Category: Blog

An excerpt from “Sunday in New York”

Now available on Amazon at:  https://amzn.to/2H7ALs8

…

Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.

We met the Blaines at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaines frequently visited and had recommended.

Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’.  It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.

It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over.  It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.

Aside from the half-frown, half-smile, Alison was looking stunning.  It had been months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary.  On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to.  She had adored it and me, for a week or so after.

For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.

She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars get on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds of silence, and many more gasps.

I even had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room.  Once more, I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me.  Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others out there who were more appealing.

Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight.  She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.

More than once, I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”

Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together.  It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement.  Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.

The battle lines were drawn.

Jimmy was looking fashionable, with a permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and a designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it.  Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.

The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out, she had straightened it.  And took the moment to look deeply into my soul.  It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.

Then it was gone.

I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me.  A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.

When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.”  It was not a question, but a statement.

I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’, but I accepted it with good grace.  Sometimes, Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand.  I guessed she was talking about the new job.  “It was supposed to be a secret.”

She smiled widely.  “There are no secrets between Al and me, are there, Al?”

I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.

I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al.  I tried it once and was admonished.  But it was interesting that her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not.  It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.

Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil.  As I understood it, the Blaines were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in.  I didn’t ask if the Blaines thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.

And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realised I was looking at both of them.  I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand.  And yet, apparently, Alison did.  I must have missed the memo.

“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”

No secrets.  Her look conveyed something else entirely.

The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us.  It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me.  We were going to need it.

Then, a toast.

To a new job and a new life.

“When did you decide?”  Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.

Alison had a strange expression on her face.  It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind.  Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.

Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realised it would be churlish, even silly, if I made a scene.  I knew what I wanted to say.  I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine or upsetting Alison.  This was not the time or the place.  Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.

Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing.  If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decided there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control.  “It’s the little things.  They all add up until one day …”  I shrugged.  “I guess that one day was today.”

I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real?  Or, I told you he’d come around.

I had no idea the two were so close.

“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me.  I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points.  It was all I could come up with at short notice.

“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted.  “Alison was off to get some studying in with one of her friends.”

“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up and immediately got the ‘shut up, you fool’ look that cut that line of conversation dead.  Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.

It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose.  Care to join me, Al?”

A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend.  “Yes.”

I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation.  I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.

I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.

There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show.  I was quite literally gob-smacked.

I drained my champagne glass, gathering some courage and turned to him.  “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up.  You know Alison is doing her law degree.”

He looked startled when he realised I had spoken.  He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed.  Or perhaps it was deliberate.  She’d definitely had some enhancements done.

He dragged his eyes back to me.  “Yes.  Elaine said something or other about it.  But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week.  Perhaps I got it wrong.  I usually do.”

“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.”  I shrugged as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again.  “This week or next, what does it matter?”

Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart.  It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; she might have been telling me lies.  If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?

We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”

“Trouble, I suspect.  Definitely more money, but less time at home.”

“Oh,” raised eyebrows.  Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details.  “You sure you want to do that?”

At last, the voice of reason.  “Me?  No.”

“Yet you accepted the job.”

I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him.  Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him.  “Jimmy, between you and me, I haven’t as yet decided one way or another.  To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”

“Barclay?”

“My boss.”

“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay who recently moved into the tower a block down from us.  I thought I recognised the name.”

“How did Elaine get the job?”

“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”

“When?”

“A couple of months ago.  Why?”

I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker.  I felt sick, faint, and wanted to die all at the same moment.  “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time.  Too busy with work, I expect.  I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”

I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted, and I knew I had to keep it together.  I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down.  I sucked in some deep breaths and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.

And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown.  Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”

Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth.  It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction.  It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.

When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and me.  I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, but it didn’t matter.  If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact that I took over the dining engagement did.  She knew well enough that the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket.  She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.

But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points.  Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine.  She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.

Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly.  I chose to ignore her and pretend nothing had happened, rather than tell her how much I was enjoying the evening.

She had her ‘secrets’.  I had mine.

At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent-up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me.  It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, that Jimmy came looking for me.  I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse.  When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was, but neither made any comment.

It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which, to a large degree, it was for the other three.  But I had achieved what I set out to do: to play them at their own game, watching the deception once I knew there was one, as warily as a cat watches its prey.

I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree.  It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.

We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaines back to the Upper West Side.  But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer.  She showed concern for my health and asked me what was wrong.  It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.

She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it.  Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.

And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.

It left me confused and lost.

I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.

And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.

…

© Charles Heath 2015-2026

Sunday In New York

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to write a war story – Episode 37

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

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

And, so, it continues…

…

Johannsen hadn’t signed up for this. He’d been in the room when Leonardo reported to Wallace, to tell him that the villagers had been neutralised, and he brought the ring leaders of the so-called resistance to the castle.

By his reckoning, Leonardo and his men had killed probably 20 or so people who had nothing to do with the war, other than try to live around the war going on in their backyard.

In fact, when he had arrived at the castle, the intention was to work with the locals and the resistance to facilitate the onward movement of prized defectors. Until Jackerby arrived, and the dynamic changed.

Johannsen hadn’t realised that Wallace was a double agent, not until it was too late.

The thing of it was, Wallace thought he was a double agent too, a belief Johannsen had taken extreme care not to dispel. And, where it was possible, he had tried to help those caught up in Wallace’s trap.

Wallace was already in situ at the castle when Johannsen arrived with another four men to join those already there, on order from London to vet the incoming defectors. Those four he had met at the plane, and he hadn’t realised they were not who they were supposed to be. By the time the four who had been replaced were found, it was too late to stop the mission.

That brought the complement to 10 including Wallace and himself. Then he received a message, one he assumed was from Thompson, advising the arrival of a further 5, Jackerby and four soldiers.

He soon discovered that those orders were false.

When Jackerby reported to Wallace, and the fact Wallace sent him out of the room, he stayed behind, hidden, to listen to the conversation. There he discovered he was in the midst of an enemy operation that had enlisted a number of double agents across Euprope from the German Army.

He then tried to warn Thompson in a coded message, but that had been substituted by Wallace with another, causing another lamb to be sent to the slaughter, Atherton. When Jackerby first arrived, he advised Wallace, not Johannsson, that Atherton was not one of them, so an attempt was made on,his life, but failed.

For a while that was the equivalent of throwing a cat among the pigeons.

By the time the paratroopers arrived, there was no effort to hide who they were or what they were doing. The castle was, for all intents and purposes, a Nazi stronghold, there to collect and execute defectors. All he had to do was play his part, and try not to rouse the suspicions of Jackerby, whom, it seemed, trusted no one.

Wallace wasn’t all that interested in being as suspicious as Jackerby, who had to be gestapo, or worse, one of the SS.

But luck was on Johansson side when he took a plan to Wallace that would essentially free Atherton, and then have Atherton lead them to the other resistance. It was also a master stroke to select Burke, a simple man who liked to think everything was his idea.

That Atherton had got away was no fault of his, but those charged with following him. Jackerby had tried to mess with him, but Wallace intervened, telling Jackerby that he had had missing people too and should be out there looking for them.

With any luck, Johansson thought, they would be dead, a likely result since none of them had come back yet.
Now, all he could do was sit and wait for Atherton and whoever was left from the resistance to come and stop Wallace, and especially Jackerby.

Johansson knew that Atherton had a good working knowledge of the castle’s architecture, because on one occasion they had discussed archaeology. Johansson was not an archaeologist, but had worked with one and an assistant, before the war, at several digs.

He was hoping Atherton had a idea where there might be a secret entrance to the castle. It was old, and in his spare time, he had been pacing out room measurements, looking for nooks and crannies, and anything else that would be useful.

He had found a room full of swords, not exactly in fighting condition, but might be useful in a situation that called for a weapon. After all, he had taken a few sword fighting lessons at the university.

He had traversed several stone passageways, found two different passageways from the upstairs down to the radio room, and beyond that, where there was an exit or entrance, what in modern terminology would be called the tradesman’s entrance.

It was for all intents and purposes, a back door.

He had also gone around the whole perimeter of the outer castle wall, looking for holes. When he thought about it, leaving holes in the wall was asking for trouble because the idea was to keep people out, not to leave quickly and quietly in the middle of a siege.

And this castle had seen a few sieges in its time. More than once if he could travel back in time, he would have like to see what it was like 200 years ago, or more.

But there were only three entrances or exits that he knew of. There were no grates on the ground, or anywhere within 20 yards of the exterior wall, or conveniently hidden in the surrounding forests.

He was also sure there were hidden passageways inside the castle that must go somewhere, a result of checking internal measurements of rooms, and a few came up oddly short a few yards.

Still down in the dungeon on another of his subterfuges, the new arrivals guard had just appeared.

“The woman is awake.”

“Thanks.”

Now, if he could just get some sense out of her.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2021

Skeletons in the closet, and doppelgangers

A story called “Mistaken Identity”

…

How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect them.

In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.

I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.

Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half-brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.

There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.

Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.

It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.

For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.

It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!

And a great idea for a story.

That story is called ‘Mistaken Identity’.

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 38

Here’s the thing…

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

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

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

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

…

Before we embarked on the great driving expedition, for which I was beginning to think might be harder than it seemed to Boggs’ one-track mind, we decided to go and check out the mall, and if, indeed, there was an underground river, or, at the very least, if his flooding theory was correct. 

We were going to need very old clothes, and when I left the next morning, my mother noticed it.

“I’m going to do some gardening with Boggs.  He came up with this notion we could help out at the old folk’s home.”

“That’s a nice thought.”

And it was a lie I knew would eventually come back to bite me.  My mother hadn’t exactly told me to stop seeing Boggs, because she was beginning to think his mental capacity had been diminished after the beating.

It was a logical and perfectly acceptable reason for his odd behavior.

I went directly to Boggs’ house, and he was waiting for me.  From there it was about twenty minutes, to a spot where he knew the surrounding fence had a hole big enough for us to crawl through.

It was odd seeing the place again, sitting out a few miles from the town, looking forlorn.  At the front entrance, off the road specially built between it and the town, there were miles of cyclone fencing, with signs alternately telling people to keep out on threat of prosecution for trespass, and more recently, hazard signs proclaiming the whole area was unsafe.

From where we’d stopped, we could see the carpark, enough for hundreds of cars, a bus terminus, a taxi rank, and the front façade of the shopping center, mostly looking like the front of a castle, with towers and ramparts.

There had been auxiliary plans for a medieval theme park at one stage, that would have blended in with the mall buildings, but that had to be abandoned, even though the land allocated to it was stable.  Or so a surveyor said.

We continued on until we reached the side leading to the marina.  From this vantage point looking one way, there was the ocean, and the other, the damage to the side of the mall buildings, the cracks, and, in places, where the roof had collapsed.

This would be the first time I’d set foot in the place since it had been a mall.

It had been popular, and there was always plenty of people shopping, eating and drinking, going to the cinemas, or just having a day out.  There had also been a museum dedicated to the naval days.

Now there was nothing.

It was ironic that as many of the castles in the British Isles that had been reduced to rubble, that was exactly what was going to happen here if someone didn’t take a bulldozer to the lot and level it out.

And that might happen sooner rather than later.  This was reputed to be the site of many a disappearance of a local person.  Three girls, two men, and a boy were supposedly hidden somewhere inside the mall, but the bodies had never been found.

I was thinking of those missing people when I said, with a degree of trepidation, “Do you really want to do this?  I mean, if you’re sure there’s an underground waterway here, I’ll happily take your word for it.”

Boggs just shook his head.  “You’re the last person I’d expect to chicken out.”

“It not that.”

“Isn’t it?  I can go by myself if you’re worried about getting hurt.”

“No.  You and me together.  I have to learn to fight those fears.”

Another look, then, “OK.  “Just a little further.”

Another minute or so, we reached a large rusting cylinder which had an almost illegible sign on it say the tank held inflammable liquid.  I tapped on the metal and it sounded empty.  I guess as part of the shut down they would have had to drain the tank.  I followed the tangle of pipes that ran slightly downhill for about 20 yards and then saw the opening in the fence Boggs had referred to.

We left our bikes behind the tank, among some bushes.

We then walked down to the fence line where the pipes passed through, and Boggs pulled back the chain wire.  A closer look showed it had been cut halfway up, making it easy to slip by, easier if there were two people along for the visit.

“Did you cut the fence,” I asked him.

He didn’t answer.  I guess he wanted me to think he had.

“Have you been here before?”

“Through here, yes.  A few times.”  He held the wire away and I climbed through.  I did the same for him on the other side, and he joined me.  The two halves melded back together so from a distance no one could tell the fence had been tampered with.

From the fence, we had to cross the access road to the marina, and across a carpark, now overgrown with weeds, and bushes, with the odd tree springing up through the cracks in the concrete.

The wall, when we reached it, was where several large cracks joined, and part of the wall had fallen away leaving a hole large enough to crawl through.  I put my head through the crack and could barely see anything.  There was light coming from the seaward side, but on the other, it was inky darkness.

There was also a very disturbing aroma, like freshly laid concrete crossed with the smell of a garage repair shop.  Years of spilled oil and grease.

“Is it safe?”  I asked.

Boggs shrugged.  “It could all fall down at any moment.  You read the signs on the fence.  Basically, this is, on one hand, cheating death.  On the other, we could be on the verge of an interesting discovery.”  Then, without another word, he went through the gap and inside. 

A few seconds later, I could see the light from his cell phone.

I shrugged.  If anything happened, like the building falling on me, I probably wouldn’t feel it.  And he was right, we could be on the verge of an interesting discovery.

I followed him inside and slid down the broken concrete and bricks to a dirty but solid-feeling floor, where Boggs was waiting, the light from his phone pointed in the direction of a storefront.

And looking at a dummy still dressed in clothes left behind.

I couldn’t help but think I’d seen that style of clothes somewhere before.

© Charles Heath 2020

The 2am Rant: There are days when everything annoys you

I wanted to write a bit about how my day was going, and then I got angry.  It was a slow fuse because most of what I was angry about I’d been reading this morning.

And, yes, it’s about political leaders, those in power and those in opposition, and how inept they are in a crisis.

Listening to our opposition leader, briefly before I turned him off to watch a rerun of McHale’s Navy, it annoyed me that he had no answers to offer, only criticism.

Unfortunately, he’s not alone in the world.

Political leaders tended to blame everyone else for problems of their own making, whether it was when they were once in power, which happens a lot, or once they’re in opposition, conveniently forgetting they, too, hoped that by ignoring the problem, it might go away.

Or that the long-suffering public will have forgotten.  That’s why we have pugnacious journalists who remember for us.

The incompetence of the people who are supposedly in charge beggars belief.

Oh, God, I’m back on my soapbox.

Forgive me.

I’ll shut up about it now.

I’m trying to imagine what it’s like in the cold because it’s the height of summer here.  It’s not helping my imagination,  so let’s try…

It’s cold today, about 14 degrees Celsius, when it’s usually 27 degrees Celsius.  The sun is letting us down, and I suppose I should be grateful that we are not suffering from an ice age.

To be honest, I was seriously considering lighting the log fire.  Instead, we have reverse cycle air-conditioning, which is probably, in the long run, cheaper.

Have you seen how much it costs to buy wood?

But…

That could have made it difficult to write.

Not to come up with inspiration, but literally write, because my office is colder than a chiller room.  My beer in storage out here is colder than it is in the fridge.  Well, that sounded better in my head than on paper, but you get what I mean.

So, instead of writing, I sat down and binge-watched Sweet Magnolias, a light-hearted series from Netflix, which is of the same vein as Chesapeake Shores, etc, and more the sort of program I’d expect from Hallmark.

It was good.  It hooked me.

Three sets of lives intertwined in a large town in middle America perhaps.  I heard Charleston mentioned so perhaps it was in South Carolina.

The good thing about it?  Not one mention of political stupidity.

Just good old-fashioned heartache and trials and tribulations of trying to live your life, bumping up against the obstacles life throws up at you.

The town was called Serenity, so there’s a pun in there somewhere.

Maybe I’ll get some writing done tomorrow.

What I learned about writing – Navigating the beta reader jungle

Navigating the Beta Reader Journey: Finding Your Tribe and Embracing the Feedback

You’ve poured your heart, soul, and countless hours into your manuscript. The final word is typed, the last paragraph polished (for the tenth time), and the initial exhilaration of “The End” begins to fade, replaced by a new, exciting, and slightly terrifying question: What now?

For many authors, the answer is: beta readers.

Beta readers are your book’s first audience. They’re not editors, but rather regular readers who offer fresh eyes and honest feedback on the story, characters, pacing, and overall impact before you dive into professional editing. Think of them as your secret weapon for uncovering blind spots and ensuring your manuscript truly shines.

But how do you find these elusive, invaluable individuals? And once you do, what should you expect from the experience? Let’s dive in.

Part 1: The Great Beta Reader Hunt – Finding Your Tribe

Finding the right beta readers is less about luck and more about strategic searching and clear communication. Here are some of the best places to look:

  1. Online Writing Communities:
    • Goodreads Groups: Many groups are specifically dedicated to beta reading and critique. Search for “beta readers,” “critique partners,” or your specific genre.
    • Facebook Groups: Similar to Goodreads, there are countless author and writer groups. Be sure to read group rules before posting your request.
    • Reddit: Subreddits like r/betareaders, r/DestructiveReaders (for advanced critiques), and r/writing often have threads or dedicated days for seeking feedback.
    • Dedicated Critique Sites (e.g., Scribophile, Critique Circle): These platforms operate on a credit system, where you earn credits by critiquing others’ work, which you then use to get critiques on your own. This ensures active participation and reciprocal feedback.
  2. Writer Friends & Networks:
    • Author Buddies: If you have author friends (even if they write in different genres), they can be excellent beta readers because they understand the writing process. You can even swap manuscripts.
    • Local Writing Groups: Check your local library, community centre, or independent bookstores for writing groups. These often have members eager to lend an eye.
    • Conference Connections: Anyone you’ve met at writing conferences or workshops could be a potential beta.
  3. Your Existing Audience (with caution):
    • If you have an email list, a strong social media following, or a blog, you might ask your most engaged readers.
    • Caveat: Ensure they understand they’re giving constructive criticism, not just fan praise. Make it clear you’re looking for honest feedback to improve, not just compliments.

Preparing Your “Beta Reader Ask”:

Before you send out that SOS, have these ready:

  • A concise Blurb/Synopsis: Something that hooks potential readers and accurately describes your book.
  • Genre & Word Count: Crucial for attracting readers who enjoy your type of story and have the time to commit.
  • Target Reader Profile: Who is your ideal reader? This helps betas assess if they’re a good fit.
  • Specific Questions: What kind of feedback are you looking for? (e.g., “Did the plot twists land?” “Were the characters believable?” “Was the pacing consistent?” “Where did you get confused or bored?”)
  • Timeline: Be realistic. A novel usually takes 2-4 weeks for a thorough read.
  • Desired Format: Do you want comments directly in the document, a questionnaire, or a general email?

Part 2: Embracing the Feedback – What to Expect

You’ve found your betas, sent out your manuscript, and the feedback starts rolling in. This is where the real growth happens, but it can also be an emotional rollercoaster.

Expect a Mix of Feedback:

  1. The Good:
    • Validation: Someone loved your villain! A scene you adored resonated with them. This is fuel for your writing soul.
    • Clarity: They pinpointed exactly where something clicked, or where they understood your intentions.
    • Big Picture Insights: They spotted a plot hole, identified a character whose motivations were unclear, or suggested a pacing adjustment that makes perfect sense. This is gold.
  2. The Challenging (But Necessary):
    • Conflicting Opinions: One beta loves a character, another finds them annoying. One thinks a scene is too long, another wishes it were longer. This is normal! Not every reader will agree, and it’s your job to find the common threads and decide what resonates with your vision.
    • Areas of Weakness: They might point out plot inconsistencies, underdeveloped subplots, or moments where tension sags. These aren’t personal attacks; they’re opportunities for improvement.
    • Honest (Sometimes Blunt) Language: Some readers are more direct than others. Try to detach emotion and focus on the substance of the feedback.
  3. The Less Useful:
    • Line Edits/Typos: While appreciated, this isn’t their primary job. Don’t base major revisions on these.
    • Vague Statements: “I just didn’t like it.” Without specifics, this is hard to act on.
    • Personal Preferences vs. Objective Issues: “I don’t like fantasy” isn’t helpful if you wrote a fantasy novel. Focus on feedback that points to structural or storytelling problems, not just taste.

How to Process Beta Reader Feedback:

  • Take a Deep Breath: It’s your baby, and hearing criticism can sting. Give yourself time to cool down before responding or making decisions.
  • Don’t Defend: Listen, read, absorb. Thank them for their time and honesty. This isn’t a debate.
  • Look for Patterns: If multiple betas point out the same issue (e.g., “The beginning was slow,” “I didn’t understand why Character X did that”), that’s a signal to pay serious attention.
  • Trust Your Gut (Ultimately): You are the author. While beta feedback is crucial, you don’t have to implement every suggestion. It’s your story. Weigh the advice against your artistic vision.
  • Keep Perspective: Beta readers are giving you their time and opinion for free (usually). Their goal is to help you make your book better.

Beta readers are an invaluable part of the writing journey, bridging the gap between your solitary creation and the wider world of readers. By proactively seeking them out and approaching their feedback with an open mind, you set your manuscript up for its best possible chance of success. Happy hunting, and happy revising!

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – My Second Story 28

More about my second novel

…

In a day of going over old ground and making it new again, I have revisited Zoe’s residence in Paris at the time John called, and found it empty, except for some kid who was all ‘get lost or suffer the consequences.’

Who is he?  We flesh out that story and how it relates to Zoe and those early days.

Similarly, I’m still not happy with how Worthington discovers Zoe; this is going to need some more work and definitely a rewrite.

In fact, I might have to revisit his whole appearance in the story and make it a little less bombastic and a little more subdued, seething with anger.

The whole Marseilles episode is good; it’s just the end and this discovery of who is behind Zoe’s abduction that needs a little work.  This is where we sow the enigmatic seeds of Romanov and his purpose for wanting Zoe, if it is not revenge, as it is assumed.

Similarly, that whole thing with the Russian Minister and Anton needs a lot more work because there appears to be a connection between him and Romanov, but there’s not.  This is just Olga leaning on her connections to get a result.

Then Zoe takes off to find Romanov, or is it those seeking revenge? It’s not quite clear, and it leaves John to contemplate his future.  Perhaps a piece here between them that sets the tone for the relationship over the coming months would be good, and the trigger that sets John off on a quest to find her.

His excuses at the moment are wishy-washy at best.

Phew!!!  Never knew self-criticism could be so harsh!

…

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Helsinki

Discover Helsinki Beyond the Usual: 5 Hidden Gems to Explore

Helsinki, the vibrant capital of Finland, is renowned for its architectural splendour, vibrant art scene, and serene access to the archipelago. Yet, beyond the iconic Senate Square and the UNESCO-listed Suomenlinna, there’s a trove of offbeat experiences waiting to be uncovered. If you’re eager to venture off the well-trodden path, here are five lesser-known treasures to add to your Helsinki itinerary.

1. Stroll Through the Helsinki Botanical Garden (Kaisaniemi)

Tucked near the parliament building in Kaisaniemi, this haven of greenery offers a tranquil escape from the city’s hustle. Established in 1855, the garden spans 5.6 hectares and features a glasshouse housing over 12,000 plant species from around the world. In summer, the lush herb garden and seasonal flowerbeds are a riot of colour, while autumn brings fiery foliage. A peaceful walk here is the perfect way to appreciate Helsinki’s natural beauty without the crowds.

Pro Tip: Combine your visit with a constitutional at the adjacent Parliament Square (Kanssakuntori) for a slice of Helsinki’s political and ecological charm.

2. Unwind on Ulvila Cathedral Island

Just a short bus and ferry ride from central Helsinki lies Ulvila, a quiet island known for its historic cathedral and serene atmosphere. Once the favoured retreat of Finnish presidents, this hidden gem is accessible via a scenic 40-minute ferry ride. Explore the 17th-century Ulvila Church, stroll through its secluded cemetery, or simply soak in the views of the surrounding archipelago. With no restaurants or shops, it’s a spot to disconnect and reconnect with nature.

Pro Tip: Pack a picnic to enjoy on the island’s rocky shoreline, where the Baltic Sea shimmers under the midnight sun in summer.

3. Shop for Local Crafts at the Kadu Market

Nestled in Helsinki’s Design District (Kadu), the Kadu Market is a weekly pop-up paradise for design lovers. Held every Saturday in the summer and on weekends during winter, this market showcases handmade crafts, vintage finds, and locally sourced Nordic products. From organic skincare to handcrafted jewellery, it’s a vibrant window into Helsinki’s creative community.

Pro Tip: Stay afterwards to explore Kadu’s boutique shops and cafés, like the cozy Apartment 42 café, known for its Instagram-worthy sundaes.

4. Get Lost in the Kiasma Museum of Contemporary Art

Helsinki’s modern art scene is on full display at Kiasma, a striking building designed by American architect Steven Holl. The museum’s ever-changing exhibits blend international and Finnish art, often pushing boundaries with avant-garde installations. Its unique, glass-clad structure and spiral layout make it a visual treat, while the free guided tours (in multiple languages) offer deeper insights into the works.

Pro Tip: Visit during the museum’s opening hours (weekends often have extended hours) to fully absorb the atmosphere without the weekday rush.

5. Picnic in Rastila Park, Helsinki’s Oldest Public Park

Founded in 1838, Rastila Park is a green oasis nestled between the Baltic Sea and Helsinki’s city centre. This lesser-known park is ideal for solo walks, family outings, or a quiet picnic on its grassy lawns. The park’s modest charm lies in its simplicity—think ancient trees, children playing on the playground, and the distant hum of the city. It’s a rare spot where Helsinki’s past and present coexist harmoniously.

Pro Tip: Pair your visit with a stop at Kahvila Rastila, a nearby café serving excellent Nordic-inspired dishes.

Final Thoughts

While Helsinki’s landmarks are undeniably captivating, these hidden spots offer a more intimate and personal experience of the city. Whether you’re wandering through a historic island, discovering modern art, or simply relaxing in nature, these destinations showcase Helsinki’s diversity and depth. Pack your curiosity, embrace the unexpected, and let the road less travelled reveal itself.

Ready to explore Helsinki beyond the usual? These five spots are waiting to become your favourite stories.

In a word: Saw or Sore or Soar

In the first or second instance of the word Sore, we all know this malady can sometimes fester into something a lot worse.

Or that a person could be a sore loser

Or after spending an hour on the obstacle course, they come off very sore and sorry.  I never quite understood why they should be sorry because no one ever apologises to an inanimate object.  Or do they?

Or perhaps he was sore at his friend for not telling him the truth.

Then, there’s another meaning, saw, which can mean the past tense of seeing, that is, I saw them down by the pool.

I could also use a saw, you know, that thing that cuts through wood, steel, plastic, almost anything.  And yes, it’s possible someone might actually saw through a loaf of bread.

There are hand saws, electric saws, band saws, coping saws, and even a bread knife, all of these have one thing in common, a serrated edge with teeth of different sizes, designed to cut, smoothly or roughly depending on the size.

Add it to bones, and you have Captain Kirk’s description of his medical officer on the Enterprise.  I’m not sure any doctor would like to be addressed as saw-bones.

But then, confusingly in the way only English can do, there’s another word that sounds exactly the same, soar

This, of course, means hovering up there in the heavens, with or without propulsion or oxygen.

Yes, it’s difficult to soar with eagles when you work with turkeys.  I’ve always liked this expression though most of the time people don’t quite understand what it means.

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Capri

Discovering the Hidden Gems of Capri: 5 Off-the-Beaten-Path Experiences

Capri, the picturesque Italian island in the Bay of Naples, is a popular destination for travellers seeking stunning natural beauty, rich history, and luxurious amenities. While many visitors flock to the island’s famous Blue Grotto and bustling town centre, there’s more to Capri than meets the eye. For those willing to venture off the beaten path, the island offers a treasure trove of unique experiences waiting to be uncovered. In this blog post, we’ll explore the top five alternative things to do in Capri, taking you on a journey to discover the island’s lesser-known charms.

1. Hike the Sentiero dei Fortini: A Scenic Trail with Breathtaking Views

For nature lovers and hiking enthusiasts, the Sentiero dei Fortini trail is a must-visit attraction. This scenic path winds its way along the island’s rugged coastline, offering breathtaking views of the Mediterranean Sea and the surrounding landscape. The trail is dotted with historic fortifications, including the 19th-century Fortini, which provide a glimpse into Capri’s fascinating military past. As you hike, keep an eye out for the island’s unique flora and fauna, including the rare Capri bee orchid.

2. Visit the Certosa di San Giacomo: A Serene Oasis in the Heart of Capri

Tucked away in a quiet corner of the island, the Certosa di San Giacomo is a 14th-century monastery that exudes peace and tranquillity. This former Carthusian monastery is now a museum, showcasing an impressive collection of art and artifacts, including works by local artists and stunning examples of medieval architecture. The monastery’s beautifully manicured gardens and tranquil courtyards provide a serene oasis, perfect for escaping the hustle and bustle of Capri’s town centre.

3. Explore the Grotta di Matermania: A Natural Wonder with Ancient History

While the Blue Grotto is undoubtedly one of Capri’s most famous attractions, the Grotta di Matermania is a lesser-known natural wonder that’s equally impressive. This ancient Roman cave is filled with stunning rock formations, crystal-clear waters, and a unique array of marine life. According to legend, the grotto was once a sacred place of worship, and its mystical atmosphere is still palpable today. Visit the Grotta di Matermania for an unforgettable experience that combines natural beauty with ancient history.

4. Discover the Villa Jovis: A Ruined Roman Palace with a Rich History

Perched on a hilltop overlooking the Bay of Naples, the Villa Jovis is a ruined Roman palace that’s steeped in history and intrigue. Built in the 1st century AD, this ancient villa was once the summer residence of the Roman Emperor Tiberius, and its impressive remains offer a fascinating glimpse into the island’s imperial past. As you explore the villa’s crumbling ruins, keep an eye out for the stunning views of the surrounding landscape and the sparkling Mediterranean Sea.

5. Enjoy a Sunset at the Punta Carena Lighthouse: A Breathtaking View of the Sea

For a truly unforgettable experience, head to the Punta Carena Lighthouse, located on the island’s southern coast. This picturesque lighthouse is one of the oldest on the Amalfi Coast, and its stunning views of the Mediterranean Sea are simply breathtaking. Watch the sunset from the lighthouse’s scenic viewpoint, and marvel at the kaleidoscope of colours that dance across the sky. As the stars begin to twinkle, the lighthouse’s tranquil atmosphere is the perfect place to unwind and reflect on your Capri adventure.

In conclusion, Capri is more than just a popular tourist destination – it’s an island with a rich history, stunning natural beauty, and a wealth of hidden gems waiting to be discovered. By venturing off the beaten path and exploring the island’s lesser-known attractions, you’ll experience the authentic charm of Capri and create memories that will last a lifetime. So why not take the road less travelled and discover the real Capri?