Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Geneva

Discover Geneva’s Hidden Charms: 5 Off‑The‑Beaten‑Path Experiences Worth Your Time

Geneva is famous for its Jet d’Eau, luxury watches, and the United Nations. But beyond the postcard views lies a quieter, more authentic side of the city that most visitors never see. If you’re craving a genuine Swiss adventure, step off the tourist trail and explore these five lesser‑known gems.


1. Stroll Through the Bohemian Quarter of Carouge

Why it’s a road‑less‑travelled treasure
Carouge feels like a slice of Mediterranean Italy tucked into Swiss territory. Founded in the 18th century by the Sardinian king, its pastel‑colored façades, wrought‑iron balconies, and narrow cobblestone lanes create an intimate, artsy vibe that’s a world away from Geneva’s polished business district.

What to do

  • Boutique hunting: Pop into independent fashion studios, vintage shops, and artisanal leather workshops.
  • Café culture: Grab a cappuccino at Café du Centre or a craft coffee at Café de la Tour while people‑watching on the lively Place du Bourg‑de‑Four.
  • Artisan markets: Every Saturday morning, the Marché de Carouge offers handmade ceramics, jewellery, and local produce.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Take tram 12 from the city centre (stop “Carouge‑Mairie”) – a 10‑minute ride.
  • Best time: Late afternoon (around 4 pm) when the cafés fill up but the streets haven’t yet emptied.
  • Cost: Free to wander; budget CHF 15–30 for a coffee and a small souvenir.

2. Peek Inside the CERN Microcosm & Large Hadron Collider

Why it’s a road‑less‑travelled treasure
While CERN is a magnet for physics aficionados, most tourists never step inside the underground world where the universe’s smallest particles are smashed together. The Microcosm exhibition demystifies complex science with interactive displays, and the guided tunnel tour lets you stand at the edge of the famous LHC ring.

What to do

  • Microcosm museum: Touch a replica of a proton, watch a 3‑D video of the Higgs boson discovery, and explore the history of particle physics.
  • LHC tunnel tour: Walk (or take a shuttle) into the 27‑km circular tunnel that lies 100 m beneath the French‑Swiss border.

Practical tips

  • Booking: Free admission, but you must reserve a tunnel tour online at least 48 hours in advance (slots fill quickly).
  • Getting there: Take the train from Geneva’s main station to CERN (approx. 10 min) or the tram 18 to “CERN – Meyrin”.
  • Best time: Early morning (first tour slots at 9 am) for the smallest crowds.
  • Safety: Wear comfortable shoes; the tunnel is cool and slightly humid.

3. Hike the Salève – Geneva’s “Balcony”

Why it’s a road‑less‑travelled treasure
Often eclipsed by the Alpine giants, the Salève is a modest limestone mountain just across the border in France. Its gentle slopes and panoramic vistas make it a perfect day‑trip for hikers who want sweeping views of Geneva, Mont Blanc, and the Jura without the crowds of larger peaks.

What to do

  • Trail options: From the easy “Le Petit Plateau” loop (2 km) to the more challenging “Sentier du Grand Fossé” (6 km).
  • Summit café: Stop at Le Café du Salève for a hot chocolate while soaking up 360° vistas.
  • Paragliding: For the adventurous, the summit launch site offers tandem flights with certified pilots.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Take the bus 57 from “Place des Eaux-Vives” to “Veyrier‑Le‑Pilat”, then a short 15‑minute walk to the trailhead.
  • Best time: Late spring (May–June) when wildflowers bloom, or early autumn for crisp air and fewer hikers.
  • Gear: Sturdy hiking boots, water bottle, and a light jacket (weather changes quickly on the summit).

4. Dip into Local Life at Bains des Pâquis

Why it’s a road‑less‑travelled treasure
Nestled on a small pier in Lake Geneva, the Bains des Pâquis is a beloved community spot where locals swim, sauna, and enjoy affordable meals. It’s a rare chance to mingle with Genevans in a relaxed, multicultural setting—something you rarely experience at the glitzy hotel pools.

What to do

  • Open‑air swimming: The lake’s water is chilly (12–16 °C), but the experience is invigorating, especially in summer.
  • Sauna & hammam: Warm up after a dip in the traditional Finnish sauna or the fragrant hammam.
  • Fondue night: From dusk till late, the on‑site restaurant serves classic cheese fondue and raclette at wallet‑friendly prices (CHF 12–18).

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Walk 10 minutes from the “Moulin” bus stop (tram line 12) or take a short boat ride from the jetty near the Jet d’Eau.
  • Opening hours: 7 am–11 pm (sauna closes at 9 pm).
  • Cost: Swimming area CHF 5; sauna CHF 7; meals as listed above. Bring a towel and a swimsuit (no rentals).

5. Wander the Conservatory and Botanical Garden (Jardin Botanique)

Why it’s a road‑less‑travelled treasure
Tucked behind the historic Cité des Sciences building, the botanical garden is a serene oasis featuring more than 7,000 plant species, themed greenhouses, and a tranquil pond that mirrors the surrounding trees. It’s a perfect sanctuary for nature lovers seeking quiet contemplation away from the city buzz.

What to do

  • Themed greenhouses: Explore the tropical rainforest house, the succulent desert dome, and the elegant orchid collection.
  • Seasonal exhibitions: Spring brings a dazzling tulip display; autumn showcases native alpine flora.
  • Educational workshops: Free guided tours on plant conservation are offered on weekends.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Tram 15 to “Conservatoire” (stop “Conservatoire”). The garden entrance is a two‑minute walk from the tram stop.
  • Best time: Early morning (8–10 am) for soft lighting and minimal foot traffic.
  • Admission: Free (donations welcomed).
  • What to bring: Comfortable shoes, a notebook for sketching, and a camera (no flash in the greenhouses).

Wrap‑Up: Embrace Geneva’s Quiet Side

While the Jet d’Eau and the Old Town sparkle with tourist energy, Geneva’s hidden corners reveal a city that balances cosmopolitan flair with authentic local life. From the artisan streets of Carouge to the scientific wonder of CERN, the lofty views of Salève, the communal warmth of the Bains, and the botanical whispers of the Conservatory—each experience invites you to travel a road less travelled and return home with stories that only a handful of travellers have heard.

Ready to explore? Pack a light backpack, swap your guidebook for a curiosity‑filled mind, and let Geneva’s secret sides surprise you.

Got a favourite off‑the‑beaten‑path spot in Geneva? Share it in the comments below and inspire the next wanderer!

What I learned about writing – Children make excellent characters

It seems that there are many ways of bringing children to life in your stories.

The most obvious is your own, but those traits might seem so polarised they and others might realise who they are based on, with the distress that comes with it.

Then there are the children of your friends and relationships, definitely fodder for many stories because those children are definitely far worse than your own, or better perhaps.

It leaves you questioning where you went wrong, or why you didn’t get the manual when the hospital kicked to the kerb with this screaming bundle of joy, their words not yours.

So we start with real-life experiences.

To muddy the waters so they don’t get the impression you’re paying out on them, you can always add the traits of those you see in the shopping malls.

Shopping malls are a gold mine for behavioural traits, from the very worst tantrum thrower to the best behaved. For my money and proven time and time again, those well-dressed, very well-behaved children are purely evil.

With the tantrum thrower, what you see if what you get.

With the well-behaved, you spend all of your time watching your back and waiting for the knife to penetrate your spine between the fourth and fifth vertebrae. You just know instinctively they’re medical school prodigies.

Of course, there are one or two good children, Santa has to have a reason for existence, but they are like 1,000 ounce gold nuggets; very, very hard to find.

“The Things We Do For Love”

Would you give up everything to be with the one you love?

Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?

For Henry, the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself.  It takes him to a small village by the sea, a place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.

Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end, both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.  

Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.

A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone.  To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.

But can love conquer all?

It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red-light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.

The cover, at the moment, looks like this:

lovecoverfinal1

Is love the metaphorical equivalent to ‘walking the plank’; a dive into uncharted waters?

For Henry, the only romance he was interested in was a life at sea, and when away from it, he strived to find sanctuary from his family and perhaps life itself.  It takes him to a small village by the sea, s place he never expected to find another just like him, Michelle, whom he soon discovers is as mysterious as she is beautiful.

Henry had long since given up the notion of finding romance, and Michelle couldn’t get involved for reasons she could never explain, but in the end, both acknowledge that something happened the moment they first met.  

Plans were made, plans were revised, and hopes were shattered.

A chance encounter causes Michelle’s past to catch up with her, and whatever hope she had of having a normal life with Henry, or anyone else, is gone.  To keep him alive she has to destroy her blossoming relationship, an act that breaks her heart and shatters his.

But can love conquer all?

It takes a few words of encouragement from an unlikely source to send Henry and his friend Radly on an odyssey into the darkest corners of the red-light district in a race against time to find and rescue the woman he finally realizes is the love of his life.

The cover, at the moment, looks like this:

lovecoverfinal1

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Lucerne

The Untouched Side of Lucerne: 5 Off‑the‑Beaten‑Path Experiences Worth Your Time

When most travellers think of Lucerne, the mind instantly jumps to its iconic Chapel Bridge, the towering Lion Monument, and the glittering waters of Lake Lucerne. Those are, of course, must‑see sights—but after you’ve snapped a photo of the medieval wooden bridge, you’ll probably crave something a little more intimate, a little more local.

Below is a curated list of five experiences that sit just beyond the typical tourist trail. They’re perfect for curious explorers who want to feel the pulse of Lucerne’s culture, nature, and history without the crowds.


1. Hike the Seeboden Alp – A Quiet Alpine Meadow With Panoramic Views

Why it’s special: While the classic Rigi‑Panorama trail draws hundreds of hikers each day, the Seeboden Alp route (also called the “Hidden Alpine Meadow”) remains a serene escape. Beginning at the Kreuzlingen train station (a short 10‑minute ride from Lucerne’s main station), the trail winds through pine forests, past crystal‑clear streams, and finally opens onto a broad alpine pasture that offers unobstructed 360° views of the Rigi, Pilatus, and the Central Swiss Alps.

What to expect:

ItemDetails
DifficultyModerate – steady ascent (≈ 400 m elevation gain) over 3 km (round‑trip).
Time needed1.5–2 hours (including photo stops).
Best seasonLate June to early October – wildflowers in full bloom, snow‑free paths.
What to bringSturdy hiking shoes, water bottle, a light jacket (weather changes quickly at altitude).
Hidden gemNear the meadow’s highest point lies a small, centuries‑old shepherd’s hut that still hosts occasional cheese‑making demonstrations on weekends.

Tip: Grab a Bündner cheese platter from the nearby Kreuzlingen Café before you set off – the fresh alpine cheese pairs perfectly with the panoramic vista.


2. Discover the Münsterplatz Secret Garden – A Verdant Oasis Behind the Cathedral

Why it’s special: Tucked behind the St. Leodegar’s Cathedral (the “Münster”) is a modest, privately‑maintained garden that most visitors never notice. The garden was originally created in the 19th century by a local merchant’s family as a private retreat and was opened to the public only a few years ago.

What you’ll love:

  • Botanical variety: Over 60 species of Alpine roses, lavender, and wild herbs flourish here, creating a fragrant scent trail that drifts out onto the square.
  • Historical whispers: A marble bench inscribed with a 1902 dedication reads, “Für die Ruhe der Seele” (“For the peace of the soul”). The bench has become a favoured spot for local poets and book clubs.
  • Artistic surprises: Every summer, a local artist collective installs rotating sculptures made from reclaimed wood and stone—perfect for Instagram‑ready shots without the crowds.

How to visit:

  • Access: Walk straight through the cathedral’s side entrance onto Kleinbaslertrasse; a discreet wooden gate leads into the garden.
  • Opening hours: 9 am–6 pm (closed on Mondays).
  • Cost: Free – donations are welcome at a small, tastefully designed donation box.

Tip: Pair your visit with a quick stop at the Café du Lac just across the square for a slice of Zuger Roggenbrot and a steaming cup of locally roasted coffee.


3. Board a Traditional Schiff to Ufenau Island – Switzerland’s Smallest Inhabited Island

Why it’s special: While most lake tours circle the main harbours, a morning “Ufenau Express” departs from the Kornmarkt dock and takes you to the tiny island of Ufenau, situated just a few kilometres downstream from Lucerne. The island hosts an 11th‑century Benedictine chapel, a modest vineyard, and a tranquil walking trail that circles the perimeter.

Highlights:

  • Historical depth: The chapel, St. Peter & St. Paul, survived the Reformation and still hosts occasional organ concerts in the summer.
  • Wine tasting: A small family‑run winery produces a crisp Riviera Pinot Noir that you can sample right on the island’s sun‑warmed terrace.
  • Birdwatching: Ufenau is a protected nesting ground for white‑tailed eagles and golden plovers—bring binoculars for a rewarding encounter.

Practicalities:

ItemDetails
Departure9:15 am and 2:30 pm daily (July–September).
Duration45 minutes each way, plus 1‑hour island stay.
Ticket priceCHF 12 return (includes a brief guided tour).
What to packComfortable shoes, a light windbreaker, and a reusable water bottle.
AccessibilitySmall ramp available for wheelchair users; however, the island’s paths are uneven, so assistance may be needed.

Tip: Combine this trip with a lunch at the Lakeside Restaurant “Seespitz” in nearby Weggis—order the fresh‑caught perch with a side of herb‑infused potatoes for an authentic lakeside feast.


4. Explore the Musegg Wall’s Hidden Courtyards – Medieval Fortifications With a Modern Twist

Why it’s special: The iconic Musegg Wall—the well‑preserved part of Lucerne’s old city fortifications—features six towers (including the famous Zytturm). While most tourists climb the Zytturm for its city views, the inner courtyards behind the lesser‑known towers, especially the Löwendenkmal Tower (Lion Tower), remain quiet and surprisingly artistic.

What you’ll find:

  • Secret exhibitions: Each courtyard hosts rotating pop‑up galleries showcasing works by emerging Swiss photographers and sculptors.
  • Interactive history: QR codes installed on stone walls lead to short augmented‑reality videos that reconstruct medieval daily life—watch a blacksmith at work or a merchant’s stall bustling with trade.
  • Rooftop café: The “Turmlounge” atop the Schaulaufen Tower (open only on Saturdays) serves a selection of local pastries, honey‑infused tea, and a spectacular view of the Reuss River in a peaceful setting.

How to make the most of it:

  1. Start at the Schnürschlösschen Gate—enter the wall’s pathway and follow the wooden signposts labelled “Kunst & Geschichte”.
  2. Take your time in each courtyard; the installations are designed for contemplation, not rush.
  3. Check the calendar on the city’s tourism website for the “Musegg Night” event, where the courtyards are lit by candlelight and local musicians perform acoustic sets.

Tip: Bring a small sketchbook. The quiet corners are perfect for drawing, and you might catch a street performer impromptu sketching session.


5. Ride the Historic Pilatus Bahn to Kriens‑Imfeld – A Scenic Railway Journey With a Surprise Picnic Spot

Why it’s special: Everyone knows about the Pilatus Railway (the world’s steepest cogwheel line) that rockets tourists up to the summit of Mount Pilatus. However, the first leg of the line, from Alpnachstad to Kriens‑Imfeld, is a gorgeous, lesser‑known ride that offers sweeping views of Lake Lucerne, the surrounding alpine ridges, and quaint farming villages—all without the crowds that flood the summit during peak season.

What makes it unique:

  • Historic carriages: The early‑20th‑century wooden carriages retain their original brass fittings and plush leather seats, creating a nostalgic travel experience.
  • Picnic paradise: At the Imfeld Station, a small meadow opens up beside the railway, dotted with wild strawberries in early summer. A traditional “Bürli”—a wooden table with benches—invites you to lay out a picnic while enjoying the gentle hum of the passing train.
  • Local flavours: The nearby Imfeld Bakery sells freshly baked “Saffron‑Rosinen‑Brot” (saffron raisin bread) and a selection of homemade jams made from locally harvested berries.

Logistics:

ItemDetails
DepartureTrains run every hour from Alpnachstad between 8 am–5 pm (May–September).
TicketCHF 7 one‑way (discounted day‑pass available).
Duration15 minutes to Imfeld; optional onward hike of 2 km to the Bergsee (mountain lake).
Best time to visitEarly morning (8–10 am) for tranquil light and fewer passengers.
AccessibilityCarriages are wheelchair‑compatible, but the meadow has uneven ground.

Tip: Purchase a “Picnic Pass” at the Imfeld ticket window – it includes a voucher for a slice of Alpine cheese tart from the station café, plus a reusable wooden cutlery set (eco‑friendly and perfect for your spontaneous snack).


Bonus: How to Blend These Experiences Into One Perfect Day

If you’re staying in Lucerne for a short visit and want to sample a slice of each hidden gem, here’s a suggested itinerary:

TimeActivity
08:00Grab a quick croissant at Café Heini and head to Alpnachstad for the Pilatus Bahn ride.
09:00Arrive at Kriens‑Imfeld, enjoy the meadow picnic and stroll to the Bergsee.
11:30Take the train back to Lucerne, then hop on the Ufenau Express from Kornmarkt.
13:00Disembark on Ufenau Island, explore the chapel, and sip wine on the terrace.
14:30Return to Lucerne; walk through the Münsterplatz Secret Garden for a quiet afternoon tea.
16:00Head to Musegg Wall – wander the hidden courtyards and perhaps catch a pop‑up gallery.
18:00Finish the day with a gentle hike to Seeboden Alp for sunset views over the lakes and mountains.
20:00Dinner at Restaurant Nidelgau (book a table with lake view).

Adjust the timing according to the season and your personal pace—each stop can easily become a half‑day adventure if you wish!


Final Thoughts

Lucerne’s charm isn’t confined to its postcard‑perfect bridges and bustling promenades. By stepping off the well‑trodden path, you’ll discover serene alpine meadows, hidden gardens, intimate islands, and living pieces of history that reveal the city’s authentic soul.

Whether you’re a seasoned backpacker, a history buff, or simply a curious traveller seeking a quieter connection with Switzerland’s heart, these five hidden gems promise unforgettable moments—far from the crowds but close to the spirit of Lucerne.

Pack your camera, bring an open mind, and let the road less travelled become your favourite story to tell.

An excerpt from “If Only” – a work in progress

Investigation of crimes doesn’t always go according to plan, nor does the perpetrator get either found or punished.

That was particularly true in my case.  The murderer was incredibly careful in not leaving any evidence behind, to the extent that the police could not rule out whether it was a male or a female.

At one stage the police thought I had murdered my own wife though how I could be on a train at the time of the murder was beyond me.  I had witnesses and a cast-iron alibi.

The officer in charge was Detective First Grade Gabrielle Walters.  She came to me on the day after the murder seeking answers to the usual questions like, when was the last time you saw your wife, did you argue, the neighbors reckon there were heated discussions the day before.

Routine was the word she used.

Her fellow detective was a surly piece of work whose intention was to get answers or, more likely, a confession by any or all means possible.  I could sense the raging violence within him.  Fortunately, common sense prevailed.

Over the course of the next few weeks, once I’d been cleared of committing the crime, Gabrielle made a point of keeping me informed of the progress.

After three months the updates were more sporadic, and when, for lack of progress, it became a cold case, communication ceased.

But it was not the last I saw of Gabrielle.

The shock of finding Vanessa was more devastating than the fact she was now gone, and those images lived on in the same nightmare that came to visit me every night when I closed my eyes.

For months I was barely functioning, to the extent I had all but lost my job, and quite a few friends, particularly those who were more attached to Vanessa rather than me.

They didn’t understand how it could affect me so much, and since it had not happened to them, my tart replies of ‘you wouldn’t understand’ were met with equally short retorts.  Some questioned my sanity, even, for a time, so did I.

No one, it seemed, could understand what it was like, no one except Gabrielle.

She was by her own admission, damaged goods, having been the victim of a similar incident, a boyfriend who turned out to be an awfully bad boy.  Her story varied only in she had been made to witness his execution.  Her nightmare, in reliving that moment in time, was how she was still alive and, to this day, had no idea why she’d been spared.

It was a story she told me one night, some months after the investigation had been scaled down.  I was still looking for the bottom of a bottle and an emotional mess.  Perhaps it struck a resonance with her; she’d been there and managed to come out the other side.

What happened become our secret, a once-only night together that meant a great deal to me, and by mutual agreement, it was not spoken of again.  It was as if she knew exactly what was required to set me on the path to recovery.

And it had.

Since then, we saw each about once a month in a cafe.   I had been surprised to hear from her again shortly after that eventful night when she called to set it up, ostensibly for her to provide me with any updates on the case, but perhaps we had, after that unspoken night, formed a closer bond than either of us wanted to admit.

We generally talked for hours over wine, then dinner and coffee.  It took a while for me to realize that all she had was her work, personal relationships were nigh on impossible in a job that left little or no spare time for anything else.

She’d always said that if I had any questions or problems about the case, or if there was anything that might come to me that might be relevant, even after all this time, all I had to do was call her.

I wondered if this text message was in that category.  I was certain it would interest the police and I had no doubt they could trace the message’s origin, but there was that tiny degree of doubt, about whether or not I could trust her to tell me what the message meant.

I reached for the phone then put it back down again.  I’d think about it and decide tomorrow.

© Charles Heath 2018-2020

Writing a book in 365 days – 351

Day 351

“Why a Budding Author Should Dive into Joan Didion’s Masterful Body of Work”

For aspiring writers, the journey to finding one’s voice is as much about discovery as it is about study. Joan Didion, a literary icon whose career spans decades, offers a treasure trove of insights for those seeking to refine their craft. From her sharp-eyed novels to her incisive essays, Didion’s work is a masterclass in clarity, emotional resonance, and the art of observation. Let’s explore how delving into her oeuvre—comprising five seminal novels, screenplays, and countless articles and essays—can illuminate the path for emerging authors.


1. Novels: The Power of Precision and Dissecting the Human Condition

Didion’s novels—Run, RiverPlay It as It LaysA Book of Common PrayerThe Last Thing He Wanted, and Marry Me—are defined by their sparse, crystalline prose and unflinching exploration of identity, disillusionment, and collapse. For a budding author, studying her work reveals a critical lesson: less is not just more—it’s everything. Didion strips language of excess, using plain, punchy sentences to evoke profound unease or beauty. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live,” she famously writes in The White Album—a philosophy that permeates her fiction, where characters are often unravelling personal myths in a disintegrating world.
Aspiring writers can learn to mirror this by focusing on what isn’t said and how silence, space, and subtext amplify meaning. Her characters also serve as case studies in emotional complexity; they’re flawed, often detached, yet achingly human. How does Didion achieve this? By grounding them in precise details—a crumbling California landscape, a flicker of a smile—that anchor the surreal in the real.


2. Screenplays: Visual Storytelling and the Art of Compression

Didion’s screenplays (notably A Point of No Return and Up at the Villas) offer a different but equally valuable lesson. Adapting her own stories and others’, she demonstrates how to transform prose into visceral, visual narratives. Screenwriting demands concision; dialogue must carry weight, and scenes must be sculpted to evoke emotion without over-explaining. For an author interested in crossing genres, Didion’s screenplays are a masterclass in pacing and economy.
Take Up at the Villas, adapted from her 1982 novel of the same name. The screenplay retains the novel’s cold, observational tone but distils its themes into sharp, symbolic images—a storm, a locked door—to convey what words alone might not. For writers, this is a reminder that showing, not telling, is a skill honed through ruthless editing. Studying her scripts can teach how to craft tension through structure and dialogue, even in literary works.


3. Essays and Journalism: The Alchemy of Observation and Truth-Telling

Joan Didion’s nonfiction—collected in volumes like The White AlbumSlouching Toward Bethlehem, and Where I Was From—is where her genius as a writer truly shines. Her essays are micro-surgeries of culture, politics, and personal history, blending reportage with poetic reflection. How can a budding author benefit from this?

  • The art of the unsparingly honest narrative: Didion doesn’t flinch from ambiguity. She asks, What do we do when we can’t believe the story we’ve told ourselves? This intellectual honesty teaches writers to dig deeper, to question their own assumptions.
  • The marriage of personal and political: In pieces like “Los Angeles Notebook” or “On Self Respect”, Didion ties intimate self-doubt to societal decay. Aspiring authors can learn to weave the private and the public, creating work that resonates beyond the individual.
  • Research as storytelling: Her essays are meticulously researched yet read like lyrical journeys. Writers can study how she transforms facts into narrative threads without losing a reader’s interest.

4. Beyond Technique: Embracing Didion’s Curiosity and Courage

Perhaps the most profound lesson from Didion’s work is her relentless curiosity and willingness to confront the uncomfortable. Her writing force-feeds the idea that truth is not a destination but a process. For emerging authors, this mindset—questioning, observing, and daring to write what feels fragile or controversial—can be transformative. Didion’s essays on the Vietnam War, the Manson Family, or her own grief in The Year of Magical Thinking demand that we look at the world with both empathy and rigour.


Conclusion: Let the Questions Be the Point

Reading Joan Didion is not just about learning how to write—it’s about learning how to see. Her work challenges authors to strip away the superfluous, to wield language like a scalpel, and to embrace the messiness of human experience. For a budding writer, this is an unparalleled education. Start with her essays; they are accessible and brimming with insight. Then, move to her novels and screenplays to understand how themes translate across genres. Finally, ask yourself: What story have I been avoiding, and how can I tell it with Didion’s clarity?

In a world of noise, Didion’s voice cuts through with surgical precision. For any writer seeking to carve their own path, her work is not just a blueprint—it’s an invitation to observe, to question, and to distil the chaos of life into something that might resonate for generations.

So pick up a Joan Didion. Let her words unsettle you. Then, let me know how far you’ve come.

An excerpt from “One Last Look”: Charlotte is no ordinary girl

This is currently available at Amazon herehttp://amzn.to/2CqUBcz

I’d read about out-of-body experiences, and like everyone else, thought it was nonsense.  Some people claimed to see themselves in the operating theatre, medical staff frantically trying to revive them, and being surrounded by white light.

I was definitely looking down, but it wasn’t me I was looking at.

It was two children, a boy and a girl, with their parents, in a park.

The boy was Alan.  He was about six or seven.  The girl was Louise, and she was five years old.  She had long red hair and looked the image of her mother.

I remember it now, it was Louise’s birthday and we went down to Bournemouth to visit our Grandmother, and it was the last time we were all together as a family.

We were flying homemade kites our father had made for us, and after we lay there looking up at the sky, making animals out of the clouds.  I saw an elephant, Louise saw a giraffe.

We were so happy then.

Before the tragedy.

When I looked again ten years had passed and we were living in hell.  Louise and I had become very adept at survival in a world we really didn’t understand, surrounded by people who wanted to crush our souls.

It was not a life a normal child had, our foster parents never quite the sort of people who were adequately equipped for two broken-hearted children.  They tried their best, but their best was not good enough.

Every day it was a battle, to avoid the Bannister’s and Archie in particular, every day he made advances towards Louise and every day she fended him off.

Until one day she couldn’t.

Now I was sitting in the hospital, holding Louise’s hand.  She was in a coma, and the doctors didn’t think she would wake from it.  The damage done to her was too severe.

The doctors were wrong.

She woke, briefly, to name her five assailants.  It was enough to have them arrested.  It was not enough to have them convicted.

Justice would have to be served by other means.

I was outside the Bannister’s home.

I’d made my way there without really thinking, after watching Louise die.  It was like being on autopilot, and I had no control over what I was doing.  I had murder in mind.  It was why I was holding an iron bar.

Skulking in the shadows.  It was not very different from the way the Bannister’s operated.

I waited till Archie came out.  I knew he eventually would.  The police had taken him to the station for questioning, and then let him go.  I didn’t understand why, nor did I care.

I followed him up the towpath, waiting till he stopped to light a cigarette, then came out of the shadows.

“Wotcha got there Alan?” he asked when he saw me.  He knew what it was, and what it was for.

It was the first time I’d seen the fear in his eyes.  He was alone.

“Justice.”

“For that slut of a sister of yours.  I had nuffing to do with it.”

“She said otherwise, Archie.”

“She never said nuffing, you just made it up.”  An attempt at bluster, but there was no confidence in his voice.

I held up the pipe.  It had blood on it.  Willy’s blood.  “She may or may not have Archie, but Willy didn’t make it up.  He sang like a bird.  That’s his blood, probably brains on the pipe too, Archie, and yours will be there soon enough.”

“He dunnit, not me.  Lyin’ bastard would say anything to save his own skin.”  Definitely scared now, he was looking to run away.

“No, Archie.  He didn’t.  I’m coming for you.  All of you Bannisters.  And everyone who touched my sister.”

It was the recurring nightmare I had for years afterwards.

I closed my eyes and tried to shut out the thoughts, the images of Louise, the phone call, the visit to the hospital and being there when she succumbed to her injuries.  Those were the very worst few hours of my life.

She had asked me to come to the railway station and walk home with her, and I was running late.  If I had left when I was supposed to, it would never have happened and for years afterwards, I blamed myself for her death.

If only I’d not been late…

When the police finally caught the rapists, I’d known all along who they’d be; antagonists from school, the ring leader, Archie Bannister, a spurned boyfriend, a boy whose parents, ubiquitously known to all as ‘the Bannister’s, dealt in violence and crime and who owned the neighbourhood.  The sins of the father had been very definitely passed onto the son.

At school, I used to be the whipping boy, Archie, a few grades ahead of me, made a point of belting me and a few of the other boys, to make sure the rest did as they were told.  He liked Louise, but she had no time for a bully like him, even when he promised he would ‘protect’ me.

I knew the gang members, the boys who tow-kowed to save getting beaten up, and after the police couldn’t get enough information to prosecute them because everyone was too afraid to speak out, I went after Willy.  There was always a weak link in a group, and he was it.

He worked in a factory, did long hours on a Wednesday and came home after dark alone.  It was a half mile walk, through a park.  The night I approached him, I smashed the lights and left it in darkness.  He nearly changed his mind and went the long way home.

He didn’t.

It took an hour and a half to get the names.  At first, when he saw me, he laughed.  He said I would be next, and that was four words more than he knew he should have said.

When I found him alone the next morning I showed him the iron bar and told him he was on the list.  I didn’t kill him then, he could wait his turn, and worry about what was going to happen to him.

When the police came to visit me shortly after that encounter, no doubt at the behest of the Bannister’s, the neighbourhood closed ranks and gave me an ironclad alibi.  The Bannister’s then came to visit me and threatened me.  I told them their days were numbered and showed them the door.

At the trial, he and his friends got off on a technicality.  The police had failed to do their job properly, but it was not the police, but a single policeman, corrupted by the Bannisters.

Archie could help but rub it in my face.  He was invincible.

Joe Collins took 12 bullets and six hours to bleed out.  He apologized, he pleaded, he cried, he begged.  I didn’t care.

Barry Mills, a strong lad with a mind to hurting people, Archie’s enforcer, almost got the better of me.  I had to hit him more times than I wanted to, and in the end, I had to be satisfied that he died a short but agonizing death.

I revisited Willy in the hospital.  He’d recovered enough to recognize me, and why I’d come.  Suffocation was too good for him.

David Williams, second in command of the gang, was as tough and nasty as the Bannisters.  His family were forging a partnership with the Bannister’s to make them even more powerful.  Outwardly David was a pleasant sort of chap, affable, polite, and well mannered.  A lot of people didn’t believe he could be like, or working with, the Bannisters.

He and I met in the pub.  We got along like old friends.  He said Willy had just named anyone he could think of, and that he was innocent of any charges.  We shook hands and parted as friends.

Three hours later he was sitting in a chair in the middle of a disused factory, blindfolded and scared.  I sat and watched him, listened to him, first threatening me, and then finally pleading with me.  He’d guessed who it was that had kidnapped him.

When it was dark, I took the blindfold off and shone a very bright light in his eyes.  I asked him if the violence he had visited upon my sister was worth it.  He told me he was just a spectator.

I’d read the coroner’s report.  They all had a turn.  He was a liar.

He took nineteen bullets to die.

Then came Archie.

The same factory only this time there were four seats.  Anna Bannister, brothel owner, Spike Bannister, head of the family, Emily Bannister, sister, and who had nothing to do with their criminal activities.  She just had the misfortune of sharing their name.

Archie’s father told me how he was going to destroy me, and everyone I knew.

A well-placed bullet between the eyes shut him up.

Archie’s mother cursed me.  I let her suffer for an hour before I put her out of her misery.

Archie remained stony-faced until I came to Emily.  The death of his parents meant he would become head of the family.  I guess their deaths meant as little to him as they did me.

He was a little more worried about his sister.

I told him it was confession time.

He told her it was little more than a forced confession and he had done nothing to deserve my retribution.

I shrugged and shot her, and we both watched her fall to the ground screaming in agony.  I told him if he wanted her to live, he had to genuinely confess to his crimes.  This time he did, it all poured out of him.

I went over to Emily.  He watched in horror as I untied her bindings and pulled her up off the floor, suffering only from a small wound in her arm.  Without saying a word she took the gun and walked over to stand behind him.

“Louise was my friend, Archie.  My friend.”

Then she shot him.  Six times.

To me, after saying what looked like a prayer, she said, “Killing them all will not bring her back, Alan, and I doubt she would approve of any of this.  May God have mercy on your soul.”

Now I was in jail.  I’d spent three hours detailing the deaths of the five boys, everything I’d done; a full confession.  Without my sister, my life was nothing.  I didn’t want to go back to the foster parents; I doubt they’d take back a murderer.

They were not allowed to.

For a month I lived in a small cell, in solitary, no visitors.  I believed I was in the queue to be executed, and I had mentally prepared myself for the end.

Then I was told I had a visitor, and I was expecting a priest.

Instead, it was a man called McTavish. Short, wiry, and with an accent that I could barely understand.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Alan.”

When I saw it was not the priest I told the jailers not to let him in, I didn’t want to speak to anyone.  They ignored me.  I’d expected he was a psychiatrist, come to see whether I should be shipped off to the asylum.

I was beginning to think I was going mad.

I ignored him.

“I am the difference between you living or dying Alan, it’s as simple as that.  You’d be a wise man to listen to what I have to offer.”

Death sounded good.  I told him to go away.

He didn’t.  Persistent bugger.

I was handcuffed to the table.  The prison officers thought I was dangerous.  Five, plus two, murders, I guess they had a right to think that.  McTavish sat opposite me, ignoring my request to leave.

“Why’d you do it?”

“You know why.”  Maybe if I spoke he’d go away.

“Your sister.  By all accounts, the scum that did for her deserved what they got.”

“It was murder just the same.  No difference between scum and proper people.”

“You like killing?”

“No-one does.”

“No, I dare say you’re right.  But you’re different, Alan.  As clean and merciless killing I’ve ever seen.  We can use a man like you.”

“We?”

“A group of individuals who clean up the scum.”

I looked up to see his expression, one of benevolence, totally out of character for a man like him.  It looked like I didn’t have a choice.

Trained, cleared, and ready to go.

I hadn’t realized there were so many people who were, for all intents and purposes, invisible.  People that came and went, in malls, in hotels, trains, buses, airports, everywhere, people no one gave a second glance.

People like me.

In a mall, I became a shopper.

In a hotel, I was just another guest heading to his room.

On a bus or a train, I was just another commuter.

At the airport, I became a pilot.  I didn’t need to know how to fly; everyone just accepted a pilot in a pilot suit was just what he looked like.

I had a passkey.

I had the correct documents to get me onto the plane.

That walk down the air bridge was the longest of my life.  Waiting for the call from the gate, waiting for one of the air bridge staff to challenge me, stepping onto the plane.

Two pilots and a steward.  A team.  On the plane early before the rest of the crew.  A group that was committing a crime, had committed a number of crimes and thought they’d got away with it.

Until the judge, the jury and their executioner arrived.

Me.

Quick, clean, merciless.  Done.

I was now an operational field agent.

I was older now, and I could see in the mirror I was starting to go grey at the sides.  It was far too early in my life for this, but I expect it had something to do with my employment.

I didn’t recognize the man who looked back at me.

It was certainly not Alan McKenzie, nor was there any part of that fifteen-year-old who had made the decision to exact revenge.

Given a choice; I would not have gone down this path.

Or so I kept telling myself each time a little more of my soul was sold to the devil.

I was Barry Gamble.

I was Lenny Buckman.

I was Jimmy Hosen.

I was anyone but the person I wanted to be.

That’s what I told Louise, standing in front of her grave, and trying to apologize for all the harm, all the people I’d killed for that one rash decision.  If she was still alive she would be horrified, and ashamed.

Head bowed, tears streamed down my face.

God had gone on holiday and wasn’t there to hand out any forgiveness.  Not that day.  Not any day.

New York, New Years Eve.

I was at the end of a long tour, dragged out of a holiday and back into the fray, chasing down another scumbag.  They were scumbags, and I’d become an automaton hunting them down and dispatching them to what McTavish called a better place.

This time I failed.

A few drinks to blot out the failure, a blonde woman who pushed my buttons, a room in a hotel, any hotel, it was like being on the merry-go-round, round and round and round…

Her name was Silvia or Sandra, or someone I’d met before, but couldn’t quite place her.  It could be an enemy agent for all I knew or all I cared right then.

I was done.

I’d had enough.

I gave her the gun.

I begged her to kill me.

She didn’t.

Instead, I simply cried, letting the pent up emotion loose after being suppressed for so long, and she stayed with me, holding me close, and saying I was safe, that she knew exactly how I felt.

How could she?  No one could know what I’d been through.

I remembered her name after she had gone.

Amanda.

I remembered she had an imperfection in her right eye.

Someone else had the same imperfection.

I couldn’t remember who that was.

Not then.

I had a dingy flat in Kensington, a place that I rarely stayed in if I could help it.  After five-star hotel rooms, it made me feel shabby.

The end of another mission, I was on my way home, the underground, a bus, and then a walk.

It was late.

People were spilling out of the pub after the last drinks.  Most in good spirits, others slightly more boisterous.

A loud-mouthed chap bumped into me, the sort who had one too many, and was ready to take on all comers.

He turned on me, “Watch where you’re going, you fool.”

Two of his friends dragged him away.  He shrugged them off, squared up.

I punched him hard, in the stomach, and he fell backwards onto the ground.  I looked at his two friends.  “Take him home before someone makes mincemeat out of him.”

They grabbed his arms, lifted him off the ground and took him away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a woman, early thirties, quite attractive, but very, very drunk.  She staggered from the bar, bumped into me, and finished up sitting on the side of the road.

I looked around to see where her friends were.  The exodus from the pub was over and the few nearby were leaving to go home.

She was alone, drunk, and by the look of her, unable to move.

I sat beside her.  “Where are your friends?”

“Dunno.”

“You need help?”

She looked up, and sideways at me.  She didn’t look the sort who would get in this state.  Or maybe she was, I was a terrible judge of women.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Nobody.”  I was exactly how I felt.

“Well Mr Nobody, I’m drunk, and I don’t care.  Just leave me here to rot.”

She put her head back between her knees, and it looked to me she was trying to stop the spinning sensation in her head.

Been there before, and it’s not a good feeling.

“Where are your friends?” I asked again.

“Got none.”

“Perhaps I should take you home.”

“I have no home.”

“You don’t look like a homeless person.  If I’m not mistaken, those shoes are worth more than my weekly salary.”  I’d seen them advertised, in the airline magazine, don’t ask me why the ad caught my attention.

She lifted her head and looked at me again.  “You a smart fucking arse are you?”

“I have my moments.”

“Have them somewhere else.”

She rested her head against my shoulder.  We were the only two left in the street, and suddenly in darkness when the proprietor turned off the outside lights.

“Take me home,” she said suddenly.

“Where is your place?”

“Don’t have one.  Take me to your place.”

“You won’t like it.”

“I’m drunk.  What’s not to like until tomorrow.”

I helped her to her feet.  “You have a name?”

“Charlotte.”

The wedding was in a small church.  We had been away for a weekend in the country, somewhere in the Cotswolds, and found this idyllic spot.  Graves going back to the dawn of time, a beautiful garden tended by the vicar and his wife, an astonishing vista over hills and down dales.

On a spring afternoon with the sun, the flowers, and the peacefulness of the country.

I had two people at the wedding, the best man, Bradley, and my boss, Watkins.

Charlotte had her sisters Melissa and Isobel, and Isobel’s husband Giovanni, and their daughter Felicity.

And one more person who was as mysterious as she was attractive, a rather interesting combination as she was well over retirement age.  She arrived late and left early.

Aunt Agatha.

She looked me up and down with what I’d call a withering look.  “There’s more to you than meets the eye,” she said enigmatically.

“Likewise I’m sure,” I said.  It earned me an elbow in the ribs from Charlotte.  It was clear she feared this woman.

“Why did you come,” Charlotte asked.

“You know why.”

Agatha looked at me.  “I like you.  Take care of my granddaughter.  You do not want me for an enemy.”

OK, now she officially scared me.

She thrust a cheque into my hand, smiled, and left.

“Who is she,” I asked after we watched her depart.

“Certainly not my fairy godmother.”

Charlotte never mentioned her again.

Zurich in summer, not exactly my favourite place.

Instead of going to visit her sister Isobel, we stayed at a hotel in Beethovenstrasse and Isobel and Felicity came to us.  Her husband was not with her this time.

Felicity was three or four and looked very much like her mother.  She also looked very much like Charlotte, and I’d remarked on it once before and it received a sharp rebuke.

We’d been twice before, and rather than talk to her sister, Charlotte spent her time with Felicity, and they were, together, like old friends.  For so few visits they had a remarkable rapport.

I had not broached the subject of children with Charlotte, not after one such discussion where she had said she had no desire to be a mother.  It had not been a subject before and wasn’t once since.

Perhaps like all Aunts, she liked the idea of playing with a child for a while and then give it back.

Felicity was curious as to who I was, but never ventured too close.  I believed a child could sense the evil in adults and had seen through my facade of friendliness.  We were never close.

But…

This time, when observing the two together, something quite out of left field popped into my head.  It was not possible, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I thought she looked like my mother.

And Charlotte had seen me looking in their direction.  “You seem distracted,” she said.

“I was just remembering my mother.  Odd moment, haven’t done so for a very long time.”

“Why now?”  I think she had a look of concern on her face.

“Her birthday, I guess,” I said, the first excuse I could think of.

Another look and I was wrong.  She looked like Isobel or Charlotte, or if I wanted to believe it possible, Melissa too.

I was crying, tears streaming down my face.

I was in pain, searing pain from my lower back stretching down into my legs, and I was barely able to breathe.

It was like coming up for air.

It was like Snow White bringing Prince Charming back to life.  I could feel what I thought was a gentle kiss and tears dropping on my cheeks, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Charlotte slowly lifting her head, a hand gently stroking the hair off my forehead.

And in a very soft voice, she said, “Hi.”

I could not speak, but I think I smiled.  It was the girl with the imperfection in her right eye.  Everything fell into place, and I knew, in that instant that we were irrevocably meant to be together.

“Welcome back.”

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

onelastlookcoverfinal2

In a word: Brevity

Now, brevity is something that I have not been able to fully wrap my head around.

The dictionary explains Brevity as

‘concise and exact use of words in writing and speech’

So…

I remember working with a writer a long time ago who explained certain authors styles, and for James A Michener of Hawaii fame, he said Michener wrote sentences instead of words, paragraphs instead of sentences, pages instead of paragraphs and chapters instead of pages.

It was a little harsh considering I’d just read the book and had liked it, despite its length and the time it took.

But some time later I realized he was not criticizing Michener, but trying to tell me, in his, what I came to discover, interesting way, that I should strive to write more compactly.

I then came across a book by Brian Callison which was exactly that, the concise version, a story that fitted into about 200 pages.

That too was a good book and it took me a day to read it, and by his use of that economy of words, it read quickly.

Of course, I have tried over the years to emulate both styles, and to a certain degree, failing, because I think I have created my own style which is somewhere in between.

Still, when editing, it is always in the back of my mind that I should be

Using words instead of sentences

Using sentences instead of paragraphs

Using paragraphs instead of pages, and

Using pages instead of chapters.

The chapters, he said, with an air of amusement, will always take care of themselves.

 

“What Sets Us Apart”, a mystery with a twist

David is a man troubled by a past he is trying to forget.

Susan is rebelling against a life of privilege and an exasperated mother who holds a secret that will determine her daughter’s destiny.

They are two people brought together by chance. Or was it?

When Susan discovers her mother’s secret, she goes in search of the truth that has been hidden from her since the day she was born.

When David realizes her absence is more than the usual cooling off after another heated argument, he finds himself being slowly drawn back into his former world of deceit and lies.

Then, back with his former employers, David quickly discovers nothing is what it seems as he embarks on a dangerous mission to find Susan before he loses her forever.

Find the kindle version on Amazon here:  http://amzn.to/2Eryfth

whatsetscover

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to write a war story – Episode 7

This is a story inspired by a visit to an old castle in Italy. It was, of course, written while travelling on a plane, though I’m not sure if it was from Calgary to Toronto, or New York to Vancouver.

But, there’s more to come. Those were long flights…

And sadly when I read what I’d written, off the plane and in the cold hard light of dawn, there were problems, which now in the second draft, should provide the proper start.

 

If it had been Jackerby in charge and not Johansson, I had no doubt I’d be at the end of a firing squad now.

Jackerby was not Army, nor a man of honour.  His gait, his manner gave him away, despite the fact he was out of his usual uniform.  I suspect now I had been taken care of, that would change, and we’d get to see his true colours.

After leaving the hall, I was escorted downstairs to the cellar, and where I knew there were a number of rooms with iron gated fronts, places I suspected, in olden days, enemies of the castle were held, enslaved or executed in these cells.

There were several male prisoners is the first two cells, awaiting their fate, one which would not include escaping to the other side, but perhaps something a lot worse than death.

At the end, there was another corridor, and several smaller cells, where second from the end, I was roughly shoved by one of the guards.  He was going to add the butt of his rifle to the back of my head for good measure, but Jackerby stopped him.

I was sure it wasn’t out of respect for Johansson.  It appeared that Johansson needed me for something else.

After the door closed I yelled out, “All the rooms upstairs filled?”

“Yes.  It’s high season.”  So Jackerby had a semblance of a sense of humour.

 

The room, if it could be called that, had a camp stretcher, a seat, and a bucket.  The light came from a burning torch out in the corridor, an interesting touch that electricity had not made it down this far.

The floor was cobbled, and, like the walls, damp.  There was an overbearing odour of mustiness in the room.

It was also cold, so these cells must be located not only under the old castle but underground.  That meant centuries of history, and probably a ghost or two.  I was sure terrible things had happened, down in these cells, not just back then but also recently.

Outside the wall, I could hear the sound of running water, so the back wall must border onto the stream.  And there must be a gap, or hole somewhere for the sound to reach me, but it was too dark to see.

When night fell, it was going to be a lot worse; the light wouldn’t be affected, but it was going to get a lot colder.  As it was the torchlight from the passage barely made an impact, and it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust.  And I was sure there were rats, just waiting for the dark to come out to play.

I moved the seat to beside the door and sat down, trying to make myself comfortable, in a position where I might hear them coming if they came back.

Then a voice quite near, said, “What are you here for?”

 

© Charles Heath 2019