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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… and it would have remained buried.

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

Even if it almost costs him his life.  Again.

Writing a book in 365 days – 283

Day 283

Should I use a pseudonym

Beyond the Secret Agent: 7 Strategic Reasons to Use a Pseudonym

For centuries, the pseudonym—or nom de plume—has occupied a curious space between secrecy and strategy. We often associate pen names with historical figures hiding from censure, or writers protecting their reputation while exploring controversial themes.

But the role of the adopted name in the modern creative world is far more complex than simple disguise. Whether you are a writer, an artist, a musician, or a content creator, a pseudonym can be one of the most powerful strategic tools in your professional arsenal.

If you’ve ever considered stepping out from behind your birth name, here are seven compelling reasons why embracing a strategic alter ego might be the right move for your career.


1. Safety, Security, and Professional Separation

This is often the most critical and practical reason. If your creative work involves sensitive topics, controversial political commentary, or highly personal memoirs that might expose others, a pseudonym is an essential shield.

Practical Applications:

  • Protecting Your Day Job: If your employer (especially in fields like education, medicine, or government) might disapprove of your side hustle—say, writing steamy romance or true crime—a pseudonym provides necessary separation.
  • Personal Privacy: Limiting the access strangers have to your private life, family history, and home address is crucial in the digital age, especially when dealing with online criticism or harassment.
  • Sensitive Content: When tackling subjects that invite extreme reactions (politics, social justice, whistleblowing), a pen name allows the message to be heard without putting the messenger at personal risk.

2. Establishing a Clear Genre Brand

Imagine an author named Beatrice Bell. Beatrice writes heartwarming children’s books and, under her birth name, publishes historical non-fiction about the French Revolution. This creates a massive problem for readers and marketers.

Readers of historical non-fiction are unlikely to pick up a book advertised next to a picture of a cuddly bunny, and vice versa.

A pseudonym allows you to compartmentalize your audience. Many prolific authors use multiple names to dominate separate niches:

  • Name A: For literary fiction.
  • Name B: For fast-paced thrillers.
  • Name C: For specialized technical guides.

This ensures your marketing efforts are targeted and your readers know exactly what to expect when they pick up your book.

3. Escaping Bias and Preconception

Historically, women often adopted male pseudonyms (like George Eliot or George Sand) to ensure their work was taken seriously in a male-dominated literary establishment. While the landscape has shifted, bias remains.

A strategically chosen pseudonym can help the work stand on its own merits, regardless of the creator’s background:

  • Gender Neutrality: Using initials (J.K. Rowling, P.D. James) or an androgynous name can allow a writer to appeal to the widest possible audience, particularly in genres where gender bias persists (like military sci-fi or hardboiled crime).
  • Combating Ageism: For creators who are very young or very old, a pseudonym can neutralize preconceptions about their experience level.
  • Neutralizing Geographic Bias: If your real name suggests a specific cultural background that might pigeonhole your work in certain markets, a neutral name can broaden your appeal.

4. Addressing a Difficult or Common Name

A good pseudonym is memorable, easy to pronounce, and unique. If your birth name poses a challenge, a pen name can simplify your entire career:

  • Too Hard to Spell/Pronounce: If readers struggle to pronounce your name, they won’t remember or recommend it easily. Creating a simpler, phonetically clean name is smart branding.
  • Too Common: Being “John Smith” in a crowded marketplace can make it impossible for readers or search engines to find your specific work. A unique pseudonym makes you discoverable.
  • Inappropriate Connotations: Sometimes a name simply doesn’t fit the brand. If you write dark, gothic fantasy, a name like “Sunny Meadows” sends the wrong signal.

5. Starting Fresh After a Misstep

The internet doesn’t forget. If you launched a creative endeavor that didn’t go well, received significant critical backlash, or involved content you no longer stand by, moving forward under a new name provides a clean slate.

A fresh identity allows you to:

  • Separate from Past Failures: Shed the baggage of a debut novel that flopped or a previous artistic identity that didn’t resonate.
  • Signal a Major Change: If you are transitioning from one highly specific field to an entirely different one (e.g., from journalism to poetry), a new name signals to the market that this is a distinct, new phase of your career.

6. Managing Prolific Output (The Publishing Powerhouse)

Certain genres, particularly romance, thrillers, and highly niche non-fiction, require writers to publish multiple works per year to maintain engagement.

A single author can only release so many books before they flood the market and confuse retailers. Publishing under multiple pseudonyms allows the author to maintain high productivity without undermining their own sales.

This strategy is often employed by ghostwriters or writers working under specific contractual obligations who need to publish more than their primary contract allows.

7. Creating an Intentional Persona or Mythology

The pseudonym isn’t always about hiding; sometimes, it’s about performing.

Authors like Lemony Snicket (Daniel Handler) or street artists like Banksy don’t just use a name; they use a persona that adds texture and intrigue to their work.

  • Enhanced Mysteriousness: An intentionally obscure or unusual name can generate interest and fuel discussion around the identity of the creator.
  • Building a Character: The pen name acts as a character in itself—a brand ambassador who may have a slightly different voice or temperament than the person behind the keyboard. This allows the creator to take creative risks that they might be too inhibited to take under their own name.

The Power is in the Choice

Choosing a pseudonym is not an exercise in subterfuge; it is a profound act of creative self-determination. It gives you the power to define your brand, manage your privacy, and ensure your creative work is judged precisely how you intend it to be.

Whether you seek protection, separation, or simply a name that sounds better on the bestseller list, the strategic use of a pseudonym can be the key to unlocking the next level of your professional journey.


Do you work under a pseudonym? What was the primary reason you decided to adopt an alter ego? Share your story in the comments below!

Writing a book in 365 days – 282

Day 282

Why can’t we just stop editing?

The Endless Edit: Why We Keep Redrawing the Line in the Sand

And 10 Practical Ways to Tell Ourselves, “It’s Done.”


1. The Paradox of Perfection

If you’ve ever stared at a blank canvas, a half‑finished manuscript, or a spreadsheet teeming with conditional formatting, you know the feeling: the line you thought was final is suddenly a faint suggestion, begging for another tweak.

In our hyper‑connected world, the “edit forever” mindset has become almost reflexive. It’s not just a habit—it’s a cultural artifact shaped by three forces:

ForceHow It Fuels the Edit Loop
TechnologyUnlimited “undo,” auto‑save, and real‑time collaboration make every change feel reversible and safe, so we never feel pressured to settle.
PerfectionismThe myth that “perfect” equals “valuable” convinces us that any flaw will invalidate the whole piece.
Feedback FloodSocial media, peer reviews, and analytics serve up a constant stream of opinions, each of which can be interpreted as a reason to revise.

When these forces converge, we end up continuously re‑drawing the line in the sand, never quite willing to say, “That’s it.”


2. The Cost of Perpetual Editing

CostReal‑World Example
Time DrainA marketing copywriter spends 12 hours polishing a 300‑word email that could have been sent in 2.
Creative BurnoutA designer abandons a brand identity after 30 iterations, losing the original spark that made it compelling.
Decision FatigueA product manager flips between feature sets, delaying launch and confusing the team.
Opportunity LossA researcher keeps adding “future work” sections, never publishing and never gaining citations.

The hidden toll isn’t just lost hours—it’s the erosion of confidence and the stifling of momentum.


3. How Do We Break the Cycle?

Below are 10 concrete strategies that move you from “always editing” to “confidently done.” Each one is paired with a quick implementation tip so you can start using it today.

#StrategyWhy It WorksQuick Implementation
1Set a hard deadline (not a “soft” one)A deadline creates a psychological “stop” signal that overrides perfectionist impulses.Put the due date on a visible wall calendar and block the final hour for “final review only.”
2Define Done before you startWhen “done” is a concrete checklist, the project has a clear finish line.Write a 3‑item “Definition of Done” (e.g., “All headings formatted, 2‑round peer review completed, file exported to PDF”).
3Apply the 80/20 Rule80 % of impact comes from 20 % of effort; the remaining 20 % yields diminishing returns.After the first major revision, ask: “What 20 % of the remaining changes will give 80 % of the benefit?”
4Limit the number of revision cyclesA fixed ceiling forces you to prioritize the most critical changes.Decide on “max 3 full passes”—after the third, the work is locked.
5Use a “Freeze” checkpointTemporarily lock the file so you can view it without the temptation to edit.On the final day, rename the file “FINAL_2025-10-22” and open only the read‑only copy.
6Get a single external auditOne fresh set of eyes can surface the most important blind spots, after which further changes are often unnecessary.Invite a colleague to do a 5‑minute critique focused on the “Definition of Done” checklist.
7Embrace “Good Enough” as a virtueShifting language from “perfect” to “good enough” reduces anxiety and reframes completion as a win.Add a sticky note on your workspace: “Good enough wins the day.”
8Celebrate the finish lineCelebration creates a positive reinforcement loop that the brain associates with ending a task.Schedule a 10‑minute “launch toast”—a coffee break, a quick walk, or a team shout‑out.
9Separate creation from evaluationEditing while you create clouds judgment; separating phases restores flow.Use a timer: 25 min “create,” then 5 min “no edit—just observe.”
10Practice “Version Mortality”Accept that every version will die; the next one will replace it.After you ship, archive the file with a note: “Version X – retired 2025-10-22.”

4. A Mini‑Exercise: The “One‑Pass” Challenge

  1. Pick a small project (a blog post, a slide deck, a short code snippet).
  2. Write a “Definition of Done” with exactly three bullet points.
  3. Set a timer for 45 minutes and work without opening any editing tools or feedback channels.
  4. When the timer ends, stop—no matter how incomplete it feels.
  5. Do one final, 5‑minute review against your checklist. If it meets all three points, hit “publish.”

Result: You’ll experience how much you can accomplish when you deliberately stop editing. Most people are shocked to find the output already valuable.


5. When “Done” Isn’t a Destination, It’s a Habit

The goal isn’t to become a sloppy producer; it’s to become a deliberate one. By embedding the practices above into your daily workflow, you turn “finished” from a rare event into a reliable habit.

Takeaway: The compulsion to edit forever is a symptom of abundant tools, cultural perfectionism, and endless feedback. The antidote is structure: clear deadlines, explicit “done” criteria, and a finite number of revisions. When you give yourself permission to close a project, you free mental bandwidth for the next creative spark.


6. Closing Thought

Imagine a shoreline where the tide recedes just enough to reveal a clean, straight line in the sand—a line that says, “We built this, and we’re proud of it.” That line isn’t a mistake; it’s a statement.

The next time you feel the urge to keep polishing, ask yourself:

“Am I adding value, or am I just keeping the tide from coming in?”

If the answer leans toward the latter, it’s time to step back, declare it done, and let the next wave of ideas wash onto the beach.

Happy creating—and happy finishing!


Feel free to share your own “done” rituals in the comments. Let’s build a community that celebrates completion as much as it does creation.

Searching for locations: The Pagoda Forest, near Zhengzhou City, Henan Province, China

The pagoda forest

After another exhausting walk, by now the heat was beginning to take its toll on everyone, we arrived at the pagoda forest.

A little history first:

The pagoda forest is located west of the Shaolin Temple and the foot of a hill.  As the largest pagoda forest in China, it covers approximately 20,000 square meters and has about 230 pagodas build from the Tang Dynasty (618-907) to the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).

Each pagoda is the tomb of an eminent monk from the Shaolin Temple.  Graceful and exquisite, they belong to different eras and constructed in different styles.  The first pagoda was thought to be built in 791.

It is now a world heritage site.

No, it’s not a forest with trees it’s a collection of over 200 pagodas, each a tribute to a head monk at the temple and it goes back a long time.  The tribute can have one, three, five, or a maximum of seven layers.  The ashes of the individual are buried under the base of the pagoda.

The size, height, and story of the pagoda indicate its accomplishments, prestige, merits, and virtues. Each pagoda was carved with the exact date of construction and brief inscriptions and has its own style with various shapes such as a polygonal, cylindrical, vase, conical and monolithic.

This is one of the more recently constructed pagodas

There are pagodas for eminent foreign monks also in the forest.

From there we get a ride back on the back of a large electric wagon

to the front entrance courtyard where drinks and ice creams can be bought, and a visit to the all-important happy place.

Then it’s back to the hotel.

Writing a book in 365 days – 282

Day 282

Why can’t we just stop editing?

The Endless Edit: Why We Keep Redrawing the Line in the Sand

And 10 Practical Ways to Tell Ourselves, “It’s Done.”


1. The Paradox of Perfection

If you’ve ever stared at a blank canvas, a half‑finished manuscript, or a spreadsheet teeming with conditional formatting, you know the feeling: the line you thought was final is suddenly a faint suggestion, begging for another tweak.

In our hyper‑connected world, the “edit forever” mindset has become almost reflexive. It’s not just a habit—it’s a cultural artifact shaped by three forces:

ForceHow It Fuels the Edit Loop
TechnologyUnlimited “undo,” auto‑save, and real‑time collaboration make every change feel reversible and safe, so we never feel pressured to settle.
PerfectionismThe myth that “perfect” equals “valuable” convinces us that any flaw will invalidate the whole piece.
Feedback FloodSocial media, peer reviews, and analytics serve up a constant stream of opinions, each of which can be interpreted as a reason to revise.

When these forces converge, we end up continuously re‑drawing the line in the sand, never quite willing to say, “That’s it.”


2. The Cost of Perpetual Editing

CostReal‑World Example
Time DrainA marketing copywriter spends 12 hours polishing a 300‑word email that could have been sent in 2.
Creative BurnoutA designer abandons a brand identity after 30 iterations, losing the original spark that made it compelling.
Decision FatigueA product manager flips between feature sets, delaying launch and confusing the team.
Opportunity LossA researcher keeps adding “future work” sections, never publishing and never gaining citations.

The hidden toll isn’t just lost hours—it’s the erosion of confidence and the stifling of momentum.


3. How Do We Break the Cycle?

Below are 10 concrete strategies that move you from “always editing” to “confidently done.” Each one is paired with a quick implementation tip so you can start using it today.

#StrategyWhy It WorksQuick Implementation
1Set a hard deadline (not a “soft” one)A deadline creates a psychological “stop” signal that overrides perfectionist impulses.Put the due date on a visible wall calendar and block the final hour for “final review only.”
2Define Done before you startWhen “done” is a concrete checklist, the project has a clear finish line.Write a 3‑item “Definition of Done” (e.g., “All headings formatted, 2‑round peer review completed, file exported to PDF”).
3Apply the 80/20 Rule80 % of impact comes from 20 % of effort; the remaining 20 % yields diminishing returns.After the first major revision, ask: “What 20 % of the remaining changes will give 80 % of the benefit?”
4Limit the number of revision cyclesA fixed ceiling forces you to prioritize the most critical changes.Decide on “max 3 full passes”—after the third, the work is locked.
5Use a “Freeze” checkpointTemporarily lock the file so you can view it without the temptation to edit.On the final day, rename the file “FINAL_2025-10-22” and open only the read‑only copy.
6Get a single external auditOne fresh set of eyes can surface the most important blind spots, after which further changes are often unnecessary.Invite a colleague to do a 5‑minute critique focused on the “Definition of Done” checklist.
7Embrace “Good Enough” as a virtueShifting language from “perfect” to “good enough” reduces anxiety and reframes completion as a win.Add a sticky note on your workspace: “Good enough wins the day.”
8Celebrate the finish lineCelebration creates a positive reinforcement loop that the brain associates with ending a task.Schedule a 10‑minute “launch toast”—a coffee break, a quick walk, or a team shout‑out.
9Separate creation from evaluationEditing while you create clouds judgment; separating phases restores flow.Use a timer: 25 min “create,” then 5 min “no edit—just observe.”
10Practice “Version Mortality”Accept that every version will die; the next one will replace it.After you ship, archive the file with a note: “Version X – retired 2025-10-22.”

4. A Mini‑Exercise: The “One‑Pass” Challenge

  1. Pick a small project (a blog post, a slide deck, a short code snippet).
  2. Write a “Definition of Done” with exactly three bullet points.
  3. Set a timer for 45 minutes and work without opening any editing tools or feedback channels.
  4. When the timer ends, stop—no matter how incomplete it feels.
  5. Do one final, 5‑minute review against your checklist. If it meets all three points, hit “publish.”

Result: You’ll experience how much you can accomplish when you deliberately stop editing. Most people are shocked to find the output already valuable.


5. When “Done” Isn’t a Destination, It’s a Habit

The goal isn’t to become a sloppy producer; it’s to become a deliberate one. By embedding the practices above into your daily workflow, you turn “finished” from a rare event into a reliable habit.

Takeaway: The compulsion to edit forever is a symptom of abundant tools, cultural perfectionism, and endless feedback. The antidote is structure: clear deadlines, explicit “done” criteria, and a finite number of revisions. When you give yourself permission to close a project, you free mental bandwidth for the next creative spark.


6. Closing Thought

Imagine a shoreline where the tide recedes just enough to reveal a clean, straight line in the sand—a line that says, “We built this, and we’re proud of it.” That line isn’t a mistake; it’s a statement.

The next time you feel the urge to keep polishing, ask yourself:

“Am I adding value, or am I just keeping the tide from coming in?”

If the answer leans toward the latter, it’s time to step back, declare it done, and let the next wave of ideas wash onto the beach.

Happy creating—and happy finishing!


Feel free to share your own “done” rituals in the comments. Let’s build a community that celebrates completion as much as it does creation.

Writing a book in 365 days – 281

Day 281

Dense conspiracies and zany plotting

Spinning Shadows into Sparkle: The Zany Art of Conspiracy Comedy

Isn’t it fascinating how our minds gravitate towards patterns in the chaos? How the whispered “what if” can quickly blossom into a sprawling, intricate web of secret societies, hidden agendas, and dark forces pulling the strings? The appeal of a good conspiracy is undeniable, tapping into our deepest fears and our innate desire for meaning, even if that meaning points to malevolent forces.

But what if those shadowy figures wear mismatched socks? What if their nefarious plot hinges on the strategic deployment of artisanal pickles? What if the hero unearthing the truth is less a grizzled detective and more a bewildered barista?

This, my friends, is the magical alchemy we’re talking about: taking the genuine chill of darkness and paranoia, threading a dense tapestry of conspiracy, and then weaving through it with a generous dose of tongue-in-cheek humour and a plot so zany it practically winks at you. It’s a delicate dance, a narrative tightrope walk, but when executed well, it creates some of the most memorable and beloved stories out there.

So, how do we try to achieve this glorious narrative concoction?


1. Acknowledging the Shadow: The Foundation of Fear

You can’t have effective satire without a genuine understanding of what you’re satirizing. The first step in threading dense conspiracies with humour is to start with the darkness. The paranoia needs to feel real, at least initially. The stakes should, at some level, be genuinely high.

  • How we do it: We establish an underlying threat that feels substantial. The shadowy organisation is powerful. Their goals are unsettling. Without that genuine undercurrent of dread, the humour lands flat. It’s the contrast with this genuine darkness that makes the absurdity sing. Imagine a secret society plotting global domination – that’s the serious core.

2. The Intricate Web: Conspiracies You Can (Almost) Believe

A “dense conspiracy” isn’t just a list of random bad things happening. It’s an interconnected narrative, a puzzle where every piece seems to fit, even if the grand picture is utterly bonkers.

  • How we do it: We layer the clues, introduce a cast of characters with mysterious motives, and connect the dots between the utterly mundane and the outrageously sinister. Perhaps a global drought is linked to a mega-corp’s new line of flavored seltzer. Maybe the disappearance of garden gnomes is a precursor to an alien invasion. The logic, however flawed, must be internally consistent within its own absurd framework. The more intricate the web, the more satisfying its eventual, often ridiculous, unraveling. It makes the audience feel smart for “figuring it out,” even if what they’ve figured out is that pigeons are the true global overlords.

3. The Knowing Wink: Tongue-in-Cheek Humour

This isn’t slapstick for its own sake (though a little never hurt!). “Tongue-in-cheek” implies a shared understanding, a subtle nod to the audience that “we know this is ridiculous, and that’s the point.”

  • How we do it:
    • Character-driven absurdity: A villain who meticulously plans world domination but forgets their lunch. A reluctant hero whose biggest concern is finding strong coffee. The deadpan delivery of utterly insane dialogue.
    • Situational irony: The world-ending device being housed in a municipal library’s lost-and-found. The most devastating secret being revealed on a children’s TV show.
    • Subversion of tropes: Taking every classic conspiracy theory cliché (the all-seeing eye, the secret handshake, the cryptic message) and twisting it just enough to make it funny without losing its essence.
    • Self-awareness: The narrative often winks at its own ridiculousness, but never breaks character entirely. It’s about finding the humor within the grand conspiracy, not just overlaying it.

4. Embracing the Bizarre: The Zany Plot

This is where the gloves come off and imagination truly runs wild. If the conspiracy is the skeleton, the zany plot is the vibrant, unpredictable flesh.

  • How we do it: We throw out conventional narrative structures and embrace escalating absurdity. Where a secret society’s ultimate weapon might be a mind-control disco ball, or the key to decoding ancient alien texts involves mastering the art of interpretive dance. The plot twists aren’t just unexpected; they’re wildly, joyfully ludicrous. The solutions to the grand mystery are often simpler (or infinitely more complicated) than anyone could have imagined. Think unexpected car chases involving unicycles, secret lair entrances hidden behind a perpetually broken vending machine, or a climax involving a very confused squirrel.

5. The Secret Sauce: Balance and Juxtaposition

Ultimately, the magic lies in the blend. It’s a constant push and pull between the serious and the silly, the ominous and the outright absurd.

  • How we do it:
    • Pacing: We know when to lean into the genuine tension and dread for a moment, making the audience genuinely concerned, before puncturing that tension with a perfectly timed gag.
    • Contrast: A serious, menacing monologue from a villain, immediately followed by the revelation that they’re wearing bunny slippers. A crucial clue found written on a napkin from a questionable fast-food joint.
    • Anchoring Characters: Often, one or two characters serve as the audience’s anchor, reacting to the madness around them with relatable bewilderment or exasperated cynicism, which amplifies the humour.

Creating a narrative that blends darkness and paranoia with dense conspiracies, tongue-in-cheek humour, and a zany plot isn’t just writing; it’s an art form. It’s about acknowledging the very real anxieties that fuel conspiracy theories, then bravely, playfully, and subversively laughing in their face. It’s about building a world that feels both terrifyingly familiar and delightfully insane. And when it works, it’s an unforgettable journey into the heart of madness, where you’re never quite sure whether to gasp in fear or double over with laughter.

What are your favorite examples of stories that nail this unique blend? Let us know in the comments below!

Searching for locations: The Pagoda Forest, near Zhengzhou City, Henan Province, China

The pagoda forest

After another exhausting walk, by now the heat was beginning to take its toll on everyone, we arrived at the pagoda forest.

A little history first:

The pagoda forest is located west of the Shaolin Temple and the foot of a hill.  As the largest pagoda forest in China, it covers approximately 20,000 square meters and has about 230 pagodas build from the Tang Dynasty (618-907) to the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).

Each pagoda is the tomb of an eminent monk from the Shaolin Temple.  Graceful and exquisite, they belong to different eras and constructed in different styles.  The first pagoda was thought to be built in 791.

It is now a world heritage site.

No, it’s not a forest with trees it’s a collection of over 200 pagodas, each a tribute to a head monk at the temple and it goes back a long time.  The tribute can have one, three, five, or a maximum of seven layers.  The ashes of the individual are buried under the base of the pagoda.

The size, height, and story of the pagoda indicate its accomplishments, prestige, merits, and virtues. Each pagoda was carved with the exact date of construction and brief inscriptions and has its own style with various shapes such as a polygonal, cylindrical, vase, conical and monolithic.

This is one of the more recently constructed pagodas

There are pagodas for eminent foreign monks also in the forest.

From there we get a ride back on the back of a large electric wagon

to the front entrance courtyard where drinks and ice creams can be bought, and a visit to the all-important happy place.

Then it’s back to the hotel.

First Dig Two Graves

A sequel to “The Devil You Don’t”

Revenge is a dish best served cold – or preferably so when everything goes right

Of course, it rarely does, as Alistair, Zoe’s handler, discovers to his peril. Enter a wildcard, John, and whatever Alistair’s plan for dealing with Zoe was dies with him.

It leaves Zoe in completely unfamiliar territory.

John’s idyllic romance with a woman who is utterly out of his comfort zone is on borrowed time. She is still trying to reconcile her ambivalence, after being so indifferent for so long.

They agree to take a break, during which she disappears. John, thinking she has left without saying goodbye, refuses to accept the inevitable, calls on an old friend for help in finding her.

After the mayhem and being briefly reunited, she recognises an inevitable truth: there is a price to pay for taking out Alistair; she must leave and find them first, and he would be wise to keep a low profile.

But keeping a low profile just isn’t possible, and enlisting another friend, a private detective and his sister, a deft computer hacker, they track her to the border between Austria and Hungary.

What John doesn’t realise is that another enemy is tracking him to find her too. It could have been a grand tour of Europe. Instead, it becomes a race against time before enemies old and new converge for what will be an inevitable showdown.

Writing a book in 365 days – 281

Day 281

Dense conspiracies and zany plotting

Spinning Shadows into Sparkle: The Zany Art of Conspiracy Comedy

Isn’t it fascinating how our minds gravitate towards patterns in the chaos? How the whispered “what if” can quickly blossom into a sprawling, intricate web of secret societies, hidden agendas, and dark forces pulling the strings? The appeal of a good conspiracy is undeniable, tapping into our deepest fears and our innate desire for meaning, even if that meaning points to malevolent forces.

But what if those shadowy figures wear mismatched socks? What if their nefarious plot hinges on the strategic deployment of artisanal pickles? What if the hero unearthing the truth is less a grizzled detective and more a bewildered barista?

This, my friends, is the magical alchemy we’re talking about: taking the genuine chill of darkness and paranoia, threading a dense tapestry of conspiracy, and then weaving through it with a generous dose of tongue-in-cheek humour and a plot so zany it practically winks at you. It’s a delicate dance, a narrative tightrope walk, but when executed well, it creates some of the most memorable and beloved stories out there.

So, how do we try to achieve this glorious narrative concoction?


1. Acknowledging the Shadow: The Foundation of Fear

You can’t have effective satire without a genuine understanding of what you’re satirizing. The first step in threading dense conspiracies with humour is to start with the darkness. The paranoia needs to feel real, at least initially. The stakes should, at some level, be genuinely high.

  • How we do it: We establish an underlying threat that feels substantial. The shadowy organisation is powerful. Their goals are unsettling. Without that genuine undercurrent of dread, the humour lands flat. It’s the contrast with this genuine darkness that makes the absurdity sing. Imagine a secret society plotting global domination – that’s the serious core.

2. The Intricate Web: Conspiracies You Can (Almost) Believe

A “dense conspiracy” isn’t just a list of random bad things happening. It’s an interconnected narrative, a puzzle where every piece seems to fit, even if the grand picture is utterly bonkers.

  • How we do it: We layer the clues, introduce a cast of characters with mysterious motives, and connect the dots between the utterly mundane and the outrageously sinister. Perhaps a global drought is linked to a mega-corp’s new line of flavored seltzer. Maybe the disappearance of garden gnomes is a precursor to an alien invasion. The logic, however flawed, must be internally consistent within its own absurd framework. The more intricate the web, the more satisfying its eventual, often ridiculous, unraveling. It makes the audience feel smart for “figuring it out,” even if what they’ve figured out is that pigeons are the true global overlords.

3. The Knowing Wink: Tongue-in-Cheek Humour

This isn’t slapstick for its own sake (though a little never hurt!). “Tongue-in-cheek” implies a shared understanding, a subtle nod to the audience that “we know this is ridiculous, and that’s the point.”

  • How we do it:
    • Character-driven absurdity: A villain who meticulously plans world domination but forgets their lunch. A reluctant hero whose biggest concern is finding strong coffee. The deadpan delivery of utterly insane dialogue.
    • Situational irony: The world-ending device being housed in a municipal library’s lost-and-found. The most devastating secret being revealed on a children’s TV show.
    • Subversion of tropes: Taking every classic conspiracy theory cliché (the all-seeing eye, the secret handshake, the cryptic message) and twisting it just enough to make it funny without losing its essence.
    • Self-awareness: The narrative often winks at its own ridiculousness, but never breaks character entirely. It’s about finding the humor within the grand conspiracy, not just overlaying it.

4. Embracing the Bizarre: The Zany Plot

This is where the gloves come off and imagination truly runs wild. If the conspiracy is the skeleton, the zany plot is the vibrant, unpredictable flesh.

  • How we do it: We throw out conventional narrative structures and embrace escalating absurdity. Where a secret society’s ultimate weapon might be a mind-control disco ball, or the key to decoding ancient alien texts involves mastering the art of interpretive dance. The plot twists aren’t just unexpected; they’re wildly, joyfully ludicrous. The solutions to the grand mystery are often simpler (or infinitely more complicated) than anyone could have imagined. Think unexpected car chases involving unicycles, secret lair entrances hidden behind a perpetually broken vending machine, or a climax involving a very confused squirrel.

5. The Secret Sauce: Balance and Juxtaposition

Ultimately, the magic lies in the blend. It’s a constant push and pull between the serious and the silly, the ominous and the outright absurd.

  • How we do it:
    • Pacing: We know when to lean into the genuine tension and dread for a moment, making the audience genuinely concerned, before puncturing that tension with a perfectly timed gag.
    • Contrast: A serious, menacing monologue from a villain, immediately followed by the revelation that they’re wearing bunny slippers. A crucial clue found written on a napkin from a questionable fast-food joint.
    • Anchoring Characters: Often, one or two characters serve as the audience’s anchor, reacting to the madness around them with relatable bewilderment or exasperated cynicism, which amplifies the humour.

Creating a narrative that blends darkness and paranoia with dense conspiracies, tongue-in-cheek humour, and a zany plot isn’t just writing; it’s an art form. It’s about acknowledging the very real anxieties that fuel conspiracy theories, then bravely, playfully, and subversively laughing in their face. It’s about building a world that feels both terrifyingly familiar and delightfully insane. And when it works, it’s an unforgettable journey into the heart of madness, where you’re never quite sure whether to gasp in fear or double over with laughter.

What are your favorite examples of stories that nail this unique blend? Let us know in the comments below!

Another excerpt from ‘Betrayal’; a work in progress

My next destination in the quest was the hotel we believed Anne Merriweather had stayed at.

I was, in a sense, flying blind because we had no concrete evidence she had been there, and the message she had left behind didn’t quite name the hotel or where Vladimir was going to take her.

Mindful of the fact that someone might have been following me, I checked to see if the person I’d assumed had followed me to Elizabeth’s apartment was still in place, but I couldn’t see him. Next, I made a mental note of seven different candidates and committed them to memory.

Then I set off to the hotel, hailing a taxi. There was the possibility the cab driver was one of them, but perhaps I was slightly more paranoid than I should be. I’d been watching the queue, and there were two others before me.

The journey took about an hour, during which time I kept an eye out the back to see if anyone had been following us. If anyone was, I couldn’t see them.

I had the cab drop me off a block from the hotel and then spent the next hour doing a complete circuit of the block the hotel was on, checking the front and rear entrances, the cameras in place, and the siting of the driveway into the underground carpark. There was a camera over the entrance, and one we hadn’t checked for footage. I sent a text message to Fritz to look into it.

The hotel lobby was large and busy, which was exactly what you’d want if you wanted to come and go without standing out. It would be different later at night, but I could see her arriving about mid-afternoon, and anonymous among the type of clientele the hotel attracted.

I spent an hour sitting in various positions in the lobby simply observing. I had already ascertained where the elevator lobby for the rooms was, and the elevator down to the car park. Fortunately, it was not ‘guarded’ but there was a steady stream of concierge staff coming and going to the lower levels, and, just from time to time, guests.

Then, when there was a commotion at the front door, what seemed to be a collision of guests and free-wheeling bags, I saw one of the seven potential taggers sitting by the front door. Waiting for me to leave? Or were they wondering why I was spending so much time there?

Taking advantage of that confusion, I picked my moment to head for the elevators that went down to the car park, pressed the down button, and waited.

The was no car on the ground level, so I had to wait, watching, like several others, the guests untangling themselves at the entrance, and an eye on my potential surveillance, still absorbed in the confusion.

The doors to the left car opened, and a concierge stepped out, gave me a quick look, then headed back to his desk. I stepped into the car, pressed the first level down, the level I expected cars to arrive on, and waited what seemed like a long time for the doors to close.

As they did, I was expecting to see a hand poke through the gap, a latecomer. Nothing happened, and I put it down to a television moment.

There were three basement levels, and for a moment, I let my imagination run wild and considered the possibility that there were more levels. Of course, there was no indication on the control panel that there were any other floors, and I’d yet to see anything like it in reality.

With a shake of my head to return to reality, the car arrived, the doors opened, and I stepped out.

A car pulled up, and the driver stepped out, went around to the rear of his car, and pulled out a case. I half expected him to throw me the keys, but the instant glance he gave me told him was not the concierge, and instead brushed past me like I wasn’t there.

He bashed the up button several times impatiently and cursed when the doors didn’t open immediately. Not a happy man.

Another car drove past on its way down to a lower level.

I looked up and saw the CCTV camera, pointing towards the entrance, visible in the distance. A gate that lifted up was just about back in position and then made a clunk when it finally closed. The footage from the camera would not prove much, even if it had been working, because it didn’t cover the life lobby, only in the direction of the car entrance.

The doors to the other elevator car opened, and a man in a suit stepped out.

“Can I help you, sir? You seem lost.”

Security, or something else. “It seems that way. I went to the elevator lobby, got in, and it went down rather than up. I must have been in the wrong place.”

“Lost it is, then, sir.” I could hear the contempt for Americans in his tone. “If you will accompany me, please.”

He put out a hand ready to guide me back into the elevator. I was only too happy to oblige him. There had been a sign near the button panel that said the basement levels were only to be accessed by the guests.

Once inside, he turned a key and pressed the lobby button. The doors closed, and we went up. He stood, facing the door, not speaking. A few seconds later, he was ushering me out to the lobby.

“Now, sir, if you are a guest…”

“Actually, I’m looking for one. She called me and said she would be staying in this hotel and to come down and visit her. I was trying to get to the sixth floor.”

“Good. Let’s go over the the desk and see what we can do for you.”

I followed him over to the reception desk, where he signalled one of the clerks, a young woman who looked and acted very efficiently, and told her of my request, but then remained to oversee the proceeding.

“Name of guest, sir?”

“Merriweather, Anne. I’m her brother, Alexander.” I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my passport to prove that I was who I said I was. She glanced cursorily at it.

She typed the name into the computer, and then we waited a few seconds while it considered what to output. Then, she said, “That lady is not in the hotel, sir.”

Time to put on my best-confused look. “But she said she would be staying here for the week. I made a special trip to come here to see her.”

Another puzzled look from the clerk, then, “When did she call you?”

An interesting question to ask, and it set off a warning bell in my head. I couldn’t say today, it would have to be the day she was supposedly taken.

“Last Saturday, about four in the afternoon.”

Another look at the screen, then, “It appears she checked out Sunday morning. I’m afraid you have made a trip in vain.”

Indeed, I had. “Was she staying with anyone?”

I just managed to see the warning pass from the suited man to the clerk. I thought he had shown an interest when I mentioned the name, and now I had confirmation. He knew something about her disappearance. The trouble was, he wasn’t going to volunteer any information because he was more than just hotel security.

“No.”

“Odd,” I muttered. “I thought she told me she was staying with a man named Vladimir something or other. I’m not too good at pronouncing those Russian names. Are you sure?”

She didn’t look back at the screen. “Yes.”

“OK, now one thing I do know about staying in hotels is that you are required to ask guests with foreign passports their next destination, just in case they need to be found. Did she say where she was going next?” It was a long shot, but I thought I’d ask.

“Moscow. As I understand it, she lives in Moscow. That was the only address she gave us.”

I smiled. “Thank you. I know where that is. I probably should have gone there first.”

She didn’t answer; she didn’t have to, her expression did that perfectly.

The suited man spoke again, looking at the clerk. “Thank you.” He swivelled back to me. “I’m sorry we can’t help you.”

“No. You have more than you can know.”

“What was your name again, sir, just in case you still cannot find her?”

“Alexander Merriweather. Her brother. And if she is still missing, I will be posting a very large reward. At the moment, you can best contact me via the American Embassy.”

Money is always a great motivator, and that thoughtful expression on his face suggested he gave a moment’s thought to it.

I left him with that offer and left. If anything, the people who were holding her would know she had a brother, that her brother was looking for her, and equally that brother had money.

© Charles Heath – 2018-2025