Harry Walthenson, Private Detective – the second case – A case of finding the “Flying Dutchman”

What starts as a search for a missing husband soon develops into an unbelievable story of treachery, lies, and incredible riches.

It was meant to remain buried long enough for the dust to settle on what was once an unpalatable truth, when enough time had passed, and those who had been willing to wait could reap the rewards.

The problem was, no one knew where that treasure was hidden or the location of the logbook that held the secret.

At stake, billions of dollars’ worth of stolen Nazi loot brought to the United States in an anonymous tramp steamer and hidden in a specially constructed vault under a specifically owned plot of land on the once docklands of New York.

It may have remained hidden and unknown to only a few, if it had not been for a mere obscure detail being overheard …

… by our intrepid, newly minted private detective, Harry Walthenson …

… and it would have remained buried.

Now, through a series of unrelated events, or are they, that well-kept secret is out there, and Harry will not stop until the whole truth is uncovered.

Even if it almost costs him his life.  Again.

Writing a book in 365 days – 349

Day 349

The Gift of Creating Life with Words: Innate Talent, Learned Skill, or a Bit of Both?

“Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, the most powerful tool we have ever created.” – J.K. Rowling

When a story sweeps us off our feet, a poem makes our hearts ache, or a speech moves a crowd to tears, we instinctively label the author a “gifted” or “talented” writer. It feels as if they possess a mysterious, almost magical ability to conjure whole worlds from thin air.

But is the art of breathing life into language something you’re born with, or can anyone learn to wield it with equal flair? In this post we’ll explore the science and the folklore behind writing excellence, dissect the myths of the “born writer,” and lay out practical pathways for anyone who wants to transform words into living, breathing experiences.


1. The Allure of the “Natural Talent” Narrative

1.1. Why We Romanticise the Gifted Writer

  • Heroic storytelling – Just as societies celebrate prodigies in music, sport, and mathematics, literature loves its “genius” figures (Shakespeare, Hemingway, Toni Morrison).
  • Cognitive bias – The availability heuristic makes us recall the few celebrated authors, overlooking the countless writers who arrived at greatness through deliberate practice.
  • Cultural mythos – The Romantic era glorified the solitary muse, cementing the idea that true art springs from a mystical well within.

1.2. What Research Really Says

Neuroscientists have mapped the brain activity of skilled writers, and the findings are enlightening:

Brain RegionRole in WritingWhat the Data Shows
Broca’s areaSyntax, grammarHighly active in both novice and expert writers, suggesting that basic language processing is universal.
Prefrontal cortexPlanning, organizationShows increased connectivity in seasoned writers, indicating that strategic thinking can be honed.
Default mode network (DMN)Imagination, mind‑wanderingStronger activation correlates with creative ideation, but DMN activity can be cultivated through practices like free‑writing.

The takeaway? There are no “magic” brain circuits that only a few possess. The same neural hardware is available to everyone; the difference lies in how it’s trained, wired, and used over time.


2. The Science of Skill Acquisition

2.1. Deliberate Practice—The Engine of Mastery

Psychologist K. Anders Ericsson introduced the concept of deliberate practice: intentional, feedback‑rich, and just beyond your current ability. In writing, this translates to:

  • Targeted exercises (e.g., “write a scene using only dialogue” or “describe a setting in 100 words”).
  • Immediate feedback from peers, mentors, or software tools.
  • Iterative revision—the willingness to rewrite, re‑structure, and re‑think.

2.2. The 10,000‑Hour Rule—A Misinterpretation

Gladwell popularised the idea that 10,000 hours leads to mastery. While practice matters, the quality of those hours matters far more. A novice who writes 10,000 bland sentences won’t rival a diligent writer who spends 2,000 hours on focused storytelling drills.

2.3. Neuroplasticity—Your Brain Can Rewire

Every time you craft a sentence, you’re forging new synaptic pathways. Studies in adult neuroplasticity demonstrate that consistent writing practice enlarges language‑related brain regions and improves narrative comprehension. In short: You can literally rewire yourself to be a better writer.


3. The Role of Reading: The Unsung Curriculum

“If you want to write, write, and if you want to read, read.” – C. S. Lewis

Reading is the foundational apprenticeship for any writer. Here’s why:

AspectHow Reading HelpsPractical Tip
VocabularyExposure to varied diction builds lexical richness.Keep a “word‑bank” notebook; add a new, striking word each week.
StructureMimic a paragraph in the style of your favourite author, then rewrite it in your voice.After each book, outline its structure in 5–7 bullet points.
VoiceUnderstanding expectations lets you subvert or honour them intelligently.Analysing plot arcs, pacing, and chapter organisation reveals the scaffolding behind stories.
Genre ConventionsUnderstanding expectations lets you subvert or honor them intelligently.Read at least three classic works in any genre you plan to write.

In other words—reading is the silent teacher that precedes formal instruction.


4. Teaching the Craft: What Formal Education (and Informal Mentorship) Offers

4.1. What Writing Courses Actually Teach

  1. Fundamentals of Storytelling – Hero’s journey, three‑act structure, conflict types.
  2. Tools of the Trade – Dialogue tags, sensory description, active vs. passive voice.
  3. Revision Strategies – Macro‑editing (plot, pacing) vs. micro‑editing (sentence flow, grammar).
  4. Critique Techniques – Giving and receiving constructive feedback without ego.

4.2. Mentorship vs. Classroom

  • Mentorship—Personalised, often informal. One‑on‑one feedback accelerates growth because it’s tailored to your specific blind spots.
  • Workshops—Group environments foster diverse perspectives, exposing you to styles you’d never encounter alone.

4.3. Digital Resources: The New‑Age Writing Academy

  • Online courses (MasterClass, Coursera, edX) – Structured curricula from bestselling authors.
  • Writing communities (r/WritingPrompts, Scribophile, Critique Circle) – Peer review loops.
  • AI‑assisted tools (Grammarly, ProWritingAid, ChatGPT) – Real‑time suggestions for grammar, style, and even plot brainstorming.

5. Practical Steps to Turn “Potential” into “Prose”

Below is a 12‑week sprint that anyone can follow, regardless of background. Think of it as a bootcamp for the “gift of creating life with words.”

WeekFocusAction ItemTime Commitment
1ObservationKeep a daily 5‑minute “sensory log” of what you see, hear, smell.5 min/day
2Micro‑StorytellingWrite 100‑word flash fiction using only one sense.15 min/day
3Dialogue DrillTranscribe a real conversation, then rewrite it to reveal subtext.30 min total
4Structural MappingOutline the plot of your favorite novel in three acts.1 hour
5Voice ExplorationImitate a paragraph from three different authors; then rewrite it in your own voice.45 min
6Feedback LoopShare a 1,000‑word piece with a peer group; receive and integrate feedback.2 hours
7Revision MasteryTake a piece you wrote in Week 2 and perform a macro‑edit (plot, pacing).1 hour
8Genre Deep DiveRead a classic in a new genre; write a 500‑word piece that follows its conventions.2 hours reading + 1 hour writing
9Narrative TensionWrite a scene where the stakes are revealed only through action, not exposition.1 hour
10Mentor SessionArrange a 30‑minute call with a more experienced writer (could be via a forum).30 min
11Polish & PublishEdit a short story for submission to a literary journal or online platform.2 hours
12ReflectionWrite a 500‑word essay on how your writing has changed over the program.30 min

Consistency beats intensity. Even 15 minutes a day, if focused, yields measurable improvement.


6. Common Myths Debunked

MythReality
“You’re either born a writer or you’re not.”Writing is a skill that can be systematically improved, much like learning a musical instrument.
“Good writers don’t need to edit.”Even the most celebrated authors (e.g., Stephen King) claim they spend 90 % of their time editing.
“Inspiration is magical and uncontrollable.”While moments of inspiration happen, they are often the byproduct of sustained preparation.
“Only formal education matters.”Self‑directed learning, reading, and community critique often produce equally adept writers.

7. The Bottom Line: Talent Meets Training

The truth lies somewhere in the middle:

  • Innate predispositions—such as a keen sense of observation, empathy, or an early love for language—can give a head start.
  • Deliberate practice—the daily grind of writing, reading, revising, and seeking feedback—turns that potential into proficiency.
  • Guided instruction—whether through a university course, an online tutorial, or a mentorship—provides the scaffolding that accelerates growth.

So, the “gift of creating life with words” isn’t a static, hereditary trait; it’s a dynamic, learnable craft that flourishes when curiosity meets discipline.


8. Takeaway Action: Your First Step Right Now

  1. Grab a notebook (or open a note‑app).
  2. Set a timer for five minutes and write whatever you see out the window, without judging.
  3. Repeat tomorrow, adding one new sensory detail.

In just a week, you’ll have a mini-catalogue of lived experience to draw upon—one of the most valuable reservoirs any writer can own.

An excerpt from “Mistaken Identity” – a work in progress

The odds of any one of us having a doppelganger are quite high. Whether or not you got to meet him or her, or be confronted by them was significantly lower. Except of course, unless you are a celebrity.

It was a phenomenon remarkable only for the fact, at times, certain high-profile people, notorious or not, had doubles if only to put off enemies or the general public. Sometimes we see people in the street, people who look like someone we knew, and made the mistake of approaching them like a long lost friend, only to discover an embarrassed individual desperately trying to get away for what they perceive is a stalker or worse.

And then sometimes it is a picture that looms up on a TV screen, an almost exact likeness of you. At first, you are fascinated, and then according to the circumstances, and narrative that is attached to that picture, either flattered or horrified.

For me one turned to the other when I saw an almost likeness of me flash up on the screen when I turned the TV on in my room. What looked to be my photo, with only minor differences, was in the corner of the screen, the newsreader speaking in rapid Italian, so fast I could only translate every second or third word.

But the one word I did recognize was murder. The photo of the man up on the screen was the subject of an extensive manhunt. The crime, the murder of a woman in the very same hotel I was staying, and it was being played out live several floors above me. The gist of the story, the woman had been seen with, and staying with the man who was my double, and, less than an hour ago, the body had been discovered by a chambermaid.

The killer, the announcer said, was believed to be still in the hotel because the woman had died shortly before she had been discovered.

I watched, at first fascinated at what I was seeing. I guess I should have been horrified, but at that moment it didn’t register that I might be mistaken for that man.

Not until another five minutes had passed, and I was watching the police in full riot gear, with a camera crew following behind, coming up a passage towards a room. Live action of the arrest of the suspected killer the breathless commentator said.

Then, suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. On the TV screen, plain to see, was the number of my room.
I looked through the peephole and saw an army of police officers. It didn’t take much to realize what had happened. The hotel staff identified me as the man in the photograph on the TV and called the police.

Horrified wasn’t what I was feeling right then.

It was fear.

My last memory was the door crashing open, the wood splintering, and men rushing into the room, screaming at me, waving guns, and when I put my hands up to defend myself, I heard a gunshot.

And in one very confused and probably near-death experience, I thought I saw my mother and thought what was she doing in Rome?

I was the archetypal nobody.

I lived in a small flat, I drove a nondescript car, had an average job in a low profile travel agency, was single, and currently not involved in a relationship, no children, and according to my workmates, no life.

They were wrong. I was one of those people who preferred their own company, I had a cat, and travelled whenever I could. And I did have a ‘thing’ for Rosalie, one of the reasons why I stayed at the travel agency. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, but one could always hope.

I was both pleased and excited to be going to the conference. It was my first, and the glimpse I had seen of it had whetted my appetite for more information about the nuances of my profession.

Some would say that a travel agent wasn’t much of a job, but to me, it was every bit as demanding as being an accountant or a lawyer. You were providing a customer with a service, and arguably more people needed a travel agent than a lawyer. At least that was what I told myself, as I watched more and more people start using the internet, and our relevance slowly dissipating.

This conference was about countering that trend.

The trip over had been uneventful. I was met at the airport and taken to the hotel where the conference was being held with a number of other delegates who had arrived on the same plane. I had mingled with a number of other delegates at the pre conference get together, including one whose name was Maryanne.

She was an unusual young woman, not the sort that I usually met, because she was the one who was usually surrounded by all the boys, the life of the party. In normal circumstances, I would not have introduced myself to her, but she had approached me. Why did I think that may have been significant? All of this ran through my mind, culminating in the last event on the highlight reel, the door bursting open, men rushing into my room, and then one of the policemen opened fire.

I replayed that last scene again, trying to see the face of my assailant, but it was just a sea of men in battle dress, bullet proof vests and helmets, accompanied by screaming and yelling, some of which I identified as “Get on the floor”.

Then came the shot.

Why ask me to get on the floor if all they were going to do was shoot me. I was putting my hands up at the time, in surrender, not reaching for a weapon.

Then I saw the face again, hovering in the background like a ghost. My mother. Only the hair was different, and her clothes, and then the image was going, perhaps a figment of my imagination brought on by pain killing drugs. I tried to imagine the scene again, but this time it played out, without the image of my mother.

I opened my eyes took stock of my surroundings. What I felt in that exact moment couldn’t be described. I should most likely be dead, the result of a gunshot wound. I guess I should be thankful the shooter hadn’t aimed at anything vital, but that was the only item on the plus side.

I was in a hospital room with a policeman by the door. He was reading a newspaper, and sitting uncomfortably on a small chair. He gave me a quick glance when he heard me move slightly, but didn’t acknowledge me with either a nod, or a greeting, just went back to the paper.

If I still had a police guard, then I was still considered a suspect. What was interesting was that I was not handcuffed to the bed. Perhaps that only happened in TV shows. Or maybe they knew I couldn’t run because my injuries were too serious. Or the guard would shoot me long before my feet hit the floor. I knew the police well enough now to know they would shoot first and ask questions later.

On the physical side, I had a large bandage over the top left corner of my chest, extending over my shoulder. A little poking and prodding determined the bullet had hit somewhere between the top of my rib cage and my shoulder. Nothing vital there, but my arm might be somewhat useless for a while, depending on what the bullet hit on the way in, or through.

It didn’t feel like there were any broken or damaged bones.

That was the good news.

On the other side of the ledger, my mental state, there was only one word that could describe it. Terrified. I was looking at a murder charge and jail time, a lot of it. Murder usually had a long time in jail attached to it.

Whatever had happened, I didn’t do it. I know I didn’t do it, but I had to try and explain this to people who had already made up their minds. I searched my mind for evidence. It was there, but in the confused state brought on by the medication, all I could think about was jail, and the sort of company I was going to have.

I think death would have been preferable.

Half an hour later, maybe longer, I was drifting in an out of consciousness, a nurse, or what I thought was a nurse, came into the room. The guard stood, checked her ID card, and then stood by the door.

She came over and stood beside the bed. “How are you?” she asked, first in Italian, and when I pretended I didn’t understand, she asked the same question in accented English.

“Alive, I guess,” I said. “No one has come and told what my condition is yet. You are my first visitor. Can you tell me?”

“Of course. You are very lucky to be alive. You will be fine and make a full recovery. The doctors here are excellent at their work.”

“What happens now?”

“I check you, and then you have a another visitor. He is from the British Embassy I think. But he will have to wait until I have finished my examination.”

I realized then she was a doctor, not a nurse.

My second visitor was a man, dressed in a suit the sort of which I associated with the British Civil Service.  He was not very old which told me he was probably a recent graduate on his first posting, the junior officer who drew the short straw.

The guard checked his ID but again did not leave the room, sitting back down and going back to his newspaper.

My visitor introduced himself as Alex Jordan from the British Embassy in Rome and that he had been asked by the Ambassador to sort out what he labelled a tricky mess.

For starters, it was good to see that someone cared about what happened to me.  But, equally, I knew the mantra, get into trouble overseas, and there is not much we can do to help you.  So, after that lengthy introduction, I had to wonder why he was here.

I said, “They think I am an international criminal by the name of Jacob Westerbury, whose picture looks just like me, and apparently for them it is an open and shut case.”  I could still hear the fragments of the yelling as the police burst through the door, at the same time telling me to get on the floor with my hands over my head.

“It’s not.  They know they’ve got the wrong man, which is why I’m here.  There is the issue of what had been described as excessive force, and the fact you were shot had made it an all-round embarrassment for them.”

“Then why are you here?  Shouldn’t they be here apologizing?”

“That is why you have another visitor.  I only took precedence because I insisted I speak with you first.  I have come, basically to ask you for a favour.  This situation has afforded us with an opportunity.  We would like you to sign the official document which basically indemnifies them against any legal proceedings.”

Curious.  What sort of opportunity was he talking about?  Was this a matter than could get difficult and I could be charged by the Italian Government, even if I wasn’t guilty, or was it one of those hush hush type deals, you do this for us, we’ll help you out with that.  “What sort of opportunity?”

“We want to get our hands on Jacob Westerbury as much as they do.  They’ve made a mistake, and we’d like to use that to get custody of him if or when he is arrested in this country.  I’m sure you would also like this man brought into custody as soon as possible so you will stop being confused with him.  I can only imagine what it was like to be arrested in the manner you were.  And I would not blame you if you wanted to get some compensation for what they’ve done.  But.  There are bigger issues in play here, and you would be doing this for your country.”

I wondered what would happen if I didn’t agree to his proposal.  I had to ask, “What if I don’t?”

His expression didn’t change.  “I’m sure you are a sensible man Mr Pargeter, who is more than willing to help his country whenever he can.  They have agreed to take care of all your hospital expenses, and refund the cost of the Conference, and travel.  I’m sure I could also get them to pay for a few days at Capri, or Sorrento if you like, before you go home.  What do you say?”

There was only one thing I could say.  Wasn’t it treason if you went against your country’s wishes?

“I’m not an unreasonable man, Alex.  Go do your deal, and I’ll sign the papers.”

“Good man.”

After Alex left, the doctor came back to announce the arrival of a woman, by the way she had announced herself, the publicity officer from the Italian police. When she came into the room, she was not dressed in a uniform.

The doctor left after giving a brief report to the civilian at the door. I understood the gist of it, “The patient has recovered excellently and the wounds are healing as expected. There is no cause for concern.”

That was a relief.

While the doctor was speaking to the civilian, I speculated on who she might be. She was young, not more than thirty, conservatively dressed so an official of some kind, but not necessarily with the police. Did they have prosecutors? I was unfamiliar with the Italian legal system.

She had long wavy black hair and the sort of sultry looks of an Italian movie star, and her presence made me more curious than fearful though I couldn’t say why.

The woman then spoke to the guard, and he reluctantly got up and left the room, closing the door behind him.
She checked the door, and then came back towards me, standing at the end of the bed. Now alone, she said, “A few questions before we begin.” Her English was only slightly accented. “Your name is Jack Pargeter?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“You are in Rome to attend the Travel Agents Conference at the Hilton Hotel?”

“Yes.”

“You attended a preconference introduction on the evening of the 25th, after arriving from London at approximately 4:25 pm.”

“About that time, yes. I know it was about five when the bus came to collect me, and several others, to take us to the hotel.”

She smiled. It was then I noticed she was reading from a small notepad.

“It was ten past five to be precise. The driver had been held up in traffic. We have a number of witnesses who saw you on the plane, on the bus, at the hotel, and with the aid of closed circuit TV we have established you are not the criminal Jacob Westerbury.”

She put her note book back in her bag and then said, “My name is Vicenza Andretti and I am with the prosecutor’s office. I am here to formally apologize for the situation that can only be described as a case of mistaken identity. I assure you it is not the habit of our police officers to shoot people unless they have a very strong reason for doing so. I understand that in the confusion of the arrest one of our officers accidentally discharged his weapon. We are undergoing a very thorough investigation into the circumstances of this event.”

I was not sure why, but between the time I had spoken to the embassy official and now, something about letting them off so easily was bugging me. I could see why they had sent her. It would be difficult to be angry or annoyed with her.

But I was annoyed.

“Do you often send a whole squad of trigger happy riot police to arrest a single man?” It came out harsher than I intended.

“My men believed they were dealing with a dangerous criminal.”

“Do I look like a dangerous criminal?” And then I realized if it was mistaken identity, the answer would be yes.

She saw the look on my face, and said quietly, “I think you know the answer to that question, Mr. Pargeter.”

“Well, it was overkill.”

“As I said, we are very sorry for the circumstances you now find yourself in. You must understand that we honestly believed we were dealing with an armed and dangerous murderer, and we were acting within our mandate. My department will cover your medical expenses, and any other amounts for the inconvenience this has caused you. I believe you were attending a conference at your hotel. I am very sorry but given the medical circumstances you have, you will have to remain here for a few more days.”

“I guess, then, I should thank you for not killing me.”

Her expression told me that was not the best thing I could have said in the circumstances.

“I mean, I should thank you for the hospital and the care. But a question or two of my own. May I?”

She nodded.

“Did you catch this Jacob Westerbury character?”

“No. In the confusion created by your arrest he escaped. Once we realized we had made a mistake and reviewed the close circuit TV, we tracked him leaving by a rear exit.”

“Are you sure it was one of your men who shot me?”

I watched as her expression changed, to one of surprise.

“You don’t think it was one of my men?”

“Oddly enough no. But don’t ask me why.”

“It is very interesting that you should say that, because in our initial investigation, it appeared none of our officer’s weapons had been discharged. A forensic investigation into the bullet tells us it was one that is used in our weapons, but…”

I could see their dilemma.

“Have you any enemies that would want to shoot you Mr Pargeter?”

That was absurd because I had no enemies, at least none that I knew of, much less anyone who would want me dead.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then it is strange, and will perhaps remain a mystery. I will let you know if anything more is revealed in our investigation.”

She took an envelope out of her briefcase and opened it, pulling out several sheets of paper.

I knew what it was. A verbal apology was one thing, but a signed waiver would cover them legally. They had sent a pretty girl to charm me. Perhaps using anyone else it would not have worked. There was potential for a huge litigation payout here, and someone more ruthless would jump at the chance of making a few million out of the Italian Government.

“We need a signature on this document,” she said.

“Absolving you of any wrong doing?”

“I have apologized. We will take whatever measures are required for your comfort after this event. We are accepting responsibility for our actions, and are being reasonable.”

They were. I took the pen from her and signed the documents.

“You couldn’t add dinner with you on that list of benefits?” No harm in asking.

“I am unfortunately unavailable.”

I smiled. “It wasn’t a request for a date, just dinner. You can tell me about Rome, as only a resident can. Please.”

She looked me up and down, searching for the ulterior motive. When she couldn’t find one, she said, “We shall see once the hospital discharges you in a few days.”

“Then I’ll pencil you in?”

She looked at me quizzically. “What is this pencil me in?”

“It’s an English colloquialism. It means maybe. As when you write something in pencil, it is easy to erase it.”

A momentary frown, then recognition and a smile. “I shall remember that. Thank-you for your time and co-operation Mr. Pargeter. Good morning.”

© Charles Heath 2015-2021

In a word: Vision

I had one myself once, whether it was a peek into my future, or whether it was just playing out a scene for one of my stories, it was rather intense.

That variation of the word vision is one that uses one’s imagination. I do it quite a lot, and I call it the cinema of my dreams.

But…

Vision, in the simplest sense of the word, is sight, what you see.

People can try to make it better, like movie studios, who have called it rather interesting titles such as VistaVision or Panavision, either of which sounds quite remarkable, and it may have been back in the day, but it’s probably quite ordinary these days.

A vision, in another sense, might be something like a dream as mentioned before, which might happen when we are asleep, but if awake, it might be because we are very bored with our job and we’re imagining what it would be like at Santorini or the Bahamas, or anywhere but where you are now.

It might also describe our particular slant on what else we would like to happen, whether at work or somewhere else, but it’s usually confined to our closest circle of friends. Bosses never invite nor want to hear plebs ideas of improving their lot.

Hence, I have a vision…

But no one will listen. Perhaps if I was Martin Luther King, things might be different.

Then, at the end of it all…

There are visions and then there are visions, like seeing something that no one else can see, whether driven by hallucinogenic drugs or magic mushrooms, or you just happened to be there to see what no one else could.

Dragons, lizard people, or the Virgin Mary.

And no, I have not seen any of the above.

Yet.

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to write a war story – Episode 5

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.

I knelt down to Jack’s level and whispered in his ear, “Time to go, mate. Things are about to get a little sticky here, and one of us should get away.”

I’m not sure he understood what I was saying.

I pointed towards the trees that ran along the wall. “Go, now.”  He walked slowly in the pointed direction, then turned to look at me.

“Go.”

Another hesitation, he headed towards, and then disappeared, into the trees.

Behind me, I could hear the sound of boots on the rock floor of the tunnel. The men had broken through and cut off my escape. I didn’t believe for a minute that Jackerby was there to help me.

Well, out of the frying pan, I thought.

I walked through the gap between the trees, getting a scrape on the side of my face from a prickly branch, and then burst into the open. Jackerby had taken about twenty steps down from where he had called to me, and hearing the trees, turned and took a few steps back towards me.

Seconds later the two men from the tunnel came through the same gap and took up positions so I couldn’t escape. Guns were not drawn but ready in case they were needed.

“Where’s the dog?” Jackerby asked.

“Rats desert a sinking ship, why should dogs be any different. Guess he knew I was for the high jump.”

“Didn’t have to be that way.”

I don’t remember getting an offer to betray my country and decline. Significantly, he had made no more mention of his offer to help. But, I had to ask, “Which side are you on?”

“The right side, of course.”

It was hard to tell what version of the truth that was. He had one of those faces I associated with a professional poker player.

A nod of his head, and we headed back towards the castle. Jackerby walked beside me, the two guards about three yards behind. Running wasn’t an option, I’d get two bullets in the back before I got ten yards. There was little cover to hide in, so that was out as well.

I wondered what fate awaited me back at the castle.

© Charles Heath 2019

“Call me!” – a short story

You know what it’s like on Monday morning, especially if it’s very cold and the double glazing is failing miserably to keep the cold out.

It was warm under three blankets, thick sheets and a doona, and I didn’t want to get up.

It doesn’t help if, in the last few months, the dream job you once had turned into a drudge, and there were any number of reasons to stay home rather than go into the office. Once, that was trying to find an excuse to stay home because you’d rather go to work.

That was a long time ago, or felt like it.

My cell phone vibrated; an incoming message, or more likely a reminder. I reached out into the icy wasteland that was the distance from under the covers to my phone on the bedside table. It was very cold out there, and for a moment, I regretted that impulse to check.

It was a reminder; I had a meeting at HR with the manager. I had thought I might be eligible for redundancy since the company was in the throes of a cost-cutting exercise. Once I might have been apprehensive, but now, given my recent change in department and responsibility, I was kind of hoping it was a possibility.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Time to get up, sleepy head. You have a meeting to go to, not one to be late.”

It felt strange to wake up with someone else in the bed. My luck in that department hadn’t been all that good lately, but something changed, and at the usual Friday night after-work drinks at the pub, I ran into one of the PAs I’d seen around, one who was curious to meet me as much as I was to meet her.

One thing had led to another, and when I asked her if she wanted to drop in on the way home for a coffee, she did.

“I’d prefer not to. I can think of better things to do.”

“So could I, but that’s not the point. Five more minutes, then I’m pushing you out.”

She snuggled into my back, and I could feel the warmth of her body, and it had the exact opposite effect than she intended. But she was right. It was important, and I had to go. But, in the meantime, it was four more minutes and counting.

When you get a call from the head of HR, it usually means one of two things: a promotion, or those two dreaded words, ‘you’re fired’, though not usually said with the same dramatic effect.

This year had already been calamitous enough, getting sidelined from Mergers and Acquisitions because I’d been usurped. That was the word I was going with, but it was, to a certain extent, my fault. I took my eye off the ball and allowed someone else to make their case.

Of course, it helped that the person was connected to all the right people in the company, and, with the change in Chairman, it was also a matter of removing some of the people who were appointed by the previous incumbent.

Four of my equivalent managers had also been usurped and moved to places where they would have less impact. I had finished up in sales and marketing, and to be quite honest, it was such a step-down that I had already decided to leave when the opportunity presented itself.

My assistant manager, who had already put in his resignation, was working out his final two weeks. I told him to take leave until the contract expired, but he was more dedicated than that. He had got in before me and was sitting at his desk, a cup of coffee in his hand and another on the desk.

“How many days?”

“Six and counting. What about you? You should be out canvassing. There are at least three other places I know would be waiting to hear from you.”

“It’s still in the consideration phase.”

“You’re likely to get the chop anyway, with this thing you have with Sharky.”

Sharky was the HR manager.

“You know something I don’t?” I picked up the coffee, removed the lid, and took in the aroma.

“They’re downsizing. Broadham had decided to go on a cost-cutting exercise, and instead of the suggested efficiencies we put up last year, they’re going with people. I don’t think he quite gets it.”

“You mean my replacement doesn’t know anything about efficiency. He makes a good yes man, though, telling Broadham exactly what he wants to hear.”

Broadham, the new Chairman, never did understand that people appointed to important positions needed to have the relevant qualifications and experience. My replacement had neither. That was when the employees loyal to the previous Chairman had started leaving.

We had called it death, whilst Broadham had called it natural attrition. He didn’t quite understand that so far, over 300 years of experience had left, and as much again was in the process of leaving.

“Are you going to tell Sharky you’re leaving?”

“I’ll wait and see what he has to say. I think he knows the ship is sinking.”

There wasn’t much I didn’t know about the current state of the company, and with the departures, I knew it was only a matter of time. Sharky was a good man, but he couldn’t stem the tide.

My departing 2IC also knew the vagaries of profits and share prices, and we had been watching the share price and the market itself. It was teetering, and in the last few months, parcels of shares were being unloaded, not a lot at one time, but a steady trickle.

That told me that Broadham and his cronies were cashing in while the going was good, and quite possibly were about to steer the ship onto the rocks. The question was who was buying, and, after some hard research, I found that it was certain board members. Why, I suspected, was to increase their holdings and leverage, but I don’t think they quite realised that there would be nothing left but worthless stock certificates.

It was evidence, when I finally left, that I would pass on to the relevant authorities.

In the meantime, I had a meeting to go to.

“Best of luck,” my assistant muttered as I passed his desk.

“If I don’t return, I will have been escorted from the building. If that happens, call me.”

It had happened before. When people were sacked, they were escorted to their office, allowed to pack their belongings, and then escorted to the front door. It would be an ignominious end to an illustrious career, or so I’d been told by the girl who was no doubt still asleep in my bed.

She had heard the whispers.

The walk to the lift, the traversing of the four floors to the executive level, and then to the outer office where Sharky’s PA sat took all of three minutes. I had hoped it would be longer.

“He’s waiting for you,” she said, “go on in.”

I knocked on the door, then went in, closing it behind me. “Now, sir, what on earth could you want to see me about?”

© Charles Heath 2021-2025

The 2am Rant: Having something to say is one thing, saying it is something else

As accomplished as we can be at putting words on paper, what is it that makes it so difficult to sit in a chair with a camera on you, and say words rather than write them?

Er and um seem to crop up a lot in verbal speech.

OK, it was a simple question; “What motivates you to write?”

Damn.

My brain just turned to mush, and the words come out sounding like a drunken sailor after a night out on the town.

The written answer to the question is simple; “The idea that someone will read what I have written, and quite possibly enjoy it; that is motivation enough.”

It highlights the difficulties of the novice author.

Not only are there the constant demands of creating a ‘brand’ and building a ‘following’, there is also the need to market oneself, and the interview is one of the more effective ways of doing this.

If only I can settle the nerves.

I mean, really, it is only my granddaughter who is conducting the interview, and the questions are relatively simple.

The trouble is, I’ve never had to do it before, well, perhaps in an interview for a job, but that is less daunting.  That usually sticks to a predefined format.

Here the narrative can go in any direction.  There are set questions, but the interviewer, in her inimitable manner, can sometimes slide a question in out of left field.

For instance, “Your character Zoe the assassin, is she based on someone you know, or an amalgam of other characters you’ve read about or seen in movies?”

That was an interesting question, and one that has several answers, but the one most relevant was; “It was the secret alter ego of one of the women I used to work with.  I asked her one day if she wasn’t doing what she was, what she would like to do.  It fascinated me that other people had the desire to be something more exotic in an alter ego.”

Of course, the next question was about what I wanted to be in an alter ego.

Maybe I’ll tell you next time.

Writing a book in 365 days – 347/348

Days 347 and 348

Use alternative words for Good, Afraid, Trouble, Look and Quiet…

The question was:  sum your life up in five words.

I’d heard about the show, one with a funny title that when people asked, they couldn’t quite get it exactly right, but close enough to “This was your life”.

I thought it was about dead people, odd, because I knew it was impossible to interview dead people, though those days, someone told me, anything was possible on television.

Then I thought it was about people almost at the end of their life, as a celebration of a celebrity, or someone famous.

It was a surprise to learn it was about ordinary people.

Like me.  You couldn’t find anyone more ordinary, or as several people told me, utterly forgettable.

That hurt, but in a sense, they were right.

Which made me wonder just how it was that I received a letter in the mail telling me I had been selected for an episode.

Of course, I thought someone was playing a hoax, and rang them, expecting to be laughed at, but no.  I was being asked to go on the show.

I have no idea why I agreed.

When I arrived at the studio, I was taken to an office where the executive producer told me what was going to happen: sign some papers to say I was not going to divulge details of the show before it was broadcast, and what my five words were.

They were different for each participant.

Today, they were recording five episodes.  I was going to be the last.

My words were Good, Afraid, Trouble, Look and Quiet.  I had plenty of time to think about them in relation to my story.

And that was the odd thing … I actually had a story.

“So,” the host said, in that mesmerising voice of hers that had both the audience and the objects entranced, “Tell us what the word Good means to you.”

Of course, it wasn’t just the word good, it was a better word that meant the same thing.

“It wasn’t just a good day, it was a fantastic, unbelievable day.”

I remembered it well, that last day of high school, when it was, in a lot of cases, the last time I would see my fellow classmates.

Most of them I never wanted to see again, because that final year had been marked by more lows than highs, culminating in my date for the Prom falling ill, and so I didn’t go.  Then I discovered she lied, went with my so-called best friend, and made those last weeks unbearable.

So much so, I headed straight for the railway station and intended to hide at my grandmother’s house on the other side of the country.

The day started badly, arguing with my parents, arguing with my siblings, getting into three separate scuffles at school, then coming home and throwing a few things into a backpack and leaving before I saw anyone at home.

Every step from the house to the railway depot was a reminder of each betrayal, so by the time I sat in the waiting room, an hour before the train was due, I was mentally and physically exhausted.

I expected someone from home would come and try to persuade me to stay.

They didn’t.

Perhaps that was the final betrayal.  The fact that not one of my own family cared whether I stayed or left.

Very few people took the train.  Most people leaving town went to the airport and got a plane.  There was a bus, but it took forever to get anywhere, and the train was an acceptable alternative.

I was the only one leaving town by train.

Until I wasn’t.

There were five students in that final year that I had to say shared my disposition, in that we preferred to study, get good grades and then go to college.  The other three left a week before, have all gained admission to an Ivy League university.

I hadn’t applied.

The other person was Alison Breton. 

She was one of those people who no one gave a second look at, or so much as a first.  She was clever, and all the boys didn’t like girls who were smarter than they.

She was also plain, or so it appeared, which caused most of the boys to point out her faults, such as how she presented herself.  Unlike the other girls who dressed to impress, wore make-up and looked stunning, even if it was an objectifying description, she preferred to be different.

I thought she was brave.

We barely spoke, though we were in the same study group with the three Ivy Leaguers.  Two of them were keen on her, but she was not the dating sort.  Or so they said.

Ten minutes before the train arrived, another person came and sat in the waiting room.

Alison Breton.

I ignored her for five whole minutes.  I mean, what could I say to her?

It was where the host mentioned the second word, afraid.

It was part of the truth, and summed up how I felt about her.  I was afraid of her.  Afraid, or, more to the point, literally terrified.

I had imagined in my mind many times what I would say to her, fabricating long and, I thought, interesting conversations.

And if I let my imagination stretch a little further, I might have to admit I liked her, perhaps more than I should, but could and would never admit it.  One humiliation by a girl in a lifetime was enough, and my completely shattered ego couldn’t take another rejection.

Five whole minutes before she said, “So you’re leaving this dump too?”

It was obvious I was, though the dump was harsh.

And then words came out that were not my own.  “What’s your excuse?”

I knew the moment I tried to speak to her, it would be over.  Maryanne, the betrayer, was different.  I could speak to her, and because of that, I thought she was the one.

She smiled.  “Probably the same as yours.  James told me he loved me, but he didn’t.  Apparently, I’m the subject of a bet.”

I’d heard a rumour and couldn’t believe it.  Or perhaps I could.  Small town, small-minded boys, one ambition, to have what they couldn’t.

“Best get out of town then.”  My solution to the problem wasn’t a one-size-fits-all all.

But it was a response to the host dropping the word trouble.  And then looked, and was quiet.  It seemed they were all intertwining in the narrative that was unfolding.

“That doesn’t explain your desire to leave, other than the Maryanne humiliation.  I guess a month away from here might make it go away.”

“It won’t.  I have brothers who will never let me forget.  You grow up in this place, no one forgets the trouble, or more appropriately, your legacy.”

“It’s always us quiet kids, eh, the ones who don’t make a fuss, who are studious and respectful, who don’t want to be noticed.  No matter how we look or feel.  I tried to be invisible.”

“It made you stand out more than the Maryannes.  I was just fodder for girls like her, pandering to the mores of the football team, and you know what they were like.”

Being smart didn’t make us immune from being hurt or hoping against hope we had a chance.

We both heard the sound of the horn in the distance, a warning that the train was approaching the railway crossing, about two or three miles outside of town.

The train, like always, was running late.

She stood.  “Where are you going?”

“San Francisco.  My grandmother.  She has a large house and many unusual friends.  She was an actress once, when Hollywood was going through its black and white phase.”

“I’m going there too.  My mother’s sister, though I suspect she isn’t.  Maybe we can pretend we’re brother and sister, to be safe.”

I shrugged.  Why not?  Once we got there, I’d probably never see her again.

“Except,” Alison said, holding my hand, and talking to the host with that whimsical expression she had when telling others the story of how we met, “we talked and talked and fell in love, got married, have five amazing children, twelve equally amazing grandchildren, and just lived our lives.  Nothing special, and yet to us, very, very special.”

And then, surprisingly, our time was up.  I had expected it would take half the time allotted.  Instead, it was two hours later, and no one, not any of us, had noticed.

©  Charles Heath  2025

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Sarajevo

The Un‑Seen Sarajevo: 5 Off‑The‑Beaten‑Path Experiences Worth the Detour

When you picture Sarajevo, you probably picture the iconic Baščaršija market, the Latin Bridge, or the panoramic tram ride up to the Sarajevo Bascarsija‑Tunnel Museum. Those sites are undeniably worth a visit, but the city’s real soul lives in the nooks and crannies that tourists rarely discover.
If you’re the type of traveller who prefers a side‑street over a main avenue, a hidden café over a crowded restaurant, or a quiet trail over a bustling viewpoint, keep reading. Below are five truly “road‑less‑travelled” activities that will give you a deeper, more intimate connection with Bosnia’s capital.


1️⃣ Wander the Secret Gardens of Vrelo Bosna – Beyond the Main Walkway

Why it feels off‑the‑map
Most visitors stroll the short, well‑signposted path that leads straight to the river’s mouth and snap a quick photo of the iconic meadow. Few venture farther up the valley where a network of stone‑lined footpaths winds through secluded glades, ancient oak groves, and a series of tiny, crystal‑clear pools that look like something out of a fairy‑tale.

What to do

  • Follow the “Old Trapper’s Trail.” Starting at the main parking lot, veer left after the first wooden bridge and look for a faded wooden sign reading “Staza lovca” (hunter’s trail).
  • Spot the “Stone‑Heart” (Kameni Srž). A natural limestone formation shaped like a heart, half‑submerged in a shallow pool—perfect for a quiet moment or a Instagram story that will genuinely surprise your followers.
  • Pack a light snack. The area is a perfect spot for a picnic under the shade of centuries‑old beech trees. Bring a small blanket, some local cheese (bjelica), and a bottle of Bosnian fruit‑wine.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Take bus line 16 from the city centre to the “Vrelo Bosna” stop (≈15 min). The trailhead is a few minutes’ walk from the stop.
  • Best time: Early morning (7–9 am) in spring or early autumn. The lighting is soft, the crowds are non‑existent, and the air smells of wild mint.
  • What to bring: Sturdy walking shoes (the path includes a few rocky sections), a reusable water bottle, and a small rain jacket—weather can change quickly in the valleys.

2️⃣ Sip Coffee at Kovačevići’s “Mali Hram” – A Hidden Bosnian‑Austro‑Hungarian Café

Why it feels off‑the‑map
Tucked inside a modest residential block of the Kovačevići neighbourhood, “Mali Hram” (The Little Temple) is a tiny, family‑run coffee house that has been serving Bosnian coffee the same way since the 1900s. Its interior is a living museum: brass coffee pots, hand‑stitched tablecloths, and a faded photograph of a young Emperor Franz Julius I strolling through Sarajevo’s streets.

What to do

  • Order the “Bosanska Cevapi” espresso. It’s a double‑shot, dark roasted brew served with a slice of “hurmašice” (traditional sweet dumpling) on the side.
  • Chat with the owners. The elderly couple love sharing stories about how the café survived the siege, the Austro‑Hungarian era, and the city’s post‑war revival.
  • Listen to the old radio. A vintage 1930s German radio plays folk songs in the background, giving you a tangible sense of Sarajevo’s multicultural past.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: From the central train station, hop on tram line 1 toward “Ilidža” and get off at “Kovačevići” (≈12 min). Walk two blocks east; the café is marked only by a tiny hand‑painted sign.
  • Best time: Mid‑afternoon, when locals gather for “kafa i razgovor.” Expect a relaxed, unhurried pace.
  • What to bring: Cash (most small cafés don’t accept cards) and a notebook—many visitors leave a short message on the community board.

3️⃣ Trek to Hajdučke Kule – The Forgotten Ottoman Watchtowers

Why it feels off‑the‑map
While most tourists flock to the historic Clock Tower, few know that a row of three smaller stone towers – the “Hajdučke Kule” (Bandit Towers) – sit on the steep hillside overlooking the old town. Built in the 16th century to spot incoming raiders, they now offer an unobstructed panorama of Sarajevo’s red‑tile roofs, the Miljacka River snaking below, and the distant peaks of the Dinaric Alps.

What to do

  • Climb the middle tower. A narrow spiral staircase (≈30 steps) leads to a small viewing platform with a rusted iron railing. Bring a compact camera; the view is unfiltered – no tourist crowds, just the city’s raw silhouette.
  • Explore the “Stone Labyrinth.” At the base of the towers lies a network of ancient stone walls that locals used for rope‑making. Walk the labyrinth and feel the cool stone under your feet.
  • Capture sunset light. The western orientation floods the towers with golden light just before sunset, creating dramatic shadows ideal for photography.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Take bus line 21 to “Koševo” and follow the signs to “Hajdučke Kule.” The trailhead is a short, steep stairwell leading up the hill.
  • Best time: Late afternoon in late spring or early summer, when the hillside is lush but the path isn’t slick.
  • What to bring: A flashlight (the interior of the towers is dim), a small first‑aid kit (the stairs are uneven), and a lightweight rain poncho.

4️⃣ Discover the Underground Art Gallery of the Sarajevo Tunnel – A Post‑War Secret

Why it feels off‑the‑map
The Sarajevo Tunnel Museum is a well‑known symbol of resilience, but beneath its concrete entrance lies a concealed, community‑run art space called “Podzemni Studio.” Created in 1997 by a group of former tunnel workers, it showcases raw, politically charged artworks made from salvaged war materials—metal, bullet casings, and glass shards.

What to do

  • Take the “Hidden Passage” tour. A volunteer guide leads a small group (max 8 people) down a dimly lit corridor to the studio. You’ll hear personal anecdotes about how the space helped heal trauma after the siege.
  • Interact with the installations. Some pieces are tactile; you can run your fingers over a sculpture made of welded railway tracks, symbolising the city’s connection between past and future.
  • Purchase a “Tunnel‑Made” souvenir. Small items—keychains, magnets, or hand‑crafted ceramic mugs—are sold to support the artists.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Walk from the main tunnel museum (just a 5‑minute stroll). Look for the narrow door on the left side of the parking lot marked “Studio.”
  • Best time: Weekdays, early in the morning (9–11 am). The studio limits visitors to preserve the intimate atmosphere.
  • What to bring: A modest donation (the gallery is non‑profit), a respectful demeanour (some works deal with heavy themes), and curiosity.

5️⃣ Attend a Traditional “Sevdalinka” Evening in the Village of Bojan

Why it feels off‑the‑map
Sevdalinka, the soulful Bosnian folk song, is often performed in touristy restaurants in the Old Town. In Bojan—a small farming village 12 km south of Sarajevo—elder musicians gather every Saturday night in the courtyard of a centuries‑old stone house, singing unaccompanied a cappella renditions passed down through generations.

What to do

  • Join the circle. Bring a small portable seat or blanket, and sit on the low stone steps while locals welcome you with a warm “Dobrodošli.”
  • Learn a line. The host will hand you a lyric sheet and teach you the chorus—an unforgettable way to become part of the tradition.
  • Taste homemade “pita.” Freshly baked burek and honey‑drizzled pita (pie) are served on rustic wooden plates.

Practical tips

  • Getting there: Rent a car or take a local “taxi‑bush” (mini‑bus) from the “Ilidža” bus station to Bojan. The trip takes about 30 minutes on winding country roads.
  • Best time: Late summer (July–August) when the evenings are warm and the village’s olive trees are in full bloom.
  • What to bring: A respectful attitude, a small contribution (a bottle of local rakija or a few euros) for the host, and a camera with a discreet flash setting—photos are welcomed, but flash isn’t.

How to Fit All Five Into a 3‑Day Itinerary

DayMorningAfternoonEvening
1Vrelo Bosna hidden trails – hike & picnicHajdučke Kule – climb towers & sunsetMali Hram café – coffee & conversation
2Underground art gallery – Tunnel Studio tourBojan Sevdalinka evening – travel to villageReturn to Sarajevo for a nightcap in the Old Town
3Free day – revisit favorite spot or explore other museumsOptional: River rafting on the Miljacka or a museum of contemporary Bosnian artWrap‑up dinner at a local konoba (tavern) featuring live folk music

Feel free to shuffle the order—each activity stands on its own, but the rhythm above balances active exploration with relaxed cultural immersion.


Final Thoughts: Why the “Road‑Less‑Travelled” Matters

Travel isn’t just a checklist of monuments; it’s a conversation with the people, the landscapes, and the hidden histories that shape a place. In Sarajevo, the well‑trodden path tells you what the city is, while the side streets, secret gardens, and tucked‑away cafés whisper how Sarajevo has survived, adapted, and continued to sing its unique song.

So next time you book a trip to Bosnia’s capital, consider swapping one of those popular sights for a hidden trail, a modest coffee shop, or an underground gallery. You’ll return home with stories that are truly yours, and you’ll leave a lighter footprint—one that respects the intimacy of the places you discover.

Ready to venture off the map? Pack your walking shoes, bring an open heart, and let Sarajevo’s quieter corners reveal themselves. Happy exploring! 🌿🕌✨

What I learned about writing – Sometimes it’s hard to concentrate

It sounds like the title of a book and maybe I should write it.  Along with the twenty other story ideas that are currently running around in my head.

Is it any wonder I can’t sleep at night.

I’m working on the latest book and it is not going well.  I don’t have writer’s block, I think it is more a case of self-doubt.

This leads me to be over critical of what I have written and much pressing of the delete key.  Only to realize that an action taken in haste can be regrettable, and makes me feel even more depressed.

I think I’d be happier in a garret somewhere channeling van Gogh’s rage.

Lesson learned – don’t delete, save it to a text file so it can be retrieved when sanity returns.

I was not happy with the previous start.  Funny about that, because until a few weeks ago I thought the start was perfect.

What a difference a week makes or is that politics?

Perhaps I should consider adding some political satire.

But I digress…

It seems it’s been like that for a few weeks now, not being able to stick to the job in hand, doing anything but what I’m supposed to be doing.  I recognize the restlessness, I’m not happy with the story as it is, so rather than getting on with it, I find myself writing words just for the sake of writing words.

Any words are better than none, right?

So I rewrote the start, added about a hundred pages and now I have to do a mass of rewriting of what was basically the whole book.

But here’s the thing.

This morning I woke up and looked at the new start, and it has inspired me.

Perhaps all I needed was several weeks of teeth gnashing, and self-doubt to get myself back on track.

Who would want to be a writer?

Me!  First in line, every time!