Category: #amwriting

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 64

Here’s the thing…

Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.

I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

Once again there’s a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.

…

The Ormiston’s from the papers

…

The Ormiston story and that of the thousand or so acres between the sea and the mountains are now known as Patterson’s reach, but once called The Grove, began in 1865 when the original Henrich Ormiston arrived from Germany.

Originally intending to go to Australia to grow grapes in South Australia, instead, his fate turned West to the Americas, and, eventually, this part of Florida.  He started out with the intention of growing grapes, but when that failed to materialize, he moved on to Oranges, hence the name, The Grove.

He had married before leaving Germany and had two children, Marta and Gunter before leaving, and Friedrich after he arrived in 1866.  That Friedrich died, according to the gravestone, in 1924.  Neither Marta nor Gunter stayed, leaving Friedrich to carry on the business, have an only child which he named after his father, Heinrich, born in 1899 and who died in 1976.  He in turn had a single son, which he named Friedrich, the infamous person with who Boggs father had a tempestuous business relationship.

Friedrich was born in 1932, during the depression, and it was about that time that the notion there might be buried treasure, somewhere along that coastal area of Florida, floated by a university professor, Emil Stravinsky, who specialized in old pirates.  He had published a book that basically speculated where treasure might be found, and one of those areas was right smack bang in the middle of The Grove.

This information was plucked from the paper’s births, death, and marriages column around the specified dates, the death notices giving some light on the respective Ormiston’s life and toils on their land.

Heinrich, Friedrich’s father, fell for the story hook line and sinker, and with a promise to share the proceeds of an estimated multimillion-dollar trove, invested a fair chunk of the savings he’d amassed over the years in the first of many treasure hunts.  The name Stravinsky rang a bell in my head.

A quick look forward to the most recent editions showed it was the man who had died on Rico’s boat, who was, in fact, a third-generation relative of the original professor, an archaeologist in his own right, and digging a bit further into the story, the paper had published a dozen or so extracts from the professor’s book, hinting their subject matter had been derived from a particular pirate’s log, and from notes made over the years of research by the professor.  It sounded like there was a diary.

I was going to have to find a copy of the professor’s book, which, if it had been published nearly 90 years ago, would now be out of print.

When the father, Heinrich had failed to locate the treasure, the son Friedrich continued the search, only he put more time and effort into more meticulous research rather than take the professor’s word of its whereabouts.

This was about the time Boggs’s father came into the picture.

He had lived and worked in the Caribbean and discovered quite by chance when a storm had blown his boat way off course on a weekend sailing run, the ruins of an encampment and hidden inlet on an uninhabited island where he believed the pirate had operated from.

While waiting to be rescued, the storm had damaged his boat, he took the time to explore, and although he hadn’t told anyone at the time of his rescue, he had discovered a box buried near where a building had once stood containing a map, several coins, a sextant, and a flag.  The news of those discoveries came some years later when it was revealed he’s struck a deal with Ormiston to renew the search for the treasure.

When the result of that expedition came to nothing, each of the partners blamed the other for the lack of success, with Ormiston all but telling anyone who would listen that Boggs had created the map himself for the purpose of extorting money under false pretenses.

Boggs then had to produce the map, where it was authenticated as a map that had been created at the time of the pirate’s reign, but no one could say whether it was just an invention of someone at the time, or it was real.  The fact nothing was found suggested the latter, and it marked to start of the feud between Boggs and Ormiston.

The question in my mind was whether Boggs had that particular map, and had he shown it briefly to me?  Certainly, one of the maps he had was quite old, but there were so many variations, and they all looked equally as old, it was hard to tell.

One point I was quite certain on, none of the maps I’d seen showed the treasure’s final resting place as being in a cave, and I got the impression just before when I’d run into Boggs, that it was exactly where he was going.

Had that been the clue his father had referred to?  Even with the so-called original map, if it showed the treasure hidden in a cave why did Boggs need Ormiston’s help?

Had Ormiston known that might be the final resting place of the treasure?

I would soon find out.  My next stop was the library.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2022

The 2AM Rant: On the other end of medical mumbo jumbo

Who could imagine that one visit to the local hospital could fuel a medical nightmare?

Aside from the original suspicion I was having heart problems, doctors started lining up appointments for an endoscopy and colonoscopy, though I suspect these were for a different malady, and the main event, an angiogram.

I didn’t have heart problems though it was possible I had angina, the reason for the angiogram, but I did have acute kidney failure which was interesting, to say the least, and possibly attributed to ipBrufen, though it was impossible to say if the medication for psoriatic arthritis, a venomous little pill called methotrexate, was or was not a contributing factor.

But is was great to learn that my psioratic arthritis could lead to heart attack, and lung issues, a few problems my original arthritis consultant conveniently forgot to tell me about.

No sooner than I was released from the hospital after this first set of maladies, I was back three or four days later with hospital-acquired pneumonia, a devil of a problem that requires some very invasive searches for the type of bug so it could be treated properly.

It led to five days of antibiotics, a considerable inability to breathe without help from an oxygen mask, and several CT scans with and without dye to get a better look at the problem.

If only that was all that was wrong with me.

The CT scan showed up a lump or lesion on my right thyroid which led to further investigation, an ultrasound, a biopsy, and a visit to the surgeon to be told it had to come out.

But that’s not all.  No, I didn’t get a set of steak knives for being one the first ten this week to be diagnosed with anything, I was told my PSA reading was twice the average for my age, a clear indication I might have prostate cancer.

Wow.  Just to sort of news you need to hear before the weekend.  Worse perhaps than a rainstorm when camping in a floorless tent.  I had to now wait for the results of a new blood test.

Ok.  I get it that things are bound to go wrong when you get older, but what I object to is everything going wrong at once.

Perhaps when we stop the aging process a lot of these issues will go away, but I fear not.  The human body is surprisingly robust for quite a long time despite our attempts to test it to the limits of endurance.

It is advice too late for me to make sure my misspent youth is not wasted on being stupid or believing I’m indestructible.  The plain truth is, we are not, and I didn’t get the memo.

Now, I guess, it is time to actually do everything, or as much as I can, before I start to deteriorating further and not be able to do anything.  I have a few good years before arthritis sets in and makes life more difficult than it already is.

I’m not going to waste them.

What I learned about writing – The “Practice Makes Perfect” Myth

(and Why It Still Works—for Writing)

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The “Practice Makes Perfect” Myth (and Why It Still Works—for Writing)

“If you do anything seriously long enough, you’ll get better.”

That sentence feels like an old‑school mantra you might have heard from a coach, a music teacher, or a parent. It’s comforting, almost inevitable—just keep at it and the results will follow.

But does the rule hold true for writers? And what does it mean when we say “good writing is contagious”?

In this post I’ll unpack the science behind long‑term practice, show why writing is a uniquely contagious skill, and give you a toolbox of concrete, battle‑tested tips to turn “doing it longer” into real, measurable improvement.

1. The Core Truth: Time + Deliberate Practice = Skill Growth

FactWhat It Means for Writers
Neuroplasticity – The brain rewires itself with repeated activity.The more you write, the stronger the neural pathways that support storytelling, grammar, and voice.
Deliberate Practice – Not just “doing the thing,” but practicing with feedback and specific goals.Writing a 500‑word blog post isn’t enough; you must target weak spots (e.g., pacing, dialogue) and refine them deliberately.
Deliberate Practice – Not just “doing the thing,” but practising with feedback and specific goals.10,000 hours of mindless typing won’t help. Ten hours of focused revision, critique, and study can trump 100 hours of “just writing.”
Plateaus Are Normal – Skill acquisition follows a sigmoid curve: rapid early gains, a plateau, then a second surge after a breakthrough.Expect periods where progress feels stagnant. Use them to experiment, read, or rest—don’t quit.

Bottom line: Time alone isn’t enough. You need deliberate, feedback‑rich practice to convert hours into mastery.

2. Good Writing Is Contagious – Why It Spreads

  1. Social Proof: Readers (and fellow writers) gravitate toward high‑quality prose. When a piece shines, it sets a new benchmark in its community.
  2. Mirror Neurons: We neurologically mimic the style and tone we consume, especially when we admire the source. Reading great sentences trains our own “inner ear.”
  3. Collective Learning: Writing groups, workshops, and online forums create a feedback loop where one person’s improvement lifts the entire cohort.
  4. Cultural Momentum: Think of the “New Journalism” wave of the ’60s or the rise of flash fiction on Twitter—once a few voices cracked the code, the style proliferated.

In short, exposure to excellent writing accelerates your own growth—if you allow it to.

3. The Pitfalls of “Just Writing More”

Common MisconceptionWhy It FailsHow to Fix It
“I write 2,000 words a day, so I’m improving.”Quantity without reflection reinforces bad habits.After each session, flag 1–2 things you’d change (e.g., redundancy, weak verb).
“I’ll get better after I finish my novel.”Long‑term projects can hide small‑scale weaknesses.Break the novel into bite‑size “skill drills” (e.g., one chapter focused on dialogue).
“Feedback is optional; I trust my gut.”Our internal editor is notoriously biased.Schedule regular external reviews—beta readers, editors, or a critique partner.
“I’ll read only what I like.”Comfort zones limit exposure to new structures, vocab, and perspectives.Add a “genre‑stretch” reading slot each week (e.g., poetry if you write nonfiction).

4. Actionable Blueprint: Turn Hours Into Better Writing

Below is a step‑by‑step system you can adopt today. It’s modular—pick what fits your schedule and skill level, then iterate.

A. Build a Structured Writing Routine

ComponentFrequencyTip
Micro‑Write (10–15 min)Daily, first thing in the morningWrite a single sentence, a vivid description, or a quick dialogue exchange. No editing, just raw output.
Focused Session (45–90 min)3–4× per weekChoose a skill goal (e.g., “show, don’t tell”). Work on a specific piece that targets that goal.
Review & Revise (30 min)Immediately after each focused sessionHighlight 2–3 improvement points; rewrite the same passage with those in mind.
Reading Sprint (30 min)Daily or every other dayRead a passage from a writer you admire and take notes on what makes it work (sentence rhythm, word choice, structure).
Feedback Loop (1 hr)WeeklySend your work to a critique partner or post in a writing forum. Write a response to each piece of feedback, outlining what you’ll try next.

Why it works: The routine mixes production, analysis, and external input—the three pillars of deliberate practice.

B. “Contagion” Tactics – Let Good Writing Infect You

  1. Curated Reading Lists
    • Classic craft: “The Elements of Style,” “On Writing” (King).
    • Genre deep‑dive: 5 seminal works from each genre you write.
    • Modern bite‑size: Follow Twitter accounts that tweet micro‑essays or haiku.
  2. Imitation Exercises
    • Pick a paragraph you love. Rewrite it in your own voice while preserving the structure and rhythm.
    • Swap the genre (turn a news article into a short story).
  3. Community Immersion
    • Join a weekly critique circle (online or local).
    • Participate in writing challenges (NaNoWriMo, 30‑day flash fiction).
    • Comment thoughtfully on other writers’ blogs—explaining what you liked forces you to articulate good writing principles.
  4. Mentor‑Mode Writing
    • Write as if you’re teaching a class. Draft a short guide on a writing technique; the act of explaining refines your own understanding.

C. Metric‑Based Progress Tracking

MetricToolHow to Interpret
Word‑per‑hour outputTimer + word countAim for a stable range; spikes may indicate “flow” days, drops may signal fatigue.
Revision Ratio (original words ÷ final words)Drafts in Google DocsA decreasing ratio (e.g., 1.3 → 1.1) often signals tighter prose.
Feedback Score (e.g., 1‑5 rating from beta readers)Survey FormTrend upward? If flat, examine recurring criticism.
Reading Diversity Index (genres read per month)SpreadsheetHigher diversity correlates with more varied sentence structures.

Review these numbers every month and adjust your routine accordingly.

5. Real‑World Case Study: From “Stuck” to “Spitting Fire”

Writer: Maya, 34, freelance tech copywriter.

ProblemInterventionResult (3 months)
Drafts flooded with jargon; readers complained of “dry” tone.1️⃣ Daily 10‑min “show, don’t tell” micro‑write.
2️⃣ Weekly 30‑min reading of narrative non‑fiction (e.g., The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks).
3️⃣ Joined a local critique group focused on voice.		• Reduced average sentence length by 15 %.
• Client satisfaction score rose from 3.2 → 4.6/5.
• Secured a new contract for a storytelling‑heavy whitepaper series.

Maya’s story illustrates that structured, feedback‑rich practice beats sheer volume—and that reading narrative work made her own prose “contagiously” richer.

6. Quick‑Start Checklist (Print & Pin)

  •  Write a 10‑minute “seed” piece every morning (no edits).
  •  Pick one skill goal per week (e.g., stronger verbs).
  •  Read a 5‑minute passage from a master writer daily and annotate.
  •  Submit a draft for critique at least once a week.
  •  Imitate a favourite paragraph once a month, then rewrite it in a new genre.
  •  Log your metrics (output, revision ratio, feedback rating) every Friday.

7. The Bottom Line

Yes—if you do something seriously long enough, you will improve. But the quality of that “serious” effort is what determines how much you improve.

Good writing spreads like a good meme: you absorb it through reading, imitation, and community, and you amplify it by giving feedback and teaching.

By marrying deliberate practice with contagious exposure, you turn the simple mantra “write more” into a powerful, measurable growth engine.

Your next step? Choose one of the tactics above, commit to it for the next 30 days, and watch your prose evolve from “just getting longer” to “getting better.”

Happy writing—and may the contagion be ever in your favour!

If you found this post helpful, share it with fellow writers, and let us know which of the strategies you tried in the comments.

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 218

Day 218 – The author’s imaginary world

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Building the Invisible Architecture: Why Every Novelist Must First Create a World They Believe In

“Every novelist must begin by creating himself a world, great or little, in which he can honestly believe.” — Joseph Conrad

When we open a novel, we aren’t just looking for a sequence of events. We are looking for a portal. We want to step out of the mundane architecture of our daily lives and inhabit somewhere else—whether that somewhere else is the misty decks of a 19th-century trading ship, the neon-lit alleys of a cyberpunk dystopia, or the quiet, devastating emotional landscape of a suburban kitchen.

But before a reader can ever step foot into that fictional realm, the author must build it, brick by invisible brick. And as Joseph Conrad famously noted, that process begins with belief.

If the writer doesn’t buy the reality of the world they are constructing, why should the reader?

Let’s explore what Conrad’s timeless wisdom means for modern novelists, world-building, and the psychological heavy lifting required to write fiction that resonates.

The Anatomy of Belief: What Does It Mean to “Believe” in Your World?

Belief in writing is not about magic systems, historical accuracy, or encyclopedic lore (though those things can help). It is about internal coherence and emotional truth.

When Conrad spoke of creating a world “great or little,” he wasn’t just talking about epic fantasy maps. A “little” world might be a single boarding house in Dublin, a courtroom during a three-day trial, or the strained silence across a breakfast table.

To believe in your world, you must know its gravity. You must understand:

  • The sensory reality: What does it smell like after a heavy rain? What is the quality of the light at 4:00 PM?
  • The unspoken rules: What do the inhabitants take for granted? What are the cultural taboos, economic pressures, and quiet griefs that shape their daily choices?
  • The moral pulse: Even if the author is entirely objective, the world must operate on a set of internal cause-and-effect dynamics where actions have real, believable consequences.

If you are writing a scene and you feel a twinge of artificiality—a sense that you are moving characters around like chess pieces just to get to the next plot point—you have stopped believing in your world. And the moment the author stops believing, the reader’s suspension of disbelief shatters like cheap glass.

World-Building is Self-Discovery

Notice the phrasing in Conrad’s quote: “creating himself a world.”

Before a novelist creates a world for the reader, they must create it for themselves. Writing a novel is an act of self-interrogation. The world you build often becomes a mirror for your own obsessions, fears, questions, and philosophies.

  • Tolkien didn’t just invent Middle-earth for the sake of an adventure; he built it out of a profound love for lost mythologies and philology, creating languages that necessitated a world to speak them.
  • Austen mapped the rigid, polite, and deeply economic marriage market of 19th-century England because she was keenly interested in the intersection of female autonomy, social survival, and genuine affection.

When you sit down to write, your fictional world is your testing ground. It is the ecosystem where you explore what you actually believe about human nature, power, love, and betrayal. If your heart isn’t invested in the truths of that ecosystem, your prose will lack the pulse of life.

The Danger of the “Cardboard Set”

We have all read books that feel like movie sets made of painted cardboard. The dialogue is snappy, the plot moves fast, but the moment a character leans against a wall, you feel like the whole thing might tip over.

This happens when a writer focuses entirely on mechanics rather than immersion. They outline the plot beats, design the twists, but fail to inhabit the space.

To avoid the cardboard set trap, adopt Conrad’s mindset:

  1. Dig deeper than the surface details. Don’t just invent a futuristic city; figure out where the garbage goes, who cleans the streets, and what people sing when they’re drunk.
  2. Let the world talk back. A believable world has momentum. When your characters make a choice, the world should react in ways that aren’t always convenient for your outline.
  3. Write for the senses, not just the intellect. Bring your scenes to life through texture, temperature, and tone.

How to Cultivate Radical Belief in Your Writing

If you are struggling to connect with your story-world, how do you bridge the gap? How do you reach that state of honest belief?

  • Write toward the unknown: Don’t plan every single square inch before you start. Leave room for discovery. Sometimes, believing in your world means exploring it alongside your characters, letting it surprise you.
  • Anchor the fantastical in the visceral: If you are writing high fantasy or hard sci-fi, ground the extraordinary in ordinary human experiences. A dragon rider still gets a sore back; a starship captain still worries about aging or estranged children.
  • Interrogate your own cynicism: If you find yourself rolling your eyes at your own plot developments, stop. Figure out why. Fix the underlying logic until you can nod to yourself and say, Yes, that is how this world works.

Final Thoughts: The Invitation to the Reader

Writing a novel is an act of supreme audacity. You are essentially asking a complete stranger to sit in a quiet room, look at a series of black symbols on a white page, and hallucinate an entire reality for several hours.

The only way that magic trick works is if your own conviction is absolute.

When you create a world—whether it spans galaxies or exists entirely within the confines of a single room—you must believe in it first. Pour your curiosity, your empathy, and your attention into its soil. Because when you honestly believe in the world you’ve made, the reader won’t just visit it—they will live in it.

Are you currently building a fictional world? What is the hardest part of making it feel real to you—the physical details, the emotional stakes, or the internal logic? Let us know in the comments below!

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Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Quito

Quito, the capital of Ecuador, is located in the northern Andes Mountains, nestled in a valley on the slopes of the Pichincha volcano, about 25 miles south of the equator, making it one of the world’s highest capital cities at roughly 9,350 feet in elevation. 

  • Region: Sierra (Highlands) of Ecuador, part of the Andes mountain range.
  • Key Landmark: Situated on the Pichincha volcano‘s eastern slopes.
  • Equator: Very close to the Equator, with a monument marking the line just outside the city. 

Beyond Quito’s major landmarks, there are many unique, local experiences and attractions to explore. These include visiting bohemian neighbourhoods, a renowned pre-Columbian art museum, and local food markets. 

Alternative Cultural Experiences

  • Explore La Floresta: This bohemian neighbourhood is known for its vibrant street art, independent galleries, and hip cafes and restaurants. A popular spot is the indie cinema, Ocho y Medio, which screens avant-garde and foreign films.
  • Wander through La Ronda: This charming, narrow cobblestone street in the historic centre truly comes alive at sunset with local art galleries, artisan workshops (like coppersmiths and traditional hat makers), cafes, and live music.
  • Visit Museo Casa del Alabado: Located in the Old Town, this private museum houses an impressive and well-curated collection of pre-Columbian art and archaeological pieces, providing deep insight into Ecuador’s ancestral heritage.
  • Check out the street art: The La Floresta and La Mariscal neighbourhoods feature an evolving outdoor gallery of murals and graffiti that reflect contemporary social and political themes.
  • Experience local markets: For an authentic slice of daily life, visit the Mercado Central or Mercado Artesanal La Mariscal. The Central Market offers inexpensive, traditional Ecuadorian food (try the locro de papa or horno) and fresh juices, while the Artisan Market is perfect for shopping for handicrafts, textiles, and jewellery. 

In a word: Leg

Aside from the fact it is one of those necessary items to walk with, and the fact we can have two or four for most humans and animals, there are a few other uses for the word ‘leg’.

Like…

‘You haven’t got a leg to stand on’, doesn’t necessarily mean you have no legs, but that you are in a precarious position.

“the table had ornate legs’, yes, even non-living objects can have legs, like tables and chairs.

“It was the fifth leg of the race’, meaning it can be a stage of a race.

“He was legless’, meaning that he was too drunk to stand up.  Some might think being legless is a badge of honour, but I suspect those people have been drinking a long time and the alcohol has destroyed most of their brain cells.

“leg it!’, meaning get the hell out of here before you’re caught.

Then, finally, ‘he’s on his last legs’, meaning that he’s exhausted, or about to die.

I’m sure there’s more but that’ll do for now.

I have to use my legs to get some exercise, of which the first leg is to the tripod to check if its legs are stable, and the second leg is to come back to the table and replace one of the legs which is broken.  Then I’ll leg it to the pub where hopefully I won’t become legless.

Hmm…

‘The Devil You Don’t’ – A beta reader’s view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you?

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been solace after disappointment turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realises his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters, cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times, taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice, where, in those back streets, I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all, a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

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Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

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Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – La Paz

Discovering La Paz: Five Hidden Gems Off the Beaten Path

Introduction
Nestled amidst the towering peaks of the Andes, La Paz is a city of vibrant cultures and breathtaking landscapes. While many travellers flock to its iconic Witches Market and the Death Road, the Bolivian capital holds countless secrets for the curious. For those seeking an authentic, less-travelled journey, here are five extraordinary experiences that redefine what La Paz has to offer.

1. Cholitas Licking: A Celebration of Andean Identity
Step into the striking world of the cholitas, traditional Aymara women, and immerse yourself in their fearless blend of style, resilience, and heritage. This unique cultural encounter, often described as “Cholitas Licking,” features fashion shows, workshops, and artisan markets where cholitas showcase their vibrant polleras (dresses) and colonial-era masks. More than a spectacle, this experience challenges stereotypes and honours indigenous identity. Visit their community centres in El Alto for a deeper understanding of their role as cultural ambassadors.

Tip: Respect cultural significance—ask for permission before photographing participants.

2. Kallawaya School of Traditional Healing: Ancient Wisdom in Modern Medicine
Journey to the outskirts of La Paz to explore the Kallawaya School of Traditional Healing, a living archive of pre-Columbian medicinal knowledge. The Kallawaya people, renowned for their healing practices, offer workshops on herbal remedies, music therapy, and shamanic rituals. Wander their medicinal garden, where over 200 plant species are catalogued, and learn how to craft teas or tinctures for common ailments. This is a rare chance to connect with Bolivia’s spiritual and ecological heritage.

Tip: Book workshops in advance—offerings (regalos) to the mountain (apacheta) are customary.

3. Wuli Qhapaq Cable Car to Chimehua: Sky-High Serenity
Traverse the urban sprawl of La Paz aboard the Wuli Qhapaq (Red) cable car network. While most travellers stick to the main routes, venture to the Chimehua line, a golden cable car that extends into the Illimani Valley. This lesser-known route offers panoramic views of the Illimani volcano and descends into the lush, remote countryside. Alight at a local farm for a chicha (corn beer) tasting or a guided hike through cloud forests teeming with orchids.

Tip: Bring a reusable bottle for coca tea from the local market—perfect for altitude adjustment.

4. Sopocachi Caves: Earth’s Hidden Art Gallery
Just 20 minutes from downtown La Paz, the Sopocachi Cave System reveals a subterranean wonderland of stalactites, stalagmites, and ancient rock art. These caves, once inhabited by pre-Columbian communities, are adorned with mysterious symbols and animal carvings. The self-guided tour is affordable (£16-£20) and led by local guides who share tales of the caves’ role in ancestral rituals.

Tip: Visit early in the day to avoid crowds and bring a headlamp for optimal visibility.

5. Trek to the Valley of the Moon: A Martian Landscape
While Salar de Uyuni is Bolivia’s most famous attraction, venture toward the Valley of the Moon (Valle de la Luna) for a quieter, equally dramatic experience. Located near Salar de Cotapata, this surreal red and orange badlands, sculpted by wind and erosion, feels like another planet. Guided day tours from La Paz (lasting 8-10 hours) include a detour to this hidden gem, where photography and hiking are unspoiled by crowds.

Tip: Visit during dry seasons (April–September) for the best colour contrasts without mud.

Conclusion: La Paz, Redefined
La Paz is more than its skyline—it’s a gateway to the extraordinary. By stepping beyond the cobbled streets of the city, travellers can uncover traditions, landscapes, and communities that epitomise Bolivia’s soul. Whether you’re sipping chicha at a cloud forest farm or tracing your fingers along ancient rock art, these hidden adventures promise memories that linger long after your boots return to solid ground. So, pack your sense of curiosity and let La Paz surprise you.

Final Tip: Learn a few Aymara phrases—Suma qhapaq kama (Beautiful is the life well lived) is a poetic way to end your journey. 🌄

An excerpt from “Betrayal” – a work in progress

It could have been anywhere in the world, she thought, but it wasn’t.  It was in a city where if anything were to go wrong…

She sighed, came away from the window and looked around the room.  It was quite large and expensively furnished.  It was one of several she had been visiting in the last three months.

Quite elegant too, as the hotel had its origins dating back to before the revolution in 1917.  At least, currently, there would not be a team of KGB agents somewhere in the basement monitoring everything that happened in the room.

There was no such thing as the KGB anymore, though there was an FSB, but such organisations were of no interest to her.

She was here to meet with Vladimir.

She smiled to herself when she thought of him, such an interesting man whose command of English was as good as her command of Russian, though she had not told him of that ability.

All he knew of her was that she was American, worked in the Embassy as a clerk, nothing important, whose life both at work and at home was boring.  Not that she had blurted that out the first time they met, or even the second.

That first time, at a function in the Embassy, was a chance meeting, a catching of his eye as he looked around the room, looking, as he had told her later, for someone who might not be as boring as the function itself.

It was a celebration honouring one of the Embassy officials’ service in Moscow, soon to be returning home after 10 years.  She had been there one and still hadn’t met all the staff.

They had talked; Vladimir knew a great deal about England, having been stationed there for a year or two, and had politely asked questions about where she lived, her family, and, of course, what her role was, all questions she fended off with an air of disinterested interest.

It fascinated him, as she knew it would, a sort of mental sparring as one would do with swords if this were a fencing match.

They had said they might or might not meet again when the party was over, but she suspected there would be another opportunity.  She knew the signs of a man interested in her, and Vladimir was.

The second time came in the form of an invitation to an art gallery and a viewing of the works of a prominent Russian artist, an invitation she politely declined.  After all, invitations issued to Embassy staff held all sorts of connotations, or so she was told by the Security officer when she told him.

Then, it went quiet for a month.  There was a party at the American embassy, and along with several other staff members, she was invited.  She had not expected to meet Vladimir, but it was a pleasant surprise when she saw him, on the other side of the room, talking to several military men.

A pleasant afternoon ensued.

And it was no surprise that they kept running into each other at the various events on the diplomatic schedule.

By the fifth meeting, they were like old friends.  She had broached the subject of being involved in a platonic relationship with him with the head of security at the embassy.  Normally, for a member of her rank, it would not be allowed, but in this instance, it was.

She did not work in any sensitive areas, and, as the security officer had said, she might just happen upon something useful.  In that regard, she was to keep her eyes and ears open and file a report each time she met him.

After that discussion, she got the impression her superiors considered Vladimir more than just a casual visitor on the diplomatic circuit.  She also formed the impression that he might consider her an ‘asset’, a word that had been used at the meeting with security and the ambassador.

It was where the word ‘spy’ popped into her head and sent a tingle down her spine.  She was not a spy, but the thought of it, well, it would be fascinating to see what happened.

A Russian friend.  That’s what she would call him.

And over time, that relationship blossomed, until, after a visit to the ballet, late and snowing, he invited her to his apartment not far from the ballet venue.  It was like treading on thin ice, but after champagne and an introduction to caviar, she felt like a giddy schoolgirl.

Even so, she had made him promise that he would remain on his best behaviour.  It could have been very easy to fall under the spell of a perfect evening, but he promised, showed her to a separate bedroom, and after a brief kiss, their first, she did not see him until the next morning.

So, it began.

It was an interesting report she filed after that encounter, one she had expected to be reprimanded.

She wasn’t.

It wasn’t until six weeks had passed that he asked her if she would like to take a trip to the country.  It would involve staying in a hotel, as always, in separate rooms.  When she reported the invitation, no objection was raised, only a caution: keep her wits about her.

Perhaps, she had thought, they were looking forward to a more extensive report.  After all, her reports on the places, the people, and the conversations she overheard were no doubt entertaining reading for some.

But on this visit, the nature of the relationship changed, and it was one that she did not immediately report.  She had realised at some point before the weekend away that she had feelings for him, and it was not that he was pushing her in that direction or manipulating her in any way.

It was just one of those moments where, after a grand dinner, a lot of champagne, and delightful company, things happen.  Standing at the door to her room, a lingering kiss, not intentional on her part, just happened.

And for not one moment did she believe she had been compromised, but for some reason she had not reported that subtle change in the relationship to the powers that be, and so far, no one had any inkling.

She took off her coat and placed it carefully on the back of one of the ornate chairs in the room.  She stopped for a moment to look at a framed photograph on the wall, one representing Red Square.

Then, after a minute or two, she went to the minibar and took out the bottle of champagne left there for them, a treat Vladimir arranged for each encounter.

There were two champagne flutes set aside on the bar, next to a bowl of fruit.  She picked up the apple and thought about how Eve must have felt in the Garden of Eden, and the temptation.

Later perhaps, after…

She smiled at the thought and put the apple back.

A glance at her watch told her it was time for his arrival.  It was, if anything, the one trait she didn’t like, and that was his punctuality.  A glance at the clock on the room wall was a minute slow.

The doorbell rang, right on the appointed time.

She put the bottle down and walked over to the door.

A smile on her face, she opened the door.

It was not Vladimir.  It was her worst nightmare.

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© Charles Heath 2020-2026

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 218

Day 218 – The author’s imaginary world

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Building the Invisible Architecture: Why Every Novelist Must First Create a World They Believe In

“Every novelist must begin by creating himself a world, great or little, in which he can honestly believe.” — Joseph Conrad

When we open a novel, we aren’t just looking for a sequence of events. We are looking for a portal. We want to step out of the mundane architecture of our daily lives and inhabit somewhere else—whether that somewhere else is the misty decks of a 19th-century trading ship, the neon-lit alleys of a cyberpunk dystopia, or the quiet, devastating emotional landscape of a suburban kitchen.

But before a reader can ever step foot into that fictional realm, the author must build it, brick by invisible brick. And as Joseph Conrad famously noted, that process begins with belief.

If the writer doesn’t buy the reality of the world they are constructing, why should the reader?

Let’s explore what Conrad’s timeless wisdom means for modern novelists, world-building, and the psychological heavy lifting required to write fiction that resonates.

The Anatomy of Belief: What Does It Mean to “Believe” in Your World?

Belief in writing is not about magic systems, historical accuracy, or encyclopedic lore (though those things can help). It is about internal coherence and emotional truth.

When Conrad spoke of creating a world “great or little,” he wasn’t just talking about epic fantasy maps. A “little” world might be a single boarding house in Dublin, a courtroom during a three-day trial, or the strained silence across a breakfast table.

To believe in your world, you must know its gravity. You must understand:

  • The sensory reality: What does it smell like after a heavy rain? What is the quality of the light at 4:00 PM?
  • The unspoken rules: What do the inhabitants take for granted? What are the cultural taboos, economic pressures, and quiet griefs that shape their daily choices?
  • The moral pulse: Even if the author is entirely objective, the world must operate on a set of internal cause-and-effect dynamics where actions have real, believable consequences.

If you are writing a scene and you feel a twinge of artificiality—a sense that you are moving characters around like chess pieces just to get to the next plot point—you have stopped believing in your world. And the moment the author stops believing, the reader’s suspension of disbelief shatters like cheap glass.

World-Building is Self-Discovery

Notice the phrasing in Conrad’s quote: “creating himself a world.”

Before a novelist creates a world for the reader, they must create it for themselves. Writing a novel is an act of self-interrogation. The world you build often becomes a mirror for your own obsessions, fears, questions, and philosophies.

  • Tolkien didn’t just invent Middle-earth for the sake of an adventure; he built it out of a profound love for lost mythologies and philology, creating languages that necessitated a world to speak them.
  • Austen mapped the rigid, polite, and deeply economic marriage market of 19th-century England because she was keenly interested in the intersection of female autonomy, social survival, and genuine affection.

When you sit down to write, your fictional world is your testing ground. It is the ecosystem where you explore what you actually believe about human nature, power, love, and betrayal. If your heart isn’t invested in the truths of that ecosystem, your prose will lack the pulse of life.

The Danger of the “Cardboard Set”

We have all read books that feel like movie sets made of painted cardboard. The dialogue is snappy, the plot moves fast, but the moment a character leans against a wall, you feel like the whole thing might tip over.

This happens when a writer focuses entirely on mechanics rather than immersion. They outline the plot beats, design the twists, but fail to inhabit the space.

To avoid the cardboard set trap, adopt Conrad’s mindset:

  1. Dig deeper than the surface details. Don’t just invent a futuristic city; figure out where the garbage goes, who cleans the streets, and what people sing when they’re drunk.
  2. Let the world talk back. A believable world has momentum. When your characters make a choice, the world should react in ways that aren’t always convenient for your outline.
  3. Write for the senses, not just the intellect. Bring your scenes to life through texture, temperature, and tone.

How to Cultivate Radical Belief in Your Writing

If you are struggling to connect with your story-world, how do you bridge the gap? How do you reach that state of honest belief?

  • Write toward the unknown: Don’t plan every single square inch before you start. Leave room for discovery. Sometimes, believing in your world means exploring it alongside your characters, letting it surprise you.
  • Anchor the fantastical in the visceral: If you are writing high fantasy or hard sci-fi, ground the extraordinary in ordinary human experiences. A dragon rider still gets a sore back; a starship captain still worries about aging or estranged children.
  • Interrogate your own cynicism: If you find yourself rolling your eyes at your own plot developments, stop. Figure out why. Fix the underlying logic until you can nod to yourself and say, Yes, that is how this world works.

Final Thoughts: The Invitation to the Reader

Writing a novel is an act of supreme audacity. You are essentially asking a complete stranger to sit in a quiet room, look at a series of black symbols on a white page, and hallucinate an entire reality for several hours.

The only way that magic trick works is if your own conviction is absolute.

When you create a world—whether it spans galaxies or exists entirely within the confines of a single room—you must believe in it first. Pour your curiosity, your empathy, and your attention into its soil. Because when you honestly believe in the world you’ve made, the reader won’t just visit it—they will live in it.

Are you currently building a fictional world? What is the hardest part of making it feel real to you—the physical details, the emotional stakes, or the internal logic? Let us know in the comments below!

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