The Cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 61

This story is now on the list to be finished so over the new few weeks, expect a new episode every few days.

The reason why new episodes have been sporadic, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Things are about to get complicated…

The Detective Inspector came back twenty minutes later.

“Latest news that I can tell you, is both the bodies belong to older people, we think the owner and one other. They were not in the fire, but some distance from the house.”

“Murdered?”

“People don’t shoot themselves in the back. They were trying to escape.”

The mother and a friend perhaps. Anna or someone else cleaning up? Was she getting ready to leave or gone already?

“No other body?”

“You think someone else was here?”

“Our agent, male, mid-thirties. He was here the last time I saw him.”

“Not so far, but I’ll tell them to widen the search.”

Had O’Connell escaped, or was he with her, and he was not simply a means to an end? The facts, as I knew them, didn’t seem to fit that scenario.

What worried me was that Dobbin hadn’t shown up yet. Could it be he was finally one step behind? I could only hope so. I didn’t want to run into him if and when I found Anna.

If Anna and O’Connell were about to leave, it would be reasonable to assume they’d go home, pack then leave. O’Connell’s flat at the same block where Josephine lived.

When we arrived at the front entrance to the block I had that sensation of being watched. It was possible Dobbin had the place under surveillance and I cursed myself for not checking to see if there was a back entrance.

I tried to see where the surveillance would be, places I would hide, if not in plain sight, but nothing was readily apparent. Of course, it could be the paranoia setting in.

If this was what the spy’s life was like, I was beginning to like it less and less. There were so many lies told by so many people it was impossible to tell what the truth was any more.

But it beat being a clerk in an office any day of the week.

And I didn’t get to work alongside people like Jennifer either.

“You sure we can get into this place. I’m starting to feel exposed out here.” She was shivering, because of the cold.

The temperature had dropped considerably in the last half hour.

I entered the code and the door opened. “Yes.”

I ushered her in and followed, taking a last look outside. Yes. Just caught a glimpse of a man on the corner almost out of sight. He was on his phone, so that would mean we would have minutes rather than enough time to do anything before someone arrived.

Would it be Dobbin, Jan, Monica or Joanne?

The list of interested parties was getting longer.

We almost jogged up the three flights of stairs, then on the landing, I went first, and Jennifer stayed back, gun in hand, ready for anything.

At least I hoped she was.

We were taught how to pick almost any lock in the shortest [possible time. Of course, in practice, when not under pressure, you could do it in seconds.

Now, because of the cold, my hands were slightly numb, and the pressure was mounting so things didn’t quite work the way they should, it took longer. A minute whereas in practice, seconds.

I drew my gun and opened the door carefully.

Nothing but darkness.

We had prearranged that Jennifer would wait outside until I gave her an all-clear, or if I didn’t come back in two minutes she should come in after me.

I went in but left the door ajar. Closed, fumbling to open it in a panic would get me killed. Little details.

Silence.

There didn’t appear to be anyone in the flat. Remembering the layout, I headed towards the passage leading to the bedroom, and about half way across the room, I kicked my foot into something.

A body?

I went back and switched on the light.

A body indeed.

O’Connell.

Dead, a bullet to the head.

…

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 56

Day 56 – Writing history into a story

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Weaving History Into Fiction: How to Make the Past Pulse Beneath Your Characters—Without Smothering Them

When you set a story in a richly textured era—whether it’s the fever‑dream of 1930s Shanghai, the thunderous streets of Revolutionary Paris, or the quiet courtyard of a 12th‑century Japanese monastery—your biggest temptation is to let the history speak for itself. You’ll load the manuscript with dates, treaties, and cultural minutiae, hoping readers will “feel” the time period.

But history isn’t a backdrop; it’s a living pressure that shapes your characters’ desires, fears, and choices. The real craft lies in embedding cultural and historical detail so tightly that it becomes invisible—until it isn’t. In other words, the world should breathe through the characters, not the other way around.

Below is a step‑by‑step guide (with concrete examples) for turning dense cultural and historical material into narrative gold, while deciding whether your protagonists should be caught up in events larger than themselves or forge their own path within those currents.

1. Start With the Story, Not the History

Why This Matters

If you begin by asking “What happened in 1918?” you risk building a museum exhibit instead of a novel. The story should dictate which historical facts matter. Think of history as a filter that clarifies the stakes for your characters, not as a checklist you must tick off.

How to Apply It

Step	Action	Example
Identify Core Conflict	Pinpoint the emotional engine of your plot (e.g., love versus duty).	A young French nurse torn between caring for wounded soldiers and protecting her brother who is a deserter.
Map Historical Touchpoints	List only the events or cultural norms that directly amplify that conflict.	The 1918 influenza pandemic, the French government’s award of the Croix de Guerre, the moral stigma of desertion.
Prune the Rest	Anything that doesn’t raise the stakes for your protagonists gets trimmed or relegated to footnotes.	Detailed statistics on trench lengths—interesting, but not essential here.

Result: Your narrative is anchored by the period, yet every historical beat has a purpose.

2. Use “Cultural DNA” Instead of “Historical Exposition”

The Concept

Every era has a cultural DNA—the small, repeatable practices, idioms, and sensory details that signal its identity. Think of it as the ambient music that plays while your characters act.

Techniques

Technique	Description	Mini‑Scene Sample
Sensory Anchors	Deploy smell, taste, sound, texture.	The coppery tang of soot clung to her hair as she walked the narrow alleys of Edo, where the distant clack of wooden geta echoed like a metronome.
Idiomatic Dialogue	Let characters speak in period‑appropriate turns of phrase, but keep it understandable.	“Your fate is as fixed as the moon’s cycle,” the samurai whispered, his voice a low hum in the tea house.
Ritualistic Moments	Show everyday rites (tea ceremonies, market bargaining, prayer) that reveal social hierarchies.	At dusk, the village gathered around the torii, the flicker of lanterns turning each face into a mask of reverence.
Object‑Level World‑Building	Focus on a single artifact (a coin, a newspaper headline, a piece of clothing) that carries symbolic weight.	He tucked the crumpled “Workers of the World, Unite!” flyer into his coat—an act that could cost him his life.

These anchors are dense in cultural info but light on exposition. Readers feel the era without being lectured.

3. Make History a Force That Presses on Characters, Not a Decorative Set

The “Pressure” Model

Think of your historical setting as a pressure cooker: the heat is the broader sociopolitical climate; the steam is the cultural expectations; the timer is the looming events (war, revolution, plague). Your characters must respond—or they’ll be cooked.

Illustrative Example

Setting: The 1848 Revolutions in the German states.
Character: Lina, a 22‑year‑old textile apprentice.

Pressure	Lina’s Response
Economic Crisis – factories cut wages.	She secretly joins a workers’ reading circle, learning socialist ideas.
Political Upheaval – barricades rise in Frankfurt.	She hides a wounded revolutionary in the attic of her boarding house, risking her own safety.
Social Norms – women expected to marry quietly.	She defies her family’s plan for an arranged marriage, choosing to volunteer as a nurse for the insurgents.

Every historical force becomes a choice point for Lina. The reader sees the why behind her actions, and the period becomes inseparable from her arc.

4. Decide: Are Your Characters Caught Up in Events Above Themselves, or Do They Shape Those Events?

Both approaches are valid; the decision hinges on theme, tone, and narrative scope.

A. Characters Caught Up (Observer‑Activist)

When It Works	Benefits
Epic Scope – you want to depict a monumental event (e.g., the fall of Constantinople).	The story feels grand, and the historical moment takes center stage.
Moral Exploration – you’re examining how ordinary people are swept by forces beyond control.	Highlights human vulnerability, tragedy, and resilience.
Limited Research Time – you can lean on documented events to drive plot.	Less need for speculative “what‑if” world‑building.

Tips for Execution

Anchor the protagonist in a personal micro‑goal that the macro‑event threatens. (e.g., a baker trying to protect his shop during the Blitz.)
Let history “win” at least once. Show that the characters cannot always bend the tide. This adds realism and emotional stakes.
Use secondary characters as lenses into the larger event, giving the protagonist a network of perspectives.

B. Characters Shaping Events (Active Agents)

When It Works	Benefits
Alternative History / “What‑If” – you want to ask “What if X happened differently?”	Creative freedom, fresh insight into known eras.
Intimate Themes – you’re exploring agency, destiny, or the power of ideas.	Amplifies the protagonist’s inner journey.
Modern Resonance – you aim to draw parallels between past struggles and today’s movements.	Readers see direct relevance, fostering empathy.

Tips for Execution

Ground the impact: Even if your protagonist sparks change, it should feel plausible within the era’s constraints. Show the incremental steps—not just a single heroic act.
Layer the consequences: Every action ripples. Show both intended and unintended effects, reflecting the chaotic nature of history.
Blend fact and speculation: Use a “footnote” style—mention real events but insert a plausible divergence tied to your character’s influence.

Hybrid Approach: The “Tide‑Rider”

Most compelling stories sit somewhere in the middle: characters navigate, react, and occasionally redirect the current. Think of The Book Thief—Liesel can’t stop the war, but she subtly resists through storytelling. This balance lets you honour the period’s magnitude while keeping your protagonist essential to the narrative.

5. Research Strategies That Keep the Story Moving

The “15‑Minute Rule” – Spend at most 15 minutes on any single research session before you write. Capture only the fact(s) you need, then close the tab. This prevents analysis paralysis.
Primary Source Immersion – Read letters, diaries, newspaper clippings as if they were dialogue. Pull phrasing directly into your characters’ speech (with necessary smoothing). It gives authenticity without the need for a history lecture.
Timeline Mapping – Create a two‑column timeline: on the left, list historical milestones; on the right, note character beats that intersect. This visual helps you spot where the pressure points should be.
Cultural Cheat Sheet – Compile a one‑page reference with:
- Common greetings & farewells
Typical clothing for each class
- Food staples and taboos
Keep it handy while drafting; you’ll instinctively pepper scenes with accurate detail.

6. Sample Mini‑Story: A Glimpse of Technique in Action

Year: 1825, the Bengal Presidency, British India
Historical Pressure: The Charanam reform movement, a wave of religious revival that challenges British land taxes.
Protagonist: Meera, a 19‑year‑old weaver’s daughter.

The evening monsoon hammered the tin roofs of Calcutta, each drop a drumbeat against the wooden shutters. Meera slipped a sari—its cotton threads still damp from the river—over her shoulder and slipped into the narrow alley behind the market. The smell of fried puri mingled with the acrid perfume of gunpowder from the nearby British barracks.

She had learned the gita verses by heart, but tonight she recited them in secret, beneath the flickering oil‑lamp of the Bhandara—a makeshift shrine where reformers whispered of “Swadeshi” and “Nirvana” in equal measure.

As the moon rose, a British clerk—Mr. Hawthorne—strolled past, his boots clacking on the stone. He paused, eyes drawn to the bhajan humming from the doorway. “You, girl,” he called, “your family owes three rupees in tax arrears.”

Meera’s heart hammered louder than the rain. She could flee, surrender the loom, or stay—and join the secret meeting that night, where a silk trader named Jagan whispered a plan to boycott British cloth. The decision would not stop the empire, but it could thicken the threads of resistance.

She lifted her chin, the monsoon drumming a rhythm of defiance, and said, “We will pay, sir. And we will weave a future that even your taxes cannot unravel.”

What’s happening?

Cultural DNA: the weaving profession, the sari, the monsoon, the bhajan singing.
Historical Pressure: British tax policies and the early Swadeshi movement.
Character Agency: Meera is caught up (the tax notice) but also shapes events (joining a boycott).
Balance: The scene feels immersive without a history lecture; the stakes feel personal and era‑wide.

7. Checklist: Does Your Draft Successfully Fuse History & Narrative?

	Question
	Do the historical facts directly raise the protagonist’s stakes?
	Are cultural details presented through senses, dialogue, and objects, not exposition?
	Is there a clear sense of pressure—political, economic, social—pushing on the characters?
	Do the characters either react to or subtly influence those pressures?
	Is the prose “period‑rich” but still readable for a modern audience?
	Have you trimmed any historical information that does not serve the plot or character?
	Is there a balance between macro‑events and micro‑personal moments?

If you can answer “yes” to at least five of these, you’re on the right track.

8. Final Thoughts: Let the Past Be a Living Companion, Not a Static Museum

When you master the art of weaving dense cultural and historical material into the fabric of your story, you give readers more than a setting—you give them a living companion that walks, talks, and breathes alongside your characters. Whether your protagonists are swept up in the tides of a revolution or quietly tug at the ropes that steer those tides, the key is to make the history feel inevitable yet permeable.

Remember:

Start with story, then invite history in.
Show, don’t tell: use sensory and ritual anchors.
Make the era a pressure that shapes choice.
Decide the level of agency you want and stay consistent.
Research efficiently, then write relentlessly.

When you can pull these threads together, your narrative won’t just take place in a bygone age—it will be that age, alive in every heartbeat of your characters.

Happy writing, and may your stories echo through the corridors of time.

What I learned about writing – That old enemy – Editing

There’s going to be an analogy – starting with jagged and unwieldy rocks, and after chipping away at those rough edges, what remains is a smooth, enjoyable object.

Ah, if only it were that easy….

I’m sure most of us would like to think that the first time we write the pages, it’s perfect. Why would I need to go over it again?

I might have thought that a long time ago, but back in those days when I thought I could walk on water, a friend of mine picked up a few pages of one of my manuscripts and offered to read it.

I didn;t like the idea, but he insisted.

Well, three pages and about 11 mistakes, punctuation, grammatical issues, sentence structure, and spelling. How could it miss spelling when I had the spell checker on? And what grammatical errors? I ran the grammar checker over it.

I think I realised by then that no man-made assistant tool was going to be 100% perfect, and I would have to read and edit it myself properly. Which I did, over 535 pages, and took nearly a year, and at times a wealth of frustration.

I found plot holes, one place where a character’s name had completely changed halfway through the story, and inconsistencies in the factual parts of the story.

Fact checkers? Where are you?

It caused me to make a summary of each chapter with the plot points, a chart that followed the characters and where they were participating, a timeline to make sure things didn’t happen out of order, and a family tree to get the characters in their correct places in the family hierarchy.

In other words, I should have planned it from the start!

Well, maybe.

I think in the end it was easier just to write the story than do all the planning from what I had. I found that I might not have been able to produce the story I had if I’d tried to think of everything in the beginning.

Now, I follow that, after spending a little time getting the story off to a good start, developing where it might go, and with those ideas in mind, let it run its course. And the characters do end up in their trees and timelines, as I go, so that going back and fixing problems is not so hard.

Of course, as always, I’m open to new ideas, extensions or improvements on tried and tested methodology, and any ideas you might have, I’m always open.

The first case of PI Walthenson – “A Case of Working With the Jones Brothers”

This case has everything, red herrings, jealous brothers, femme fatales, and at the heart of it all, greed.

See below for an excerpt from the book…

Coming soon!

PIWalthJones1

An excerpt from the book:

When Harry took the time to consider his position, a rather uncomfortable position at that, he concluded that he was somehow involved in another case that meant very little to him.

Not that it wasn’t important in some way he was yet to determine, it was just that his curiosity had got the better of him, and it had led to this: sitting in a chair, securely bound, waiting for someone one of his captors had called Doug.

It was not the name that worried him so much, it was the evil laugh that had come after the name was spoken.

Doug what? Doug the ‘destroyer’, Doug the ‘dangerous’, Doug the ‘deadly’; there was any number of sinister connotations, and perhaps that was the point of the laugh, to make it more frightening than it was.

But there was no doubt about one thing in his mind right then: he’d made a mistake. A very big. and costly, mistake. Just how big the cost, no doubt he would soon find out.

His mother, and his grandmother, the wisest person he had ever known, had once told him never to eavesdrop.

At the time he couldn’t help himself and instead of minding his own business, listening to a one-sided conversation which ended with a time and a place. The very nature of the person receiving the call was, at the very least, sinister, and, because of the cryptic conversation, there appeared to be, or at least to Harry, criminal activity involved.

For several days he had wrestled with the thought of whether he should go. Stay on the fringe, keep out of sight, observe and report to the police if it was a crime. Instead, he had willingly gone down the rabbit hole.

Now, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, several heat lamps hanging over his head, he was perspiring, and if perspiration could be used as a measure of fear, then Harry’s fear was at the highest level.

Another runnel of sweat rolled into his left eye, and, having his hands tied, literally, it made it impossible to clear it. The burning sensation momentarily took his mind off his predicament. He cursed and then shook his head trying to prevent a re-occurrence. It was to no avail.

Let the stinging sensation be a reminder of what was right and what was wrong.

It was obvious that it was the right place and the right time, but in considering his current perilous situation, it definitely was the wrong place to be, at the worst possible time.

It was meant to be his escape, an escape from the generations of lawyers, what were to Harry, dry, dusty men who had been in business since George Washington said to the first Walthenson to step foot on American soil, ‘Why don’t you become a lawyer?” when asked what he could do for the great man.

Or so it was handed down as lore, though Harry didn’t think Washington meant it literally, the Walthenson’s, then as now, were not shy of taking advice.

Except, of course, when it came to Harry.

He was, Harry’s father was prone to saying, the exception to every rule. Harry guessed his father was referring to the fact his son wanted to be a Private Detective rather than a dry, dusty lawyer. Just the clothes were enough to turn Harry off the profession.

So, with a little of the money Harry inherited from one of his aunts, he leased an office in Gramercy Park and had it renovated to look like the Sam Spade detective agency, you know the one, Spade and Archer, and The Maltese Falcon.

There’s a movie and a book by Dashiell Hammett if you’re interested.

So, there it was, painted on the opaque glass inset of the front door, ‘Harold Walthenson, Private Detective’.

There was enough money to hire an assistant, and it took a week before the right person came along, or, more to the point, didn’t just see his business plan as something sinister. Ellen, a tall cool woman in a long black dress, or so the words of a song in his head told him, fitted in perfectly.

She’d seen the movie, but she said with a grin, Harry was no Humphrey Bogart.

Of course not, he said, he didn’t smoke.

Three months on the job, and it had been a few calls, no ‘real’ cases, nothing but missing animals, and other miscellaneous items. What he really wanted was a missing person. Or perhaps a beguiling, sophisticated woman who was as deadly as she was charming, looking for an errant husband, perhaps one that she had already ‘dispatched’.

Or for a tall, dark and handsome foreigner who spoke in riddles and in heavily accented English, a spy, or perhaps an assassin, in town to take out the mayor. The man was such an imbecile Harry had considered doing it himself.

Now, in a back room of a disused warehouse, that wishful thinking might be just about to come to a very abrupt end, with none of the romanticized trappings of the business befalling him. No beguiling women, no sinister criminals, no stupid policemen.

Just a nasty little man whose only concern was how quickly or how slowly Harry’s end was going to be.

…

‘Sunday in New York’ – A beta reader’s view

I’m not a fan of romance novels but …

There was something about this one that resonated with me.

This is a novel about a world generally ruled by perception, and how people perceive what they see, what they are told, and what they want to believe.

I’ve been guilty of it myself, as I’m sure we all have at one time or another.

For the main characters, Harry and Alison, other issues are driving their relationship.

For Alison, it is a loss of self-worth through losing her job and from losing her mother and, in a sense, her sister.

For Harry, it is the fact that he has a beautiful and desirable wife, his belief that she is the object of other men’s desires, and, in particular, his immediate superior’s.

Between observation, the less-than-honest motives of his friends, a lot of jumping to conclusions based on very little fact, and you have the basis of one very interesting story.

When it all comes to a head, Alison finds herself in a desperate situation, and she realises only the truth will save their marriage.

But is it all the truth?

What would we do in similar circumstances?

Rarely does a book have me so enthralled that I could not put it down until I knew the result. They might be considered two people who should have known better, but as is often the case, they had to get past what they both thought was the truth.

And the moral of this story, if it could be said there is one, is that nothing is ever what it seems.

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Available on Amazon here: amzn.to/2H7ALs8

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365 Days of writing, 2026 – 56

Day 56 – Writing history into a story

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Weaving History Into Fiction: How to Make the Past Pulse Beneath Your Characters—Without Smothering Them