Category: Author

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Abuja

Hidden Gems of Abuja: 5 Off-the-Beaten-Path Attractions You Shouldn’t Miss

Abuja, Nigeria’s capital city, is often celebrated for its wide boulevards, modern architecture, and bustling political hubs. While most tourists flock to well-known spots like the National Mosque, Millennium Park, or the Aso Rock Monument, there’s a quieter, more intimate side to Abuja that often goes unnoticed. Beyond the crowds lies a collection of serene, unique, and culturally rich attractions that offer a more personal and authentic experience.

If you’re looking to explore Abuja beyond the tourist brochures, here are the top five lesser-known yet distinctive attractions that promise tranquillity, beauty, and a touch of local charm—without the hustle and bustle.

1. Abuja National Zoo

Tucked away in the quieter Gwarimpa district, the Abuja National Zoo offers a peaceful escape into the world of Nigerian wildlife. Unlike the more crowded national parks, this compact zoo is family-friendly and sees far fewer visitors, making it ideal for a relaxed afternoon.

What makes it special?
Home to indigenous species like the Nigerian dwarf crocodile, West African manatees, and various primates, the zoo also features educational exhibits on conservation. The lush, well-maintained grounds include shaded walkways and picnic spots—perfect for nature lovers and families seeking a quiet day out.

Pro Tip: Visit on weekday mornings for an even more serene experience, and don’t miss the reptile house—it’s one of the few places in the country showcasing a dedicated collection of African reptiles.

2. Jabi Lake and Boat Club (Beyond the Kayaks)

While Jabi Lake is known for its weekend kayaking activities and lakeside cafes, few visitors venture beyond the main dock or the popular eateries. However, the surrounding trails and the quieter eastern shoreline offer a completely different vibe.

What makes it special?
Early mornings at the lake are magical—fog hovers above the water, birds call from the reeds, and fishermen paddle silently in wooden canoes. The lesser-used walking paths along the eastern bank provide scenic views and a chance to observe local life along the water’s edge. It’s a photographer’s dream and a meditative retreat from city noise.

Pro Tip: Bring a coffee from a nearby café and take a quiet stroll along the back trails before 8 AM to fully appreciate the lake’s tranquil beauty.

3. Kubwa Hills and Rock Formations

Located just a short drive from the city centre in the Kubwa neighbourhood, these natural rock formations rise dramatically from the savannah, offering panoramic views and a sense of untouched wilderness.

What makes it special?
Unlike Aso Rock, which is often crowded and surveilled, the Kubwa Hills are largely unmarked and unmanaged—making them perfect for adventurous travellers who enjoy hiking and solitude. The area is rich in geological history, with unique weathered granite outcrops and hidden caves. It’s also a favorite among local artists and spiritual groups, adding a subtle cultural layer to the landscape.

Pro Tip: Visit with a local guide or a trusted companion, wear comfortable shoes, and bring water—there are no facilities on-site. Sunset here offers one of the most underrated views in Abuja.

4. Arts Market at Sheraton Hotel (Abuja Arts & Crafts Market)

While many head to city malls and souvenir shops, the weekly arts and crafts market held outside the Sheraton Hotel (Friday afternoons to Sunday evenings) is a hidden treasure trove of Nigerian creativity.

What makes it special?
Here, you’ll find hand-carved sculptures, traditional fabrics, beadwork, and pottery from artisans across Nigeria’s 36 states. Because it’s not widely advertised, it attracts more locals than tourists, making it a genuine cultural exchange. The prices are fair, and vendors are happy to share stories behind their crafts.

Pro Tip: Go on a Saturday morning to see the most variety and engage with artists while they’re setting up their stalls. It’s a fantastic place to pick up authentic, one-of-a-kind souvenirs.

5. Nigeria Nuclear Regulatory Authority (NNRA) Garden and Sculpture Park

An unexpected gem, the NNRA premises in Jabi doubles as a hidden sculpture garden and green space. While the agency is operational, its front garden is open to the public and maintained like a mini-park.

What makes it special?
The space features abstract metal sculptures by Nigerian artists, serene water features, and winding pathways through thick foliage. The blend of art, nature, and science is unique—rarely seen elsewhere in the city. It’s an oasis of calm where you can sit, reflect, and enjoy a moment of quiet contemplation.

Pro Tip: Combine your visit with a stop at the nearby Jabi Lake or a quiet lunch at one of the less crowded local restaurants in Jabi Mall.

Final Thoughts: Discover a Different Abuja

Abuja is more than government buildings and grand monuments. Its quieter corners reveal a city rich in culture, nature, and local life. By stepping off the beaten path, you not only avoid the crowds but also gain a deeper appreciation for the capital’s soul.

So the next time you’re in Abuja—or planning a visit—skip the queues and embrace the serenity. These five spots may not be on every tourist map, but they promise experiences that are authentic, memorable, and refreshingly uncrowded.

Abuja’s best-kept secrets are waiting—will you go find them?

Have you visited any of these hidden spots? Share your experience in the comments below, or tag us on social media with your Abuja off-the-grid adventures!

What I learned about writing – The art of interpreting oral stories

The Whispered Word: How the Bible Mirrors the Chinese Whispers Game Across Centuries

The game of Chinese whispers—where a message subtly transforms as it’s passed from one person to another—holds a fascinating parallel to one of humanity’s most enduring texts: the Bible. While often viewed as a fixed, unchanging scripture, the Bible’s journey from oral tradition to written word, and its subsequent translations and interpretations, reveals a story as dynamic and evolving as the telephone game itself. This phenomenon invites us to reflect on how meaning shifts across time, culture, and language, and what this means for the preservation—or evolution—of sacred truths.

From Oral Roots to Written Word

Long before the Bible was committed to parchment or codex, its stories were told aloud. In ancient Israel, the earliest tales of creation, covenants, and prophecies were preserved through oral tradition, passed from generation to generation. Like a whispered chain around a campfire, these spoken narratives naturally adapted to suit new audiences. A tale of a mighty flood, for instance, might emphasise the moral lesson of divine judgment in one retelling, while another might highlight humanity’s resilience. Over time, these oral stories were eventually written down, but not without the imprints of the storytellers and scribes who shaped them.

The Alphabet Soup of Translation

The Bible’s original texts were composed in Hebrew (Old Testament), Aramaic (parts of Daniel and Ezra), and Greek (New Testament). Translating these works into countless languages over millennia introduced layers of complexity. The Septuagint, a 3rd-century BCE Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, made the text accessible to Hellenistic Jews but also sparked debates over word choice and nuance. Similarly, St. Jerome’s 4th-century Latin Vulgate aimed to stay faithful to the original Hebrew but reflected the theological priorities of his era. Each translation was a step further from the source, with translators inevitably layering their own cultural and theological frameworks onto the text.

Even today, modern translations (such as the NIV, NRSV, or King James Version) differ in tone, accuracy, and emphasis. Consider the word “logos” in the Gospel of John, translated as “Word” in English but evoking rich philosophical connotations in Greek that connect Jesus to Hellenistic concepts of reason and divine order. These shifts reveal how the Bible’s message is not static but reinterpreted through each linguistic and cultural lens.

Interpretations That Shape Identity

The Bible’s journey doesn’t stop at translation. Denominational and cultural interpretations have further transformed its narratives. The parables of Jesus, for example, were meant to be accessible to 1st-century listeners. Yet over time, they’ve been reshaped to address modern issues: the parable of the Prodigal Son might emphasise forgiveness in one tradition, while another might focus on accountability. Similarly, the Genesis creation story has been read literally by some, while others see it as a poetic allegory about humanity’s relationship with the divine.

Even sacred stories like Noah’s Ark or the Exodus have evolved. The flood narrative in Genesis shares striking similarities with Mesopotamian myths like the Epic of Gilgamesh, raising questions about how much of these stories are uniquely Israelite and how much reflects broader cultural currents.

The Paradox of Preservation

Does all this mean the Bible is a mere “Chinese whispers” of its original self? Or does it reveal the resilience of its core message? While the wording and details have changed, many argue the Bible’s essence—themes of justice, redemption, and the search for meaning—remains consistent. The differences might reflect the adaptability of sacred texts, allowing them to resonate across eras and cultures.

Yet this adaptability also invites challenges. Disputes over the “correct” interpretation have fueled centuries of theological debate, wars, and even schisms within religious communities. The question of authenticity looms: if a text is endlessly reinterpreted, does it lose its original purpose?

Embracing the Whispered Journey

The Bible’s transformations mirror the universal human experience of storytelling: we retell our most cherished narratives, reshaping them to fit new contexts. Like the children in the telephone game, each generation holds a piece of the puzzle, sometimes altering it, sometimes preserving it. Perhaps the value of the Bible—and of all stories—lies not in their unchanging perfection but in their capacity to inspire, evolve, and adapt while retaining their soul.

In a world where truth is often contested, the Bible’s journey reminds us that stories are living things. They are whispers carried on the wind, shaped by the voices that pass them on—and in that very reshaping, they find new life.

What do you think? Are the changes in the Bible a loss, or a testament to the power of storytelling? Let the whispers speak for themselves.

Another excerpt from ‘Betrayal’; a work in progress

…

My next destination in the quest was the hotel we believed Anne Merriweather had stayed at.

I was, in a sense, flying blind because we had no concrete evidence she had been there, and the message she had left behind didn’t quite name the hotel or where Vladimir was going to take her.

Mindful of the fact that someone might have been following me, I checked to see if the person I’d assumed had followed me to Elizabeth’s apartment was still in place, but I couldn’t see him. Next, I made a mental note of seven different candidates and committed them to memory.

Then I set off to the hotel, hailing a taxi. There was the possibility the cab driver was one of them, but perhaps I was slightly more paranoid than I should be. I’d been watching the queue, and there were two others before me.

The journey took about an hour, during which time I kept an eye out the back to see if anyone had been following us. If anyone was, I couldn’t see them.

I had the cab drop me off a block from the hotel and then spent the next hour doing a complete circuit of the block the hotel was on, checking the front and rear entrances, the cameras in place, and the siting of the driveway into the underground carpark. There was a camera over the entrance, and one we hadn’t checked for footage. I sent a text message to Fritz to look into it.

The hotel lobby was large and busy, which was exactly what you’d want if you wanted to come and go without standing out. It would be different later at night, but I could see her arriving about mid-afternoon, and anonymous among the type of clientele the hotel attracted.

I spent an hour sitting in various positions in the lobby simply observing. I had already ascertained where the elevator lobby for the rooms was, and the elevator down to the car park. Fortunately, it was not ‘guarded’ but there was a steady stream of concierge staff coming and going to the lower levels, and, just from time to time, guests.

Then, when there was a commotion at the front door, what seemed to be a collision of guests and free-wheeling bags, I saw one of the seven potential taggers sitting by the front door. Waiting for me to leave? Or were they wondering why I was spending so much time there?

Taking advantage of that confusion, I picked my moment to head for the elevators that went down to the car park, pressed the down button, and waited.

The was no car on the ground level, so I had to wait, watching, like several others, the guests untangling themselves at the entrance, and an eye on my potential surveillance, still absorbed in the confusion.

The doors to the left car opened, and a concierge stepped out, gave me a quick look, then headed back to his desk. I stepped into the car, pressed the first level down, the level I expected cars to arrive on, and waited what seemed like a long time for the doors to close.

As they did, I was expecting to see a hand poke through the gap, a latecomer. Nothing happened, and I put it down to a television moment.

There were three basement levels, and for a moment, I let my imagination run wild and considered the possibility that there were more levels. Of course, there was no indication on the control panel that there were any other floors, and I’d yet to see anything like it in reality.

With a shake of my head to return to reality, the car arrived, the doors opened, and I stepped out.

A car pulled up, and the driver stepped out, went around to the rear of his car, and pulled out a case. I half expected him to throw me the keys, but the instant glance he gave me told him was not the concierge, and instead brushed past me like I wasn’t there.

He bashed the up button several times impatiently and cursed when the doors didn’t open immediately. Not a happy man.

Another car drove past on its way down to a lower level.

I looked up and saw the CCTV camera, pointing towards the entrance, visible in the distance. A gate that lifted up was just about back in position and then made a clunk when it finally closed. The footage from the camera would not prove much, even if it had been working, because it didn’t cover the life lobby, only in the direction of the car entrance.

The doors to the other elevator car opened, and a man in a suit stepped out.

“Can I help you, sir? You seem lost.”

Security, or something else. “It seems that way. I went to the elevator lobby, got in, and it went down rather than up. I must have been in the wrong place.”

“Lost it is, then, sir.” I could hear the contempt for Americans in his tone. “If you will accompany me, please.”

He put out a hand ready to guide me back into the elevator. I was only too happy to oblige him. There had been a sign near the button panel that said the basement levels were only to be accessed by the guests.

Once inside, he turned a key and pressed the lobby button. The doors closed, and we went up. He stood, facing the door, not speaking. A few seconds later, he was ushering me out to the lobby.

“Now, sir, if you are a guest…”

“Actually, I’m looking for one. She called me and said she would be staying in this hotel and to come down and visit her. I was trying to get to the sixth floor.”

“Good. Let’s go over the the desk and see what we can do for you.”

I followed him over to the reception desk, where he signalled one of the clerks, a young woman who looked and acted very efficiently, and told her of my request, but then remained to oversee the proceeding.

“Name of guest, sir?”

“Merriweather, Anne. I’m her brother, Alexander.” I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my passport to prove that I was who I said I was. She glanced cursorily at it.

She typed the name into the computer, and then we waited a few seconds while it considered what to output. Then, she said, “That lady is not in the hotel, sir.”

Time to put on my best-confused look. “But she said she would be staying here for the week. I made a special trip to come here to see her.”

Another puzzled look from the clerk, then, “When did she call you?”

An interesting question to ask, and it set off a warning bell in my head. I couldn’t say today, it would have to be the day she was supposedly taken.

“Last Saturday, about four in the afternoon.”

Another look at the screen, then, “It appears she checked out Sunday morning. I’m afraid you have made a trip in vain.”

Indeed, I had. “Was she staying with anyone?”

I just managed to see the warning pass from the suited man to the clerk. I thought he had shown an interest when I mentioned the name, and now I had confirmation. He knew something about her disappearance. The trouble was, he wasn’t going to volunteer any information because he was more than just hotel security.

“No.”

“Odd,” I muttered. “I thought she told me she was staying with a man named Vladimir something or other. I’m not too good at pronouncing those Russian names. Are you sure?”

She didn’t look back at the screen. “Yes.”

“OK, now one thing I do know about staying in hotels is that you are required to ask guests with foreign passports their next destination, just in case they need to be found. Did she say where she was going next?” It was a long shot, but I thought I’d ask.

“Moscow. As I understand it, she lives in Moscow. That was the only address she gave us.”

I smiled. “Thank you. I know where that is. I probably should have gone there first.”

She didn’t answer; she didn’t have to, her expression did that perfectly.

The suited man spoke again, looking at the clerk. “Thank you.” He swivelled back to me. “I’m sorry we can’t help you.”

“No. You have more than you can know.”

“What was your name again, sir, just in case you still cannot find her?”

“Alexander Merriweather. Her brother. And if she is still missing, I will be posting a very large reward. At the moment, you can best contact me via the American Embassy.”

Money is always a great motivator, and that thoughtful expression on his face suggested he gave a moment’s thought to it.

I left him with that offer and left. If anything, the people who were holding her would know she had a brother, that her brother was looking for her, and equally that brother had money.

…

© Charles Heath – 2018-2025

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Rabat

Rabat’s Secret Side: 5 Distinctive Attractions to Escape the Crowds

When you think of Rabat, Morocco’s elegant capital, images of the iconic blue-and-white walls of the Kasbah of the Udayas or the grand silhouette of the Hassan Tower likely come to mind. And for good reason—they’re breathtaking.

But the true magic of a city often lies just beyond the postcard-perfect sights. It’s found in the quiet corners, the local haunts, and the places where the city’s pulse beats a little softer. If you’re yearning to experience the distinctive soul of Rabat without the jostle of tour groups, you’re in for a treat.

Here are five remarkable, uncrowded attractions that will show you a completely different side of this imperial city.

1. The Ancient Whispers of Chellah Necropolis

What it is: A serene, sprawling archaeological site on the outskirts of the city that feels like a world away. Chellah is a captivating fusion of history, built upon the ruins of an ancient Roman town and later transformed into a fortified medieval necropolis.

Why it’s distinctive: This isn’t just one ruin; it’s a layered tapestry of time. You can walk along ancient Roman roads, touch the weathered stones of a forum, and then explore the hauntingly beautiful ruins of a 14th-century Islamic mosque with its elegant minaret. The real stars of the show, however, are the storks. Large stork nests perch precariously atop the ruins, and their constant clacking fills the air with a wild, primitive soundtrack you won’t find anywhere else.

Why it’s not crowded: Its location, a short walk or taxi ride from the main medina, naturally filters out the casual tourist. The sheer size of the site means that even on a busy day, you can easily find a quiet corner to yourself.

Pro Tip: Visit in the late afternoon. The golden hour light casts a magical glow on the stone, and the sighing of the wind through the cypress trees makes the whole place feel truly bewitching.

2. The Botanical Wonderland: Exotic Gardens of Bouknadel

What it is: A breathtaking 17-acre botanical garden nestled between Rabat and Salé, designed in the 1950s by French landscape architect Jean-Claude Nicolas Forestier.

Why it’s distinctive: This is more than just a garden; it’s a masterclass in design. A labyrinth of paths winds through distinct zones, from an Islamic-style garden with a reflective pool to a cactus-studded desert landscape and a lush, palm-filled jungle. The garden is famous for its “Grotto Café,” a cool, subterranean restaurant built into a cave—a perfect spot for a mint tea break. It’s a tranquil, beautifully curated escape.

Why it’s not crowded: It requires a dedicated trip, so it’s often missed by those on a tight schedule. It’s a beloved spot for locals but rarely, if ever, overrun with tourists.

Pro Tip: Take your time. Don’t just look for the plants; listen for the birds. The garden is an important bird sanctuary, so bring a little patience, and you might be rewarded with some wonderful sightings.

3. An Architectural Marvel: The National Library of the Kingdom of Morocco

What it is: A stunningly modern structure that stands in stark, beautiful contrast to Rabat’s ancient history. The new building, opened in 2022, is a cultural landmark and a haven of tranquillity.

Why it’s distinctive: The architecture itself is the main event. A series of hexagonal modules create a visually striking facade inspired by traditional Moroccan geometric patterns (zellij). Inside, you’ll find a vast, light-filled reading room that feels like a cathedral of books. It’s a place where Morocco’s rich literary heritage meets cutting-edge design. You don’t need to be a researcher to appreciate the sense of peace and intellectual energy.

Why it’s not crowded: For a tourist, a library is an unconventional choice. You’ll share the space mostly with students and locals, making for an authentically peaceful and modern Moroccan experience.

Pro Tip: You can enter the public areas to admire the architecture. Check their website for visitor access policies, and be sure to walk up to the upper levels for the best view of the main reading hall.

4. A Timeless View from the Moorish Café (Café Maure)

What it is: A simple, historic café perched on a cliffside overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and the mouth of the Bou Regreg river. It has been serving tea and coffee since the early 20th century.

Why it’s distinctive: This is an experience, not just a beverage. The café offers what is arguably the single best panoramic view in Rabat. From its terrace, you can see the kasbah, the ocean, the Hassan Tower, and the city of Salé. The interior is a time capsule, with worn wooden benches and tables, and the air is thick with the scent of mint and history. The sound of crashing waves and the call to prayer drifting across the river is unforgettable.

Why it’s not crowded: While it’s well-known to residents, its simplicity deters the large tour bus crowds. It’s a place for lingering with a book or a friend, not for a quick photo stop.

Pro Tip: Go in the late afternoon and order a thé à la menthe (mint tea). There’s nothing quite like sipping the sweet, steaming tea while watching the sun dip towards the horizon.

5. The Treasure Trove: The Archaeological Museum

What it is: A compact, beautifully curated museum that houses some of Morocco’s most important archaeological finds.

Why it’s distinctive: While many museums attempt to do everything, this one has a focused, world-class collection. Its crown jewels are the incredible bronze artifacts from the Roman site of Volubilis, including a stunning portrait of Cato the Younger. The displays are excellent, providing a deep dive into the pre-Islamic cultures—from prehistoric to Roman—that shaped this land. It’s a quiet, scholarly space that tells a fascinating story often overlooked in the bustling medinas.

Why it’s not crowded: Let’s be honest: most tourists come for the souks and the sights, not the museums. This means you can often have entire rooms to yourself, allowing you to appreciate the incredible artifacts without distraction.

Pro Tip: The museum is right next to the Andalusian Gardens. Visit the gardens early when they’re quietest, and then escape into the cool, calm halls of the museum to escape the midday sun.

Ready to Discover Rabat’s Soul?

Rabat rewards the curious traveller. By stepping just a little off the main path, you’ll find a city of serene gardens, ancient echoes, and modern marvels. These five spots are just a starting point—a key to a quieter, more personal Moroccan experience.

Have you been to Rabat and discovered a hidden gem of your own? Share it in the comments below! We’d love to hear your secret spots.

“Sunday in New York”, a romantic adventure that’s not a walk in the park!

“Sunday in New York” is ultimately a story about trust, and what happens when a marriage is stretched to its limits.

When Harry Steele attends a lunch with his manager, Barclay, to discuss a promotion that any junior executive would accept in a heartbeat, it is the fact his wife, Alison, who previously professed her reservations about Barclay, also agreed to attend, that casts a small element of doubt in his mind.

From that moment, his life, in the company, in deciding what to do, his marriage, his very life, spirals out of control.

There is no one big factor that can prove Harry’s worst fears, that his marriage is over, just a number of small, interconnecting events, when piled on top of each other, points to a cataclysmic end to everything he had believed in.

Trust is lost firstly in his best friend and mentor, Andy, who only hints of impending disaster, Sasha, a woman whom he saved, and who appears to have motives of her own, and then in his wife, Alison, as he discovered piece by piece damning evidence she is about to leave him for another man.

Can we trust what we see with our eyes or trust what we hear?

Haven’t we all jumped to conclusions at least once in our lives?

Can Alison, a woman whose self-belief and confidence is about to be put to the ultimate test, find a way of proving their relationship is as strong as it has ever been?

As they say in the classics, read on!

Purchase:

http://tinyurl.com/Amazon-SundayInNewYork

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 5

Day 5 – Fiction based on fact

…

Finding the Balance: When Factual Background Meets Narrative Flow

Introduction
Imagine being immersed in a gripping novel, only to have the story halted by a lengthy explanation of 17th-century tax policies. Or picture a documentary where key context is skipped entirely, leaving you puzzled about the stakes. This is the delicate tightrope every writer walks: providing enough factual background to ground the reader while maintaining a timeline that serves the narrative. Whether you’re crafting fiction, non-fiction, or creative non-fiction, striking this balance is essential to keep your audience engaged and informed.

The Pitfalls of Overloading Factual Background

Factual background gives readers context, but when it overpowers the narrative, it becomes a barrier. Consider these scenarios:

  • Info Dumps: A historical novel that pauses for a 500-word description of a forgotten dynasty halfway through a chase scene.
  • Date Overload: A memoir listing every event in chronological order, turning the story into an encyclopedic list rather than a journey.

Impact on Engagement
Studies show that readers lose interest when factual content disrupts the flow. Excessive background can create “cognitive overload,” where the reader becomes overwhelmed and disengages. For example, a thriller filled with period-accurate military tactics might lose readers who just want to follow the protagonist’s survival.

When It Works
However, rich detail can elevate a story. The Da Vinci Code weaves historical facts into its plot without halting action, using suspense to justify context. The key is integration—not isolation.

The Challenge of Chronological vs. Non-Chronological Timelines

Timelines guide where and how the story unfolds. Sticking to a timeline ensures clarity, but deviations can add depth.

Stick to the Script: When Chronology is Key
In non-fiction, like biographies or historical analysis, strict timelines are essential for accuracy. A book about the Cold War, for example, must present events in order to maintain logical cause-and-effect.

Creative Chronology: Bending Time for Drama
Fiction often thrives on non-linear timelines. The Social Network uses a fragmented structure to build suspense around the founding of Facebook, while Lincoln sticks to a chronological rise. The choice depends on your genre:

  • Fiction: Use flashbacks or parallel timelines to reveal character motivations (e.g., Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell).
  • Non-fiction: A memoir might jump between time periods to highlight personal growth, provided transitions are clear.

The Danger of Anachronisms
Even in creative works, respecting timelines is crucial. A medieval knight quoting Shakespearean phrases or a 1920s novel lacking air travel would shatter credibility. Research is your safeguard.

Techniques to Balance Background and Story

How can writers integrate necessary information without overload? Here are practical strategies:

  1. Show, Don’t Tell
    • Reveal historical context through a character’s actions (e.g., a soldier’s uniform indicating the time period).
    • Use dialogue to drop clues: “The war’s end came as a shock,” a character might say, subtly signalling war’s conclusion.
  2. Summarise, Then Deepen
    • Start with a brief summary of the context. Introduce deeper details only when they’re relevant to the plot. For instance, a character researching a family heirloom can naturally uncover its history.
  3. Pace Your Exposition
    • Introduce background in “micro-doses.” If writing a fantasy novel about a magical kingdom, sprinkle details about its politics through different scenes: a conversation, a newspaper article, or a character’s memory.
  4. Use Tools of the Trade
    • In Media Res: Begin in the middle of the action and provide context as the story unfolds.
    • Signposts: Guide the reader with clear transitions when shifting timelines.

Case Studies in Balance

  • Book Example: Pride and Prejudice assumes readers understand 19th-century social hierarchies—Jane Austen implies, rather than explains, the system through character interactions.
  • Film Example: Inception (2010) layers timelines with clear visual cues, ensuring the complex plot remains graspable.
  • Podcast Example: Serial uses background episodes to build context in a story-heavy format, balancing narration with interviews.

Conclusion: Striking the Right Rhythm

Finding the balance between factual background and narrative flow is as much an art as it is a craft. Ask yourself:

  • Is this detail essential to the story or character development?
  • Would a timeline shift enhance the narrative, or confuse the reader?

Remember, your audience’s expectations matter. A historical mystery might require more context than a modern workplace drama. Use beta readers to pinpoint where facts eclipse the story or where confusion lingers.

Final Takeaway: Trust your reader. Provide enough to ground them, and no more. Let the timeline serve the story, not the other way around. With practice, this balance will transform from a challenge into a narrative strength.

Now, go write—without overwriting!

Call to Action: Share your favourite example of a story that balanced context and narrative perfectly. How did it keep you hooked? Let’s discuss in the comments!

“Echoes From The Past”, the past doesn’t necessarily stay there


What happens when your past finally catches up with you?

…

Christmas is just around the corner, a time to be with family. For Will Mason, an orphan since he was fourteen, it is a time for reflection on what his life could have been, and what it could be.

Until a chance encounter brings back to life the reasons for his twenty years of self-imposed exile from a life only normal people could have. From that moment Will’s life slowly starts to unravel and it’s obvious to him it’s time to move on.

This time, however, there is more at stake.

Will has broken his number one rule, don’t get involved.

With his nemesis, Eddie Jamieson, suddenly within reach, and a blossoming relationship with an office colleague, Maria, about to change everything, Will has to make a choice. Quietly leave, or finally, make a stand.

But as Will soon discovers, when other people are involved there is going to be terrible consequences no matter what choice he makes.

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newechocover5rs

In a word: Great

Or is it grate?

Is it possible to mix the two up?  I don’t think so.

Great usually means: everything is great, or good, or excellent, whatever degree of goodness you want to put to it.

It could also mean something else, like:  Well, you were a great help! when in fact you want to say how useless they were.

Large or little.

Like all creatures great and small,  Why not say big or small.  Big doesn’t quite have the same effect.

Of course, you could be a great person, well, what I really mean is distinguished.  Besides, great could mean way above average, too.  Or grand, or impressive, the list goes on.

And haven’t we all, at some time had a great-aunt.  No not the good one, the ‘great’ one, denoting her seniority, not necessarily how nice she is.

 

As for the other grate, we can build a fire in it.

Or add an ‘un’ in front and ‘ful’ at the end, to denote what parents sometimes think of their children

Or get a block of cheese and ‘grate’ it into small shreds.

Or speak in a voice that grates on your nerves, possibly by that great-aunt.

‘What Sets Us Apart’ – A beta readers 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 to 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!

…

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

…

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to write a war story – Episode 27

For a story that was conceived during those long boring hours flying in a steel cocoon, striving to keep away the thoughts that the plane and everyone in it could just simply disappear as planes have in the past, it has come a long way.

Whilst I have always had a fascination with what happened during the second world war, not the battles or fighting, but in the more obscure events that took place, I decided to pen my own little sidebar to what was a long and bitter war.

And, so, it continues…

…

Rolf Mayer had only ever wanted to design and build rockets for the exploration of space.

Somewhere between the germination of that desire, and where he was right now, in the back of a black Mercedes SS staff car heading south towards Nuremberg something had gone horribly wrong.

Back at Nordhausen, he may have been terrified most of the time from the demands of the Reich, and the horrors of how the Reich was achieving its goals, but he was, at least, safe.

Now he was a traitor, with stolen plans, with two Britisher spies, heading for Italy and from there to, well it hadn’t quite been specified where he might end up, but he assumed it would be England.

As yet they had not asked him whether he had the answer to stop this new weapon, and, if he really thought about it, there wasn’t an answer.  Perhaps, with a sense of irony, he could say that in kidnapping him, they might not fix the gyro guidance system which caused a lot of the rockets to go off course and miss their intended targets, but still, a large number would still reach their destination with devasting effect.

As for stopping it, he doubted it could be done.  They were fired from mobile positions, and there were no static launching sites so the enemy couldn’t bomb those sites, nor could they stop their production of them because it was underground.  A lot of lessons had been learned since Pennemunde.

And that brought another thought to mind.  Who was the enemy now, if he was willing to go with these spies?  He was German, and he loved his country, but seeing what he had seen, it was hard to balance that patriotism with the means to achieve their goals.  Perhaps the blame lay with the Fuhrer, but no one ever spoke of what they really thought, only of their undying allegiance to the mother country and its heroic leader.

No doubt, when he reached his final destination he was going to hear a lot of things that may or may not be true about Reich and its leadership.

Mayer noticed the Standartenfuhrer had a map and at various times they would stop the car and consult the map, an older touring map that predated the war.

Listening to their conversations he had learned that the car had a 50-litre tank that was full at the start of their journey.  From Nordhausen to Weimar had been 120 kilometres and had used about 18 litres of petrol.  From that, he deduced that the car would go about 300 kilometres per tankful.  This means they would need more petrol before they reached Nurnberg.

It was one thing to say they were going to take care of the details but getting one of the most heavily rationed commodities in Germany, or anywhere within the sphere of the Reich was nigh on impossible.  He knew this simply because his superiors at the Nordhausen site couldn’t get any petrol for their vehicles.

At this stage of the war, a war they were continually told they were winning, there seemed precious little of anything still available or not rationed, especially food.  Because they were SS they fared reasonably well, but the others not so much, making him feel guilty that he was not going hungry like everyone else.

In fact, he was feeling hungry now, and he didn’t remember seeing any food in the car.

Some distances from Bayreuth, after passing through another checkpoint, they stopped a further 10 kilometres up the road, in a layby that sheltered them from any other traffic, not that there had been anything other than army convoys.  Several times there had been aeroplanes overhead, either coming or going in small groups, perhaps training runs, so perhaps there was a Luftwaffe station nearby

Outside there was another consultation of the map and then the driver headed towards the rear of the car and opened the trunk.  The Standartenfuhrer opened the door.  “You can get out and stretch your legs.”

Mayer climbed out and found just how stiff and sore he was, and it hadn’t been a very long drive, but the roads were not as good as they once were, before the war.

Then he noticed the driver lugging a large can to the petrol cap, opened it, put a funnel in and with some assistance, started refilling the tank.  When he walked towards the rear of the car he saw six such cans in the trunk.  They had come prepared, and given the nature of how they had collected him, he realized that he had been targeted, which meant someone inside the Nordhausen complex was an agent working for British Intelligence.

They emptied two of the tanks into the car, and replaced the cans back in the trunk.

The Standartenfuhrer called him over to show him the map.

It had a line roughly drawn from Nordhausen down to Florence, and notes on the side in red, the most pertinent being the distance by road, if they could take the direct route, which now he knew the circumstances, they could not, was about 1,150 kilometres.

Even in the best of circumstances that would take about three days, maybe more.  And there was certainly not enough fuel in the rear truck to go the whole distance.

The Standartenfuhrer ran his finger down the line, “This is the intended route we decided on, though not exactly sticking to the main roads.  We do not anticipate problems in Germany, but once we cross into Austria and onto Innsbruck there might be a few problems.  We’re not quite sure what to expect at the border.”

“There is no border, not as far as the Reich and the Fuehrer is concerned.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.  But I think it’s about time we had a talk about what happened if anything happens to the two of us.  We’re not planning to get captured, or killed if it’s possible but there’s a lot of risks involved in an operation like this.”

“You expect me to go on alone?”

“Yes.  With the plans and drawings.  You have to get to a town called Gaiole in Chianti which is about 70 kilometres south of Florence.  There you will need to find a man named Luigi Fosini, who will take care of the rest of your journey.  There is a code you will need to give him, but we’ll talk about that later.  All you need, for now, is the destination.”

Discussion over, they got back in the car and continued on their way.

Then he realized he’d forgotten to ask about food, but judging by the dark expressions they wore, he decided to wait a little longer.

© Charles Heath 2020-2022