 2019-2024

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Madrid

Beyond the Postcards: 5 Unique Madrid Experiences on the Road Less Travelled

Madrid. The very name conjures images of grand boulevards, world-class art museums, and bustling tapas bars. And while the Prado, the Royal Palace, and Retiro Park are undeniably magnificent, there’s a whole other layer to Spain’s vibrant capital, waiting to be discovered by those willing to stray from the well-trodden path.

If you’re like me – a traveller who loves to peel back the layers and uncover the authentic pulse of a city – then pack your sense of adventure. Here are my top five “road less travelled” experiences that will show you Madrid most tourists never see.

1. Dive into the Multicultural Heart of Lavapiés & the Mercado de San Fernando

Forget the polished tourist markets; head straight to Lavapiés, one of Madrid’s most historic and multicultural neighbourhoods. This isn’t just about street art (though there’s plenty of incredible murals to discover); it’s about the aroma of spices, the sound of different languages, and the genuine buzz of local life.

Your main mission here? The Mercado de San Fernando. Unlike the famous Mercado de San Miguel, San Fernando is a working neighbourhood market that has embraced a new life while retaining its authentic charm. Here, you can buy “libros al peso” (books by weight), sample craft beers, indulge in delicious Ethiopian food, browse artisanal goods, or grab a traditional Spanish tapa alongside locals doing their daily shopping. It’s a sensory feast and a true microcosm of modern Madrid.

  • Why it’s special: Authentic, multicultural, affordable, and a peek into Madrid’s real daily life.
  • Don’t miss: The book stall, the craft beer vendors, and simply soaking in the atmosphere.

2. Catch Sunset (and a Panorama) at Parque de las Siete Tetas

Looking for the best panoramic view of Madrid, away from the tourist crowds? Ditch the rooftop bars and head to Parque del Cerro del Tío Pío, affectionately known by locals as “Parque de las Siete Tetas” (Park of the Seven Tits) due to its seven rolling hills.

Located in the Vallecas district (easily accessible by metro), this park offers an unparalleled, uninterrupted vista of the entire city skyline, with the majestic Sierra de Guadarrama mountains as a backdrop. Grab a picnic, a bottle of wine, and join Madrileños as they gather here to watch the sun dip below the horizon, painting the city in hues of orange and gold. It’s a truly magical and unpretentious experience.

  • Why it’s special: The best, most local sunset spot with breathtaking views.
  • Don’t miss: The golden hour – arrive 45 minutes before sunset for the full spectacle.

3. Step into a Tranquil Oasis at the Sorolla Museum

While the Prado and Reina Sofía are essential, escape the crowds at the beautiful Sorolla Museum, dedicated to the luminous works of Spanish impressionist Joaquín Sorolla. Housed in the artist’s former home and studio, this museum is a serene retreat.

Wander through light-filled rooms filled with his vibrant paintings, many depicting sun-drenched beaches and family life. But the real hidden gem here are the exquisite Andalusian-style gardens, designed by Sorolla himself. They offer a tranquil escape from the city bustle, making you feel as though you’ve stumbled into a private, sun-drenched oasis. It’s a personal and intimate experience with art and history.

  • Why it’s special: A stunning house-museum with beautiful art and serene gardens, far less crowded than the major museums.
  • Don’t miss: The gardens are as much a work of art as the paintings themselves.

4. Immerse Yourself in a Traditional Vermutería Experience

Forget the generic sangria; dive into a truly Madrileño tradition: the vermutería. While tapas bars are everywhere, a dedicated vermutería offers a unique glimpse into a cherished cultural ritual. Vermouth, often served on tap (vermut de grifo), is a fortified wine infused with botanicals, and it’s experiencing a massive revival.

Seek out a classic spot like Casa Camacho in Malasaña or Bodega de la Ardosa (also in Malasaña, though it’s more broadly a classic tavern). Order a “vermút de grifo” (vermouth on tap), often served with an olive and a slice of orange. Pair it with their specific, often pickle-laden, tapas. It’s a delicious, slightly bitter, and utterly authentic way to start your evening, surrounded by locals engaging in lively conversation.

  • Why it’s special: A distinct Madrid tradition, away from tourist traps, with a unique drink and specific food pairings.
  • Don’t miss: Trying a “yayo” at Casa Camacho – a local concoction of vermouth, soda, and gin.

5. Explore the Opulent World of the Museo Cerralbo

For a glimpse into the extravagant life of a 19th-century Spanish aristocrat, the Museo Cerralbo is an absolute treasure, yet surprisingly overlooked by many guidebooks. The Marqués de Cerralbo, a passionate collector, bequeathed his entire palace and its vast contents to the state.

Walking through its ornately decorated rooms, you’ll find an astonishing collection of art, weaponry, ancient artifacts, and opulent furnishings, all preserved as if the family just stepped out for the afternoon. It’s a time capsule that offers a fascinating contrast to the often more institutional feel of other museums, providing an intimate look at the aesthetics and lifestyle of Madrid’s elite.

  • Why it’s special: A beautifully preserved opulent palace and private collection, offering a unique historical perspective.
  • Don’t miss: The stunning grand staircase and the ballroom – imagine the parties that took place here!

Madrid is a city of endless discoveries, and sometimes the most memorable experiences are found when you venture just a little bit off the well-worn path. So, ditch the guidebook for an afternoon, follow your curiosity, and let Madrid truly reveal itself to you.

What are your favourite hidden gems in Madrid? Share them in the comments below!

‘Sunday in New York’ – A beta reader’s view

I’m not a fan of romance novels but …

There was something about this one that resonated with me.

This is a novel about a world generally ruled by perception, and how people perceive what they see, what they are told, and what they want to believe.

I’ve been guilty of it myself, as I’m sure we all have at one time or another.

For the main characters, Harry and Alison, other issues are driving their relationship.

For Alison, it is a loss of self-worth through losing her job and from losing her mother and, in a sense, her sister.

For Harry, it is the fact that he has a beautiful and desirable wife, his belief that she is the object of other men’s desires, and, in particular, his immediate superior’s.

Between observation, the less-than-honest motives of his friends, a lot of jumping to conclusions based on very little fact, and you have the basis of one very interesting story.

When it all comes to a head, Alison finds herself in a desperate situation, and she realises only the truth will save their marriage.

But is it all the truth?

What would we do in similar circumstances?

Rarely does a book have me so enthralled that I could not put it down until I knew the result. They might be considered two people who should have known better, but as is often the case, they had to get past what they both thought was the truth.

And the moral of this story, if it could be said there is one, is that nothing is ever what it seems.

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Available on Amazon here: amzn.to/2H7ALs8

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365 Days of writing, 2026 – 155

Day 155 – Fly by the seat of your pants

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The Art of the “Seat of the Pants”: Why Writing Without a Map is a Masterpiece in Progress

“The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.” — Mary Heaton Vorse

This quote resonates with every writer who has ever stared at a blinking cursor. It strips away the romantic notion of the “divine muse” and replaces it with the stark, tactile reality of the craft. But beyond the discipline of sitting down, Vorse’s famous line carries a secondary, perhaps unintentional, meaning for a specific breed of writers: The Pantsers.

In the world of fiction, there are two primary archetypes: the Plotters (the architects who blueprint every room before a single brick is laid) and the Pantsers (the explorers who walk into a dark forest with only a lantern, trusting they’ll find the path as they go).

If you are a writer who finds the idea of an outline stifling, you aren’t just “making it up as you go”—you are practising the high art of discovery writing. Here is why the pantser methodology is not only valid but often leads to the most organic, surprising stories.

The Magic of “Not Knowing”

The greatest advantage of the pantser methodology is that it preserves the element of surprise. If a writer knows exactly what happens on page 200, the act of writing becomes a mechanical chore—a “connect the dots” exercise.

When you write by the seat of your pants, you are the first reader of your own story. If you’re bored, the reader is bored. But if you are genuinely shocked by a character’s betrayal or a sudden plot twist, your reader will be, too. There is an electric energy in a scene where the author doesn’t know how the protagonist is going to escape a locked room until they write the final paragraph of the chapter.

Embracing the “Organic” Character

Plotters often find themselves forcing characters to fit a pre-determined narrative arc. “He has to die here,” they might say, “because it’s in the outline.”

The pantser, however, allows the character to breathe. Because you aren’t tied to a rigid structure, you can listen to your characters. If a side character suddenly demands to have a larger role, or if your villain reveals a hidden vulnerability you didn’t anticipate, you have the flexibility to follow that thread. This creates a sense of “organic” development that feels less like a manufactured plot and more like a captured reality.

The “Seat of the Chair” Reality

Of course, there is a catch. The pantser methodology is not an excuse for aimlessness. This is where Vorse’s quote anchors us.

Writing by the seat of your pants requires more discipline, not less. Without a map, you are prone to getting lost. You might write yourself into a corner, produce three chapters of “fluff” that don’t move the story forward, or lose the main thread entirely.

To be a successful pantser, you must:

  1. Trust your instincts: If it feels right, chase it. If it feels like a dead end, dare to cut it.
  2. Edit ruthlessly: Because you don’t have an outline to guide you, your first draft will inevitably be messy. You must be willing to embrace the “vomit draft” and treat your revision process as the time when you finally build the scaffolding for the story you’ve discovered.
  3. Stay in the seat: You can only find the path if you keep moving. The pantser who doesn’t show up to the desk is just a dreamer; the pantser who shows up is a navigator.

The Final Verdict

Whether you are a meticulous plotter or a wild-card pantser, the truth remains: the story only exists when you apply your physical presence to the task.

If you feel like you’re failing because you don’t have a 50-page outline, stop judging yourself. Pick up your lantern, sit in your chair, and start walking into the woods. The story is waiting for you in the dark, and it’s likely far more interesting than anything you could have planned on paper.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? Do you find that your best ideas come when you have no idea where you’re going? Let’s talk about your process in the comments below.

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An excerpt from “Echoes from the Past”

Available on Amazon Kindle here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

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With my attention elsewhere, I walked into a man who was hurrying in the opposite direction.  He was a big man with a scar running down the left side of his face from the eye socket to the mouth, and he was wearing a black shirt with a red tie.

That was all I remembered as my heart almost stopped.

He apologised as he stepped to one side, the same way I stepped, as I also muttered an apology.

I kept my eyes down.  He was not the sort of man I wanted to recognise later in a lineup.  I stepped to the other side, and so did he.  It was one of those situations.  Finally getting out of sync, he kept going in his direction, and I went towards the bus, which was now pulling away from the curb.

Getting my breath back, I just stood riveted to the spot watching it join the traffic.  I looked back over my shoulder, but the man I’d run into had gone.  I shrugged and looked at my watch.  It would be a few minutes before the next bus arrived.

Wait, or walk?  I could also go by subway, but it was a long walk to the station.  What the hell, I needed the exercise.

At the first intersection, the ‘Walk’ sign had just flashed to ‘Don’t Walk’.  I thought I’d save a few minutes by not waiting for the next green light.  As I stepped onto the road, I heard the screeching of tyres.

A yellow car stopped inches from me.

It was a high-powered sports car, perhaps a Lamborghini.  I knew what they looked like because Marcus Bartleby owned one, as did every other junior executive in the city with a rich father.

Everyone stopped to look at me, then the car.  It was that sort of car.  I could see the driver through the windscreen shaking his fist, and I could see he was yelling too, but I couldn’t hear him.  I stepped back onto the sidewalk, and he drove on.  The moment had passed, and everyone went back to their business.

My heart rate hadn’t come down from the last encounter.   Now it was approaching cardiac arrest, so I took a few minutes and several sets of lights to regain composure.

At the next intersection, I waited for the green light, and then a few seconds more, just to be sure.  I was no longer in a hurry.

Next, I heard what sounded like a gunshot.  A few people looked around, worried expressions on their faces, but when it happened again, I saw it was an old car backfiring.  I also saw another yellow car, much the same as the one before, stopped on the side of the road.  I thought nothing of it, other than it was the second yellow car I’d seen.

At the next intersection, I realised I was subconsciously heading towards Harry’s new bar.   It was somewhere on 6th Avenue, so I continued walking in what I thought was the right direction.

I don’t know why I looked behind me at the next intersection, but I did.  There was another yellow car on the side of the road, not far from me.  It, too, looked the same as the original Lamborghini, and I was starting to think it was not a coincidence.

Moments after crossing the road, I heard the roar of a sports car engine and saw the yellow car accelerate past me.  As it passed by, I saw there were two people in it, and the blurry image of the passenger was a large man with a red tie.

Now my imagination was playing tricks.

It could not be the same man.  He was going in a different direction.

In the few minutes I’d been standing on the pavement, it had started to snow; early for this time of year, and marking the start of what could be a long, cold winter.  I shuddered, and it was not necessarily because of the temperature.

I looked up and saw a neon light advertising a bar, coincidentally the one Harry had ‘found’ and, looking once in the direction of the departing yellow car, I decided to go in.  I would have a few drinks and then leave through the back door if there were one.

Just in case.

…

© Charles Heath 2015-2020

newechocover5rs

The cinema of my dreams – I never wanted to go to Africa – Episode 46

Our hero knows he’s in serious trouble.

The problem is, there are familiar faces and a question of who is a friend and who is foe made all the more difficult because of the enemy, if it was the enemy, simply because it didn’t look or sound or act like the enemy.

Now, it appears, his problems stem from another operation he participated in, and because of it, he has now been roped into what might be called a suicide mission.

…

It took longer, as everything does when you’re in a hurry.
The plane was loaded, the fuel truck had just disconnected the final hose, and was leaving the field, and Davies was firing up the engines.
Everyone was on board and strapped in.  I gave my thanks to the Colonel and shut the door before joining Davies in the cockpit.
Looking at her cool, calm demeanor gave me confidence.  If anyone could get us out of here in one piece, she could.
He didn’t have any good news though.
I was hoping it would just be a commercial helicopter with a couple of thugs with handguns shooting at us.
At the top of the runway, she didn’t waste time going to full throttle, and we started rumbling down the runway.  Unfortunately, the wind had changed and to take off we had to initially fly towards Congo airspace before turning towards our destination.
Then we lifted off and started gaining altitude.
Then I heard Davies mutter, “Fuck.”
Trouble.  I saw what elicited the curse.  The helicopter, heading towards us.
“Military,” she added.
Not that I had any idea what I was looking for, but it didn’t seem to have rockets, but it did have a cannon barrel under the fuselage.
“Brace yourself,” she said.  “We’re about to get on the roller coaster.”
Still climbing we were getting closer, and I could just see the cannon move.  If it was shooting rounds, they didn’t hit us, not from such a distance, but they were getting closer because we were still flying towards them.
Then, suddenly, she turned the planes to the right and down, a plunge so quick that my stomach was in my mouth.  I hate to think what it would be like for those in the back.
Aside from the fact my hearing was blocked by the headphones, I could still hear several mini-explosions coming from behind me.
Another curse, rather longer this time, from Davies and she twisted the plane back in the opposite direction, and heading around towards the airfield again, much lower down this time, with the helicopter in hot pursuit.
Now we couldn’t see it, but it would have a good view of our engines and tail.
If any of the bullets hit, we’d be in big trouble.
I was bracing myself for disaster.
Davies was coaxing the plane upwards, but it seemed sluggish.
Nothing happened.
 
“Gun’s jammed.” She said.  “If you don’t maintain your equipment…”
That statement was cut off by a huge explosion and turning as far as I could in my seat I just saw the remnants of a firewall, what was once a helicopter.
“Ground to air rocket.  The Colonel must have some interesting toys at his disposal.”  Davies sounded very relieved.
I started breathing again.
“Are we damaged?”  It was a valid question.  The plane seemed like it was flying awkwardly.
“I’d say so., Those explosions.  Cannon fire hitting the fuselage.  Probably took out some controls, or failing that, since there’s still maneuverability, probably just a few holes creating drag.”
She was a matter of fact like, but that was more because she was fighting the controls to keep us moving in the right direction.
Away from trouble.
“Go check it out,” she said.
At the head of the cabin, I saw the problem, a row of neat holes carved from one window through to halfway along the fuselage, going down.  We’d be lucky if one of the bullets hadn’t struck one of the wires that drove the flaps/
There was a hell of a noise from the air coming in through the holes.  
By the second window, slumped forward, was Shurl.  There was blood and blood spatter on the floor.  Monroe came up to me and yelled in my ear.
“Damned good flying, and only one casualty.  We were incredibly lucky.  Shurl wasn’t quick enough to get on the floor.  Other than that, we’re still in the air, and I’m guessing someone shot the helo down?”
“Ground to air missile.  Any sooner, that would have been us.  Try and sit back, rest, and enjoy the in-flight service.  Oh, and a prayer or two might help.”

© Charles Heath 2020-2021