The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 89

Here’s the thing…

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

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

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

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

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We have a situation

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Home wasn’t home anymore.

I stood inside the front door, as I had many times in the past, but this time it was different.

Maybe it was the near-death experience, maybe I hadn’t been there for a few days, maybe I had irrevocably changed in those few short days.

It seemed that I was someone else, that the old Sam had gone away, and a new version had replaced him. Had I finally grown up, or was I still reeling from the ordeal and, more likely, mourning the loss of what had been my one true friend.

Right then, it felt like Boggs had never existed, and that Nadia had invaded that space.

Nadia.

Until now, right this moment, I hadn’t really thought about what I was about to do. Since being in the hospital, every movement I’d made felt mechanical, and someone else was manipulating the controls.

Wanting to leave was a knee-jerk reaction, and one that failed to recognize others may have a role in what happened, like my mother. I gad completely discounted her because of her association with Benderby, but what if that was no longer the case.

With Alex off the hook, they no longer had to worry about Nadia or what I might say or do, not that there was anything we could do. I felt for Charlene who literally was between a rock and a hard place, having to compromise her principles to uphold justice and her disappointment in her father.

To be honest, his actions came as a surprise, despite the rumors of corruption. It didn’t occur to me that it might have been the lesser of the evils, getting Vince off the streets, nobbling the Cossatinos, and to a lesser extent, using the situation as a bargaining chip with the Benderby’s.

But all of that was moot. Another rumor circulating, according to the newspaper I’d seen at the hotel, was that a third term for the current sheriff was looking unlikely. It was joined by an interview with Benderby on the construction of a new resort on the mall site. Noticeably absent were any reports on Boggs, the treasure, or Cossatino.

I considered briefly whether I should go to the newspaper and tell them the whole story. If he considered it had any element of truth, he’d publish it and be damned, but the thought of how his wife, an Ormiston, would take the news of finding her father, only for the body to disappear, would serve no purpose. If there was a body, I would not hesitate.

But, now, it was enough to make a decision on what I would do next. Pack a bag, tell my mother I was leaving, and call Nadia.

It was impossible to fit a lifetime into a bag. It was fortunate, perhaps, that my situation had not afforded me the luxury of too many possessions, or anything of value.

Even so, what fitted wasn’t much. I wanted to believe it was going to be a new start, but it seemed like I was just running away, that the problems I was running from would just come with me.

And, then, there was Nadia. I was today’s flavor of the month, but would I be in a month, or two?

That thought was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I stepped onto the passage just as my mother closed the door.

“Sam. Where have you been? I’ve been calling, and leaving messages.”

She wasn’t angry, but there was an edge to her tone. I should have at the very least sent a message to say I was OK. It didn’t help my phone battery had died. I’d put it in the recharge, and minutes later continually dinged with missed messages

“I had to get away. Either that or I would have done something I regretted. I thought you’d moved in with Benderby.”

“You thought wrong. This business with Alex. I remember you told me he was responsible for what happened to you and Nadia, and when I overheard him arguing with his father, I realised you were telling me the truth, and neither of them could be trusted. I just told him I needed some time to sort out some issues.”

“You’re not going back?”

“No. What are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing for me here. I’m not going back to the warehouse, nor do I want to be here anymore. Not while Alex is put and about. It’s only a matter of time before he comes after Nadia and I.”

“Then you’re still going to Italy with her.”

“For a while, see how it works out. You should come too, at least for a holiday, think about what you’re going to do. Personally, I think you should also leave, start fresh somewhere else.”

“Maybe you’re…”

We both heard the screeching tires of a car coming to a sudden stop outside, followed by the slamming of doors.

Alex not waiting to clean up his mess?

A sudden pounding on the door revised that assessment, if anyone was here to do us harm they would have kicked the door down.

I moved my mother behind me, and the protection of the door as I opened it.

The sheriff.

“We have a situation,” he said in his most serious tone

Warning us the Benderby’s were coming for us?

When neither of us responded, he added, “Elsie Boggs has the Benderby’s at gunpoint at the Blue Circle, and she will only talk to you.”

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The 2am Rant: If it’s Tuesday, it must be Belgium

And probably would be, if I was away on holidays in Europe, simply because I’ve always wanted to be in Belgium on a Tuesday just so I could use that line.

By the way, it’s out of a movie, but I’m not sure which one. Obviously, it wasn’t that great if I can’t remember it.

But…

Searching for locations for my stories takes a lot of time and effort, using Google Earth and other means, like street view. Finding houses or apartments required a great deal of real estate research, almost to the point of buying a property.

Is there any better way to see the street it’s in, the neighbours, the neighbourhood, and inside the house and gardens? Almost as if you lived there, which of course you do in the story.

In reality, I’m in Canada on the Trans-Canada Highway heading towards Banff, on icy roads in winter. Yes, that’s where we were this year in early January, getting a feel for the place, the roads, the weather, the people, and the places.

Cold, yes. Atmospheric, yes, exciting, double yes. Sometimes research is really fun, well, I don’t call it that, otherwise everyone else will think it was not the birthday treat that it was meant to be.

And was.

My wife’s 65th birthday will be one she certainly will never forget.

So..,

Writing is proceeding better now that I’ve knuckled down. The Trans-Canada experience has been translated into a story attached to a photo and will be posted soon

The treasure hunt has taken shape, now that it’s moved beyond the initial two episodes, and we’re digging in for the long haul. New players and contingency plans. Evil will be lurking behind and under every rock.

And as for the helicopter crash and its aftermath, this morning, a new idea and direction came to me, and this saw frantic scribble notes before I lost it. At least, I was not in the shower this time.

It’s going to have three parts, the first is nearly done, the second, clearly formed in my mind, the third, well, isn’t that always about retribution or revenge?

We shall see.

And the Being Inspired series just got 39 and 40 written, and ready to be published.

What I learned about writing – Have a deadline, you need a plan

Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people who work well with timelines, so the very thought of using something like Microsoft Project to get my writing into some sort of timeframe, with deadlines, seemed, to me, to be a bit extreme.

Say for instance the major deadlines for a writing project are

Write an outline, with as much detail as possible, with an overarching plot, characters, and key points in the novel, and scout for locations
Writing. This could be broken down into chapters, but more practicable would be sectioned, each consisting of a number of chapters.
Editing, planning for one, two or three, or more edits
Proofreading
Send to editor

Clearly if I was going to take this approach, then I would have to allocate hours of the day specifically for writing and doing all those other writer chores in less time, and with fewer distractions.

And, it might work for a more dedicated author.

But…

I did make a new years resolution that I would try and do things differently this year.

Except…

I set a goal to restart editing my next novel on 1st Feb. I thought, setting it so far into the year would be easy.

It would give me the time to clear up all the outstanding, get in the way, distractions, and be free to finally finish it.

But there’s always something else to do, other than what we’re supposed to be doing.

For me it used to be going away, spending long, sleepless hours flying from one side of the world to the other had fuelled my imagination more than I expected and where this used to be the impetus to write more stories that had not happened yet this year.

I have other stories of course, all in various stages of writing, but if only I could focus on one story at a time.

So…

I’ve tried to set some new, more realistic goals to finish playing with these other stories as soon as I can, so come the first of April, I can resume work on the next book to be published.

Or not.

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 243

Day 243 – Mistakes are part of the territory

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Why You Need to Fail to Innovate: Unpacking John Cleese’s Masterclass on Creativity

“If you are not prepared to make a mistake, you’ll never come up with a new idea.” — John Cleese

We’ve all been there staring at a blank screen, a white whiteboard, or a daunting project brief, paralysed by the need to get it right on the first try. In a culture that worships overnight success and flawless execution, making a mistake feels like a professional sin.

But according to legendary comedian, actor, and writer John Cleese—co-founder of Monty Python and creator of Fawlty Towers—this fear of failure is the single greatest enemy of creativity.

If you want to innovate, invent, or simply think outside the box, you have to give yourself permission to be wrong. A lot.

Let’s dive deep into Cleese’s philosophy on creativity, why mistakes are the bedrock of original thought, and how you can cultivate a “mistake-friendly” mindset in your work and life.

The Myth of the “Lightbulb Moment”

When we think of creative breakthroughs, we often imagine a eureka moment—a lightning bolt of inspiration striking a genius out of nowhere.

Cleese, who gave a famous lecture on the mechanics of creativity, argues that this is entirely a myth. Creativity is not a talent you are simply born with; it is a mode of operation. It is a state of mind that you can enter, provided you create the right psychological conditions.

The biggest roadblock to entering this creative state? Anxiety.

When you are stressed, pressured to perform, or terrified of looking foolish, your brain goes into survival mode. You rely on tried-and-true, risk-free solutions. You stick to what you know works. Unfortunately, “what works” is the exact opposite of a new idea.

Why Fear Kills Innovation

To understand why fear is the kryptonite of creativity, we have to look at how the brain works.

The “Closed” Mindset: When you are afraid of making a mistake, your cognitive focus narrows. You become hyper-critical, editing your thoughts as they happen. This is the “inner critic” working overtime.
The Death of Play: Creativity requires playfulness. It requires asking “What if?” without worrying about whether the answer is stupid. Fear replaces play with pressure.
The Comfort Zone: Safe ideas rarely change the world. By definition, a new idea is untested, unproven, and a little bit ridiculous until it isn’t. If you refuse to take the risk of being wrong, you anchor yourself to mediocrity.

As Cleese points out, the most creative people aren’t necessarily smarter than everyone else; they are simply more willing to tolerate ambiguity, confusion, and error.

Redefining the “Mistake” in the Creative Process

Thomas Edison famously said, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”

In the realm of innovation, a mistake is not a moral failing or a sign of incompetence. It is a data point.

Think of the creative process like an archaeological dig. You have to sift through tons of dirt, rubble, and broken pottery before you unearth something valuable. If you refuse to dig up the dirt because you’re afraid it’s worthless, you’ll never find the artifact.

When you accept that your first ideas are likely going to be terrible, a massive weight lifts off your shoulders. In fact, lowering the bar intentionally is one of the best brainstorming hacks available. Give yourself permission to write the worst possible version of an essay, design the ugliest logo, or pitch the most absurd business concept. Once the bad ideas are out on the table, the good ones finally have room to breathe.

How to Apply John Cleese’s Wisdom to Your Work

If you want to harness Cleese’s philosophy and become a more fearless, innovative thinker, try implementing these four strategies:

1. Create a “Tortoise Space” for Play

Cleese emphasises the importance of setting boundaries for creativity. He suggests creating a physical or temporal space where you can retreat from the pressures of the “open” (operational, stressed) mode. Give yourself a dedicated hour where nothing is precious, failure has zero consequences, and you are entirely free to play.

2. Separate Creation from Editing

The cardinal sin of brainstorming is trying to judge your ideas at the same time you are generating them. This is like trying to drive with one foot on the gas and the other on the brakes.

Phase 1: Generate without judgment. Write down every crazy, stupid, or unpolished thought.
Phase 2: Put on your analytical hat and evaluate what’s actually useful.

3. Reframe “Failure” as “Exploration”

Language matters. Instead of telling yourself, “If this doesn’t work, I’m a failure,” try telling yourself, “Let’s see what happens if we try X.” Cultivating scientific curiosity removes the emotional sting of a mistake and turns it into an interesting experiment.

4. Reward the Attempt, Not Just the Outcome

If you manage a team, you cannot demand innovation while punishing missteps. Foster a culture where bold, well-reasoned risks are celebrated—even when they fail. When employees know their jobs aren’t on the line for trying something new, they will surprise you with breakthrough solutions.

Final Thoughts: Embrace the Mess

Innovation is inherently messy. It is a journey of trial, error, backtracking, and accidental discoveries.

John Cleese’s timeless insight reminds us that perfectionism is the enemy of progress. If you wait until you have a guaranteed, foolproof, mistake-proof plan, you will be waiting forever.

So, lower the stakes. Embrace the absurd. Make the mistake. It just might be the starting point of your best idea yet.

What is the best “mistake” that led to a breakthrough in your career or creative projects? Let’s discuss in the comments below!

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Inspiration, Maybe – Volume 2

50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.

They all start with –

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:

And, the story:

Have you ever watched your hopes and dreams simply fly away?

Everything I thought I wanted and needed had just left in an aeroplane, and although I said I was not going to, I came to the airport to see the plane leave. Not the person on it, that would have been far too difficult and emotional, but perhaps it was symbolic, the end of one life and the start of another.

But no matter what I thought or felt, we had both come to the right decision. She needed the opportunity to spread her wings. It was probably not the best idea for her to apply for the job without telling me, but I understood her reasons.

She was in a rut. Though her job was a very good one, it was not as demanding as she had expected, particularly after the last promotion, but with it came resentment from others on her level that she, the youngest of the group, would get the position.

It was something that had been weighing her down for the last three months, and if she noticed it, the late nights, the moodiness, sometimes a flash of temper. I knew she had one; no one could have such red hair and not, but she had always kept it in check.

And then there was us, together, and after seven years, it felt like we were going nowhere. Perhaps that was down to my lack of ambition, and though she never said it, lack of sophistication. It hadn’t been an issue, well, not until her last promotion, and the fact that she had to entertain more, and frankly, I felt like an embarrassment to her.

So, there it was, three days ago, the beginning of the weekend, and we had planned to go away for a few days and take stock. We both acknowledged we needed to talk, but it never seemed the right time.

It was then that she said she had quit her job and found a new one. Starting the following Monday.

Ok, that took me by surprise, not so much that it was something I sort of guessed might happen, but that she would just blurt it out.

I think that right then, at that moment, I could feel her frustration with everything around her.

What surprised her was my reaction. None.

I simply asked who, where, and when.

A world-class newspaper in New York, and she had to be there in a week.

A week.

It was all the time I had left with her.

I remember just shrugging and asking if the planned weekend away was off.

She stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, hands around a cup of coffee she had just poured, and that one thing I remembered was the lone tear that ran down her cheek.

Is that all you want to know?

I did, yes, but we had lost the intimacy we used to have, where she would have told me what was happening, and we would have brainstormed solutions. I might be a cabinet maker, but I still had a brain, was what I overheard her tell a friend once.

There’s not much to ask, I said. You’ve been desperately unhappy and haven’t been able to hide it all that well, you have been under a lot of pressure trying to deal with a group of troglodytes, and you’ve been leaning on Bentley’s shoulder instead of mine, and I get it, he’s got more experience in that place, and the politics that go with it, and is still an ally.

Her immediate superior was instrumental in her getting the position, but unlike some men in his position, he had not taken advantage of the situation like some might. And even if she had made a move, which I doubted, that was not the sort of woman she was, he would have politely declined.

One of the very few happily married men in that organisation, so I heard.

So, she said, you’re not just a pretty face.

Par for the course for a cabinet maker whose university degree is in psychology. It doesn’t take rocket science to see what was happening to you. I just didn’t think it was my place to jump in unless you asked me, and when you didn’t, well, that told me everything I needed to know.

Yes, our relationship had a use-by date, and it was in the next few days.

I was thinking, she said, that you might come with me; you can make cabinets anywhere.

I could, but I think the real problem wasn’t just the job. It was everything around her and going with her that would just be a constant reminder of what had been holding her back. I didn’t want that for her and said so.

Then the only question left was, what do we do now?

Go shopping for suitcases. Bags to pack, and places to go.

Getting on the roller coaster is easy. At the beginning, it’s a slow, easy ride, followed by the slow climb to the top. It’s much like some relationships; they start out easy, they require a little work to get to the next level, followed by the adrenaline rush when it all comes together.

What most people forget is that what comes down must go back up, and life is pretty much a roller coaster with highs and lows.

Our roller coaster had just come out of the final turn, and we were braking so that it would stop at the station.

There was no question of going with her to New York. Yes, I promised I’d come over and visit her, but that was a promise with crossed fingers behind my back. After a few months in the new job, the last thing she’d want was a reminder of what she left behind. New friends, new life.

We packed her bags, threw out everything she didn’t want, a free trip to the op shop with stuff she knew others would like to have, and basically, by the time she was ready to go, there was nothing left of her in the apartment, or anywhere.

Her friends would be seeing her off at the airport, and that’s when I told her I was not coming; that moment, the taxi arrived to take her away forever. I remember standing there, watching the taxi go. It was going to be, and was, as hard as it was to watch the plane leave.

So, there I was, finally staring at the blank sky, around me a dozen other plane spotters, a rather motley crew of plane enthusiasts.

Already that morning, there had been 6 different types of planes departing, and I could hear another winding up its engines for take-off.

People coming, people going.

Maybe I would go to New York in a couple of months, not to see her, but just to see what the attraction was. Or maybe I would drop in, just to see how she was.

As one of my friends told me when I gave him the news, the future is never written in stone, and it’s about time you broadened your horizons.

Perhaps it was.

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Coming soon. Find the above story and 49 others like it in:

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

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

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

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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