Like any book that is the second in a series, there is that inevitable question – What am I going to write about now?
You’re fighting off the, everyone had at least one book in them, and sitting down staring at that blank page because maybe your character has found the woman of his dreams, and there’s no need to chase anymore.
Who said Zoe had any interest in settling down?
She has missed getting out there and doing a job she is good at.
But rather than have her hunting people down, I thought it would be better if she were the one being hunted.
The thing is, she had managed to make more than one enemy over the years. And given the bounty, it brings old foes and fellow assassins out of the woodwork and into her path.
And a few people she had left behind, intentionally or otherwise.
But, the least expected, armed with a pair of dogged private detectives, is her newest friend, and want-to-be boyfriend.
She should have realised that he was not going to go away like he was supposed to.
But, here’s the thing…
People on both sides are looking for her, each with very different reasons, but all have the same intention…
This story has been ongoing since I was seventeen, and just to let you know, I’m 72 this year.
Yes, it’s taken a long time to get it done.
Why, you might ask.
Well, I never gave it much interest because I started writing it after a small incident when I was 17, and working as a book packer for a book distributor in Melbourne
At the end of my first year, at Christmas, the employer had a Christmas party, and that year, it was at a venue in St Kilda.
I wasn’t going to go because at that age, I was an ordinary boy who was very introverted and basically scared of his own shadow and terrified by girls.
Back then, I would cross the street to avoid them
Also, other members of the staff in the shipping department were rough and ready types who were not backwards in telling me what happened, and being naive, perhaps they knew I’d be either shocked or intrigued.
I was both adamant I wasn’t coming and then got roped in on a dare.
Damn!
So, back then, in the early 70s, people looked the other way when it came to drinking, and of course, Dutch courage always takes away the concerns, especially when normally you wouldn’t do half the stuff you wouldn’t in a million years
I made it to the end, not as drunk and stupid as I thought I might be, and St Kilda being a salacious place if you knew where to look, my new friends decided to give me a surprise.
It didn’t take long to realise these men were ‘men about town’ as they kept saying, and we went on an odyssey. Yes, those backstreet brothels where one could, I was told, have anything they could imagine.
Let me tell you, large quantities of alcohol and imagination were a very bad mix.
So, the odyssey in ‘The things we do’ was based on that, and then the encounter with Diana. Well, let’s just say I learned a great deal about girls that night.
Firstly, not all girls are nasty and spiteful, which seemed to be the case whenever I met one. There was a way to approach, greet, talk to, and behave.
It was also true that I could have had anything I wanted, but I decided what was in my imagination could stay there. She was amused that all I wanted was to talk, but it was my money, and I could spend it how I liked.
And like any 17-year-old naive fool, I fell in love with her and had all these foolish notions. Months later, I went back, but she had moved on, to where no one was saying or knew.
Needless to say, I was heartbroken and had to get over that first loss, which, like any 17-year-old, was like the end of the world.
But it was the best hour I’d ever spent in my life and would remain so until I met the woman I have been married to for the last 48 years.
As Henry, he was in part based on a rebel, the son of rich parents who despised them and their wealth, and he used to regale anyone who would listen about how they had messed up his life
If only I’d come from such a background!
And yes, I was only a run away from climbing up the stairs to get on board a ship, acting as a purser.
I worked for a shipping company and they gave their junior staff members an opportunity to spend a year at sea working as a purser on a cargo ship that sailed between Melbourne, Sydney and Hobart in Australia.
One of the other junior staff members’ turn came, and I would visit him on board when he would tell me stories about life on board, the officers, the crew, and other events. These stories, which sounded incredible to someone so impressionable, were a delight to hear.
Alas, by that time, I had tired of office work and moved on to be a tradesman at the place where my father worked.
It proved to be the right move, as that is where I met my wife. Diana had been right; love would find me when I least expected it.
The Happy Ending Debate: Is It All About Where You Stop the Story?
We’ve all been there. Lost in a book, glued to a screen, investing our emotions in characters and their journeys. As the story nears its end, a quiet hope stirs within us: Please, let them be happy. We crave resolution, comfort, and the satisfaction of knowing that, in this fictional world at least, good triumphs and love prevails.
But should every story culminate in a neat, tidy, and unequivocally happy ending? And more profoundly, is the ‘happiness’ of an ending simply a matter of where the author chooses to draw the final curtain?
The Allure of the Sunny Conclusion
There’s no denying the power and appeal of a happy ending. They offer:
Escapism: Life is often messy and unpredictable. Stories with joyous resolutions provide a much-needed mental break, a reminder that things can turn out well.
Hope: They validate our belief in perseverance, the triumph of good over evil, and the idea that our own struggles might eventually lead to brighter days.
Satisfaction: A happy ending can feel like a reward for the emotional investment we’ve made, a pleasant closure to a captivating experience.
From classic fairy tales to blockbuster rom-coms, these endings serve a vital purpose, leaving us with a warm feeling and a sense that balance has been restored.
The Unflinching Gaze of Reality
However, limiting all narratives to happy conclusions would be a disservice to the vast spectrum of human experience. Sometimes, stories need to:
Reflect Reality: Life isn’t always fair, and not every conflict resolves harmoniously. Stories that acknowledge pain, loss, and unresolved tension can be incredibly powerful and resonant.
Provoke Thought: Tragic or ambiguous endings often linger longer in the mind, prompting deeper reflection on themes, choices, and consequences.
Offer Catharsis: Witnessing a character’s journey through suffering, even if it doesn’t end happily, can be a form of emotional release and understanding for the audience.
Teach and Warn: Some stories serve as cautionary tales or explorations of the darker sides of humanity, and a happy ending would undermine their core message.
Think of literary classics, historical dramas, or poignant independent films – their power often lies in their refusal to sugarcoat the human condition.
The Art of the Final Frame: Where Do You Stop?
This brings us to the most intriguing part of the debate: Is a happy ending simply a matter of narrative framing?
Consider this: Is a character’s failure truly the end, or is it merely the lowest point before a potential rise? Is a bittersweet goodbye truly sad, or is it a necessary step towards individual growth and new beginnings?
Life is Continuous: In reality, our stories don’t stop. A “happy ending” might just be a moment of respite before the next challenge, and a “tragic ending” could be the catalyst for profound change in others.
The Power of Hope: An ending doesn’t have to be happy to be hopeful. A character might face immense loss, but the final scene could show them finding a glimmer of purpose, taking a first step towards healing, or inspiring others to carry on. This isn’t happiness in the traditional sense, but it offers forward momentum.
The Reader’s Imagination: Sometimes, an author intentionally leaves an ending open, trusting the audience to imagine what comes next. What feels unresolved to one person might feel like an invitation for possibility to another. The “end” of the story is merely where the author stops narrating; the characters’ lives, in our minds, continue.
Satisfying vs. Happy: A story can have a satisfying ending without being strictly happy. It can be satisfying because it feels earned, logical, and true to the characters and themes, even if it’s painful or melancholic.
Crafting the Right Conclusion
Ultimately, whether a story should have a happy ending isn’t a universal rule, but a deliberate choice. It depends on:
The Genre: Rom-coms and fairytales thrive on happiness; noir and tragedies demand a different tone.
The Story’s Purpose: Is it meant to uplift, entertain, challenge, or reflect?
The Characters’ Journeys: Does a happy ending feel organic and earned, or forced and unrealistic, given what the characters have endured and become?
So, should every story have a happy ending? Probably not. But should every story offer some form of resolution, be it hopeful, cathartic, or thought-provoking? Absolutely.
The true magic lies in the storyteller’s ability to know precisely where to stop, leaving us not necessarily with boundless joy, but with a feeling that the journey was complete, meaningful, and true – even if the sun isn’t shining quite so brightly in that final frame.
What do you think? Do you prefer happy endings, or do you find more satisfaction in realistic or even tragic conclusions? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
The Art of the Landscape: What Thomas Hardy Taught Ursula K. Le Guin About “Showing, Not Telling”
Every writer has heard the golden rule: “Show, don’t tell.”
It is the advice that launches a thousand creative writing workshops, yet it remains one of the most misunderstood concepts in literature. Does it mean you can never state an emotion? Does it mean your prose must be purely cinematic?
To find the true essence of this rule, we can look to a master of the craft, Ursula K. Le Guin. In her legendary essays on writing, Le Guin often pointed to a specific, masterful example of environmental storytelling: the opening chapter of Thomas Hardy’s The Return of the Native.
Here is how Hardy uses the landscape of Egdon Heath to redefine what it meant to “show” an entire world before a single character ever speaks.
The Trap of “Telling”
When beginners are told to “show,” they often interpret it as a directive to describe every micro-movement—“She clenched her fist, her knuckles turning white, showing her anger.”
While this is “showing,” it is literal and often clunky. True “showing” is about atmosphere, mood, and implication. It is about placing the reader in a space where they can feel the truth of the situation without being lectured by the author.
The Lesson from Egdon Heath
In the first chapter of The Return of the Native, Thomas Hardy does something radical. He doesn’t introduce a hero, a villain, or a dialogue-driven incident. Instead, he introduces the heath itself.
As Ursula K. Le Guin noted in her workshops, Hardy treats Egdon Heath not as a backdrop, but as a living, breathing participant in the story. He writes:
“The place became full of a watchful intentness now; for when other things sank brooding to sleep the heath appeared slowly to awake and listen.”
Hardy is doing something extraordinary here. He is “showing” the reader the tone of the entire novel before the plot begins. He doesn’t tell us, “The setting is oppressive, ancient, and indifferent to human suffering.” Instead, he describes the heath as a creature that “awaits” and “listens.”
Why Le Guin Admired This Approach
Le Guin championed this passage because it teaches writers that environment is character.
By spending pages describing the soil, the colours of the heath, the shadows, and the way the light dies over the horizon, Hardy creates a sense of foreboding. He shows the reader that the human lives within this book will be small, fragile, and ultimately at the mercy of this vast, prehistoric landscape.
If Hardy had simply told us, “The story takes place in a lonely, haunting part of England where people struggle against nature,” the reader would have accepted it as a fact. But by showing it—by making the heath look, act, and “feel”—the reader experiences that loneliness in their own bones.
Three Ways to Apply the “Hardy-Le Guin” Method
If you want to move beyond the surface-level interpretation of “show, don’t tell,” try these three strategies:
1. Use the Setting to Establish Stakes
Don’t just have your characters walk through a room. Have the room reflect the state of the story. If a marriage is failing, show the dust on the mantle or the way the light doesn’t quite reach the chairs. Make your setting a reflection of your underlying themes.
2. Let the Landscape “Listen”
Hardy gave the heath a sense of “watchful intentness.” What is your setting doing? Is the city you are writing in hostile? Does the forest feel like it’s holding its breath? Giving your setting semi-sentient traits can anchor your reader in the mood of the piece instantly.
3. Trust the Reader’s Intelligence
Hardy didn’t need to summarise the history of Egdon Heath. He trusted the reader to pick up the vibe of the place through the sensory language he used. When you write, pull back on the adjectives and lean into the gestures of your environment.
The Takeaway
“Show, don’t tell” isn’t about avoiding exposition; it’s about making your exposition experiential.
As Ursula K. Le Guin taught, the best writers don’t just dump information on the reader. They build a world so tactile and evocative that the “meaning” of the story is felt long before it is understood. Take a page from Hardy: ignore the plot for a moment, look at the world you’ve built, and ask yourself—is my setting just a stage, or is it alive?
That’s a fantastic way to explore Malta! While the island nation is small, it hides numerous incredible spots away from the main tourist crowds.
Here are five places and activities off the well-trodden path in Malta and Gozo:
1. The Three Cities (Vittoriosa, Senglea, and Cospicua)
While not exactly “unknown,” the Three Cities are often overshadowed by Valletta and Mdina, making them a more authentic and less crowded alternative.
Vittoriosa (Birgu): As the oldest of the three, it was the first home of the Knights of St. John in Malta. Wander its narrow, ancient streets, and visit Fort St. Angelo for stunning views across the Grand Harbour back to Valletta.
Senglea (L-Isla): Walk through the charming backstreets and find your way to the Gardjola Gardens for one of the most iconic views of Valletta. The watchtower here has an eye and ear carved into its stone, symbolising vigilance.
2. Wied il-Għasri (Gozo)
For a secluded and unique swimming spot, head to the island of Gozo to find this hidden gem.
The Place: Wied il-Għasri is a spectacular sea gorge, or “fjord,” with crystal-clear turquoise waters. It cuts inland between dramatic cliffs, ending in a tiny pebbly beach.
The Activity: It’s perfect for a quiet swim, snorkelling, or simply enjoying the serenity away from the more crowded beaches. For the adventurous, you can rent a kayak to paddle through the gorge and out into the open sea.
3. Coral Lagoon (Malta)
The Coral Lagoon, also known as the Bilblija Cave, is a stunning natural sea cave located in the north of the main island, near Armier.
The Place: It’s an open-air cave with a large hole in the roof, allowing light to pour into the azure water below. The opening to the sea is small, making the lagoon feel like a massive, natural swimming pool.
The Activity: You can carefully climb down into the water for a unique swim. Many locals also use the surrounding cliff face as a jumping-off point. It requires a short hike to reach and is best visited on a calm day.
4. Il-Majjistral Nature and History Park (Malta)
If you’re looking for a dedicated nature escape, this park on the northwestern coast offers beautiful hiking trails, historical sites, and untouched coastlines.
The Place: The park stretches along the coast from Golden Bay up to Popeye Village. It’s Malta’s only natural park, protecting the area’s geology, archaeology, and ecology.
The Activity: Go for a walk or hike to explore the rural landscape, see the clay cliffs, and discover abandoned military and historical structures. It offers views that are completely different from the fortified cities and coastal resorts.
5. Ta’ Ċenċ Cliffs (Gozo)
While the Dingli Cliffs on the main island of Malta are famous for sunsets, the Ta’ Ċenċ Cliffs on Gozo offer a similar dramatic clifftop experience with far fewer people.
The Place: Located on the southern coast of Gozo, these cliffs are less accessible by major roads, ensuring a peaceful experience. The area is also a designated bird sanctuary.
The Activity: Take a sunset stroll along the top of the cliffs. The vast, uninterrupted views of the Mediterranean Sea are breathtaking, and it’s a perfect spot for nature photography or a picnic. You can also hike along the coastal path toward Xlendi or Mgarr Ix-Xini.
That’s an excellent choice! While the major sites like Taormina and the Valley of the Temples are stunning, Sicily’s true soul often lies in its quieter villages, ancient ruins, and dramatic nature reserves.
Here are five places or activities to explore on the road less travelled in Sicily:
1. Cycle and Swim the Egadi Islands (Favignana/Levanzo)
What it is: A small archipelago off the western coast near Trapani. Favignana is the largest and most accessible, and Levanzo is even smaller and more remote.
Why it’s less travelled: While popular with Italian vacationers, they remain largely car-free (especially Levanzo), promoting a slow, relaxed pace of travel that’s rare on the mainland.
Activity: Rent a bicycle upon arriving at Favignana’s port and spend the day cycling to the gorgeous turquoise coves like Cala Rossa and Cala Azzurra. On Levanzo, you can hike to the prehistoric Grotta del Genovese cave, featuring ancient Paleolithic rock carvings.
2. Explore the Labyrinthine Town of Erice
What it is: A beautifully preserved medieval hilltop town perched 750 meters above sea level, overlooking the city of Trapani and the western coast.
Why it’s less travelled: Many tourists bypass it for coastal towns. It’s famous for its atmospheric, narrow, cobbled streets and the frequent, dramatic mist that engulfs the town, making it feel completely isolated and otherworldly.
Activity: Wander the maze-like stone streets, visit the Norman Castello di Venere (Castle of Venus) built on the site of an ancient temple, and taste the famous local almond pastries from the historic Pasticceria Maria Grammatico.
3. Hike or Canyon the Gole dell’Alcantara
What it is: A spectacular series of gorges and canyons carved by the cold Alcantara River, located on the northern slopes of Mount Etna. The walls are made of dark, columnar basalt lava rock.
Why it’s less travelled: This is a nature and adventure destination that requires active participation, pulling visitors away from the historic towns.
Activity: Walk along the floor of the icy river (wetsuits/boots are highly recommended in the cooler months and often available for rent) or descend into the gorge for a dramatic, up-close view of the unique vertical lava formations.
4. Visit the Carved Cave Village of Sperlinga
What it is: A truly remote medieval village in the mountainous heart of Sicily, dominated by a Norman castle carved directly into the rock. The town’s name, Sperlinga, comes from the Greek word for “cave.”
Why it’s less travelled: Located deep in the rugged Sicilian interior, it is far from major tourist routes. It offers an incredible look at ancient rural life.
Activity: Explore the castle with its massive staircase carved from a single piece of rock, and wander through the small network of ancient cave dwellings (grottos) below the main structure that once housed the peasant community.
5. Discover the Hidden Baroque of Scicli
What it is: One of the spectacular Baroque towns of the Val di Noto (a UNESCO area), but significantly quieter and less visited than its neighbours, Noto and Ragusa Ibla.
Why it’s less travelled: It feels genuinely lived-in and has fewer large hotels, offering a relaxed and authentic glimpse of Sicilian life. It’s built into the cliffs of a canyon, giving it a unique layered appearance.
Activity: Stroll the main street, Via Francesco Mormino Penna, admire the honey-colored Baroque palaces and churches, and climb the hill to the top of San Matteo for a panoramic view of the town nestled in the valley.
The Art of the Landscape: What Thomas Hardy Taught Ursula K. Le Guin About “Showing, Not Telling”
Every writer has heard the golden rule: “Show, don’t tell.”
It is the advice that launches a thousand creative writing workshops, yet it remains one of the most misunderstood concepts in literature. Does it mean you can never state an emotion? Does it mean your prose must be purely cinematic?
To find the true essence of this rule, we can look to a master of the craft, Ursula K. Le Guin. In her legendary essays on writing, Le Guin often pointed to a specific, masterful example of environmental storytelling: the opening chapter of Thomas Hardy’s The Return of the Native.
Here is how Hardy uses the landscape of Egdon Heath to redefine what it meant to “show” an entire world before a single character ever speaks.
The Trap of “Telling”
When beginners are told to “show,” they often interpret it as a directive to describe every micro-movement—“She clenched her fist, her knuckles turning white, showing her anger.”
While this is “showing,” it is literal and often clunky. True “showing” is about atmosphere, mood, and implication. It is about placing the reader in a space where they can feel the truth of the situation without being lectured by the author.
The Lesson from Egdon Heath
In the first chapter of The Return of the Native, Thomas Hardy does something radical. He doesn’t introduce a hero, a villain, or a dialogue-driven incident. Instead, he introduces the heath itself.
As Ursula K. Le Guin noted in her workshops, Hardy treats Egdon Heath not as a backdrop, but as a living, breathing participant in the story. He writes:
“The place became full of a watchful intentness now; for when other things sank brooding to sleep the heath appeared slowly to awake and listen.”
Hardy is doing something extraordinary here. He is “showing” the reader the tone of the entire novel before the plot begins. He doesn’t tell us, “The setting is oppressive, ancient, and indifferent to human suffering.” Instead, he describes the heath as a creature that “awaits” and “listens.”
Why Le Guin Admired This Approach
Le Guin championed this passage because it teaches writers that environment is character.
By spending pages describing the soil, the colours of the heath, the shadows, and the way the light dies over the horizon, Hardy creates a sense of foreboding. He shows the reader that the human lives within this book will be small, fragile, and ultimately at the mercy of this vast, prehistoric landscape.
If Hardy had simply told us, “The story takes place in a lonely, haunting part of England where people struggle against nature,” the reader would have accepted it as a fact. But by showing it—by making the heath look, act, and “feel”—the reader experiences that loneliness in their own bones.
Three Ways to Apply the “Hardy-Le Guin” Method
If you want to move beyond the surface-level interpretation of “show, don’t tell,” try these three strategies:
1. Use the Setting to Establish Stakes
Don’t just have your characters walk through a room. Have the room reflect the state of the story. If a marriage is failing, show the dust on the mantle or the way the light doesn’t quite reach the chairs. Make your setting a reflection of your underlying themes.
2. Let the Landscape “Listen”
Hardy gave the heath a sense of “watchful intentness.” What is your setting doing? Is the city you are writing in hostile? Does the forest feel like it’s holding its breath? Giving your setting semi-sentient traits can anchor your reader in the mood of the piece instantly.
3. Trust the Reader’s Intelligence
Hardy didn’t need to summarise the history of Egdon Heath. He trusted the reader to pick up the vibe of the place through the sensory language he used. When you write, pull back on the adjectives and lean into the gestures of your environment.
The Takeaway
“Show, don’t tell” isn’t about avoiding exposition; it’s about making your exposition experiential.
As Ursula K. Le Guin taught, the best writers don’t just dump information on the reader. They build a world so tactile and evocative that the “meaning” of the story is felt long before it is understood. Take a page from Hardy: ignore the plot for a moment, look at the world you’ve built, and ask yourself—is my setting just a stage, or is it alive?
It was the first time in almost a week that I made the short walk to the cafe alone. It was early, and the chill of the morning was still in the air. In summer, it was the best time of the day. When Susan came with me, it was usually much later, when the day was much warmer and less tolerable.
On the morning of the third day of her visit, Susan said she was missing the hustle and bustle of London, and by the end of the fourth she said, in not so many words, she was over being away from ‘civilisation’. This was a side of her I had not seen before, and it surprised me.
She hadn’t complained, but it was making her irritable. The Susan that morning was vastly different to the Susan on the first day. So much, I thought, for her wanting to ‘reconnect’, the word she had used as the reason for coming to Greve unannounced.
It was also the first morning I had time to reflect on her visit and what my feelings were towards her. It was the reason I’d come to Greve: to soak up the peace and quiet and think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
I sat in my usual corner. Maria, one of two waitresses, came out, stopped, and there was no mistaking the relief in her manner. There was an air of tension between Susan and Maria I didn’t understand, and it seemed to emanate from Susan rather than the other way around. I could understand her attitude if it was towards Alisha, but not Maria. All she did was serve coffee and cake.
When Maria recovered from the momentary surprise, she said, smiling, “You are by yourself?” She gave a quick glance in the direction of my villa, just to be sure.
“I am this morning. I’m afraid the heat, for one who is not used to it, can be quite debilitating. I’m also afraid it has had a bad effect on her manners, for which I apologise. I cannot explain why she has been so rude to you.”
“You do not have to apologise for her, David, but it is of no consequence to me. I have had a lot worse. I think she is simply jealous.”
It had crossed my mind, but there was no reason for her to be. “Why?”
“She is a woman, I am a woman, she thinks because you and I are friends, there is something between us.”
It made sense, even if it was not true. “Perhaps if I explained…”
Maria shook her head. “If there is a hole in the boat, you should not keep bailing but try to plug the hole. My grandfather had many expressions, David. If I may give you one piece of advice, as much as it is none of my business, you need to make your feelings known, and if they are not as they once were, and I think they are not, you need to tell her. Before she goes home.”
Interesting advice. Not only a purveyor of excellent coffee, but Maria was also a psychiatrist who had astutely worked out my dilemma. What was that expression, ‘not just a pretty face’?
“Is she leaving soon?” I asked, thinking Maria knew more about Susan’s movements than I did.
“You would disappoint me if you had not suspected as much. Susan was having coffee and talking to someone in her office on a cell phone. It was an intense conversation. I should not eavesdrop, but she said being here was like being stuck in hell. It is a pity she does not share your love for our little piece of paradise, is it not?”
“It is indeed. And you’re right. She said she didn’t have a phone, but I know she has one. She just doesn’t value the idea of getting away from the office. Perhaps her role doesn’t afford her that luxury.”
And perhaps Alisha was right about Maria, that I should be more careful. She had liked Maria the moment she saw her. We had sat at this very table, the first day I arrived. I would have travelled alone, but Prendergast, my old boss, liked to know where ex-employees of the Department were, and what they were doing.
She sighed. “I am glad I am just a waitress. Your usual coffee and cake?”
“Yes, please.”
Several months had passed since we had rescued Susan from her despotic father; she had recovered faster than we had thought, and settled into her role as the new Lady Featherington, though she preferred not to use that title, but go by the name of Lady Susan Cheney.
I didn’t get to be a Lord, or have any title, not that I was expecting one. What I had expected was that Susan, once she found her footing as head of what seemed to be a commercial empire, would not have time for details like husbands, particularly when our agreement made before the wedding gave either of us the right to end it.
There was a moment when I visited her recovering in the hospital, where I was going to give her the out, but I didn’t, and she had not invoked it. We were still married, just not living together.
This visit was one where she wanted to ‘reconnect’ as she called it, and invite me to come home with her. She saw no reason why we could not resume our relationship, conveniently forgetting she indirectly had me arrested for her murder, charges both her mother and Lucy vigorously pursued, and had the clone not returned to save me, I might still be in jail.
It was not something I would forgive or forget any time soon.
There were other reasons why I was reluctant to stay with her, like forgetting small details, an irregularity in her character I found odd. She looked the same, she sounded the same, she basically acted the same, but my mind was telling me something was not right. It was not the Susan I first met, even allowing for the ordeal she had been subjected to.
But, despite those misgivings, there was no question in my mind that I still loved her, and her clandestine arrival had brought back all those feelings. But as the days passed, I began to get the impression my feelings were one-sided and she was just going through the motions.
Which brought me to the last argument, earlier, where I said if I went with her, it would be business meetings, social obligations, and quite simply her ‘celebrity’ status that would keep us apart. I reminded her that I had said from the outset I didn’t like the idea of being in the spotlight, and when I reiterated it, she simply brushed it off as just part of the job, adding rather strangely that I always looked good in a suit. The flippancy of that comment was the last straw, and I left before I said something I would regret.
I knew I was not a priority. Maybe somewhere inside me, I had wanted to be a priority, and I was disappointed when I was not.
And finally, there was Alisha. Susan, at the height of the argument, had intimated she believed I had an affair with her, but that elephant was always in the room whenever Alisha was around. It was no surprise when I learned Susan had asked Prendergast to reassign her to other duties.
At least I knew what my feelings for Alisha were, and there were times when I had to remember she was persona non grata. Perhaps that was why Susan had her banished, but, again, a small detail; jealousy was not one of Susan’s traits when I first knew her.
Perhaps it was time to set Susan free.
When I swung around to look in the direction of the lane where my villa was, I saw Susan. She was formally dressed, not in her ‘tourist’ clothes, which she had bought from one of the local clothing stores. We had fun that day, shopping for clothes, a chore I’d always hated. It had been followed by a leisurely lunch, lots of wine and soul searching.
It was the reason why I sat in this corner; old habits die hard. I could see trouble coming from all directions, not that Susan was trouble or at least I hoped not, but it allowed me the time to watch her walking towards the cafe in what appeared to be short, angry steps; perhaps the culmination of the heat wave and our last argument.
She glared at me as she sat, dropping her bag beside her on the ground, where I could see the cell phone sitting on top. She followed my glance down, and then she looked unrepentant back at me.
Maria came back at the exact moment she was going to speak. I noticed Maria hesitate for a second when she saw Susan, then put her smile in place to deliver my coffee.
Neither spoke nor looked at each other. I said, “Susan will have what I’m having, thanks.”
Maria nodded and left.
“Now,” I said, leaning back in my seat, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why you didn’t tell me about the phone, but that first time you disappeared, I’d guessed you needed to keep in touch with your business interests. I thought it somewhat unwisethat you should come out when the board of one of your companies was trying to remove you, because of what was it, an unexplained absence? All you had to do was tell me there were problems and you needed to remain at home to resolve them.”
My comment elicited a sideways look, with a touch of surprise.
“It was unfortunate timing on their behalf, and I didn’t want you to think everything else was more important than us. There were issues before I came, and I thought the people at home would be able to manage without me for at least a week, but I was wrong.”
“Why come at all. A phone call would have sufficed.”
“I had to see you, talk to you. At least we have had a chance to do that. I’m sorry about yesterday. I once told you I would not become my mother, but I’m afraid I sounded just like her. I misjudged just how much this role would affect me, and truly, I’m sorry.”
An apology was the last thing I expected.
“You have a lot of work to do catching up after being away, and of course, in replacing your mother and gaining the requisite respect as the new Lady Featherington. I think it would be for the best if I were not another distraction. We have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves when you get past all these teething issues.”
“You’re not coming with me?” She sounded disappointed.
“I think it would be for the best if I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“It should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. You are so much better doing your job without me. I told your mother once that when the time came I would not like the responsibilities of being your husband. Now that I have seen what it could possibly entail, I like it even less. You might also want to reconsider our arrangement, after all, we only had a marriage of convenience, and now that those obligations have been fulfilled, we both have the option of terminating it. I won’t make things difficult for you if that’s what you want.”
It was yet another anomaly, I thought; she should look distressed, and I would raise the matter of that arrangement. Perhaps she had forgotten the finer points. I, on the other hand, had always known we would not last forever. The perplexed expression, to me, was a sign she might have forgotten.
Then, her expression changed. “Is that what you want?”
“I wasn’t madly in love with you when we made that arrangement, so it was easy to agree to your terms, but inexplicably, since then, my feelings for you changed, and I would be sad if we parted ways. But the truth is, I can’t see how this is going to work.”
“In saying that, do you think I don’t care for you?”
That was exactly what I was thinking, but I wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud. “You spent a lot of time finding new ways to make my life miserable, Susan. You and that wretched friend of yours, Lucy. While your attitude improved after we were married, that was because you were going to use me when you went to see your father, and then almost let me go to prison for your murder.”
“I had nothing to do with that, other than to leave, and I didn’t agree with Lucy that you should be made responsible for my disappearance. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my mother. She hated you; Lucy didn’t understand you, and Millie told me I was stupid for not loving you in return, and she was right. Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? You made it impossible not to fall in love with you, and it nearly changed my mind about everything I’d been planning so meticulously. But perhaps there was a more subliminal reason why I did because after I left, I wanted to believe, if anything went wrong, you would come and find me.”
“How could you possibly know that I’d even consider doing something like that, given what you knew about me?”
“Prendergast made a passing comment when my mother asked him about you; he told us you were very good at finding people and even better at fixing problems.”
“And yet here we are, one argument away from ending it.”
I could see Maria hovering, waiting for the right moment to deliver her coffee, then go back and find Gianna, the café owner, instead. Gianna was more abrupt and, for that reason, was rarely seen serving the customers. Today, she was particularly cantankerous, banging the cake dish on the table and frowning at Susan before returning to her kitchen. Gianna didn’t like Susan either.
Behind me, I heard a car stop, and when she looked up, I knew it was for her. She had arrived with nothing, and she was leaving with nothing.
She stood. “Last chance.”
“Forever?”
She hesitated and then shook away the look of annoyance on her face. “Of course not. I wanted you to come back with me so we could continue working on our relationship. I agree there are problems, but it’s nothing we can’t resolve if we try.”
I had been trying. “It’s too soon for both of us, Susan. I need to be able to trust you, and given the circumstances, and all that water under the bridge, I’m not sure if I can yet.”
She frowned at me. “As you wish.” She took an envelope out of her bag and put it on the table. “When you are ready, it’s an open ticket home. Please make it sooner rather than later. Despite what you think of me, I have missed you, and I have no intention of ending it between us.”
That said, she glared at me for a minute, shook her head, then walked to the car. I watched her get in and the car drive slowly away.
Unlocking the Night: Exploring the Mystical and the Mundane in Our Dreams
The moment our conscious minds drift into slumber, a new world unfurls. A world where gravity is optional, where the familiar can morph into the surreal, and where echoes of our waking lives mingle with the utterly bizarre. Dreams. They’ve captivated, puzzled, and inspired humanity for millennia, sparking endless debate about their true nature. Are they celestial messages whispered from beyond, or simply the chaotic rumblings of our own sleeping brains?
For many, dreams are indeed magical journeys. They offer an escape from the mundane, transporting us to fantastical landscapes, reuniting us with lost loved ones, or allowing us to fly through star-dusted skies. These are the dreams that linger, leaving us with a sense of wonder and a touch of longing for the ephemeral reality we briefly inhabited. They can feel profoundly significant, imbued with a wisdom or a warning that feels almost otherworldly. Think of the ancient interpretations, where dreams were seen as direct communications from deities or omens of the future. This perspective imbues our dreamscapes with a powerful, almost spiritual, aura.
On the other hand, the realm of psychology offers a compelling alternative: dreams as eruptions of the subconscious. Freud famously theorised that dreams are the “royal road to the unconscious,” a space where repressed desires, unresolved conflicts, and hidden anxieties can manifest in symbolic form. From this viewpoint, those fleeting images and nonsensical narratives are not random but are rather the deeply buried parts of ourselves fighting for attention. That recurring dream of being chased might not be a premonition of danger, but a symbolic representation of avoidance in our waking life. Understanding these subconscious eruptions can be a powerful tool for self-discovery and personal growth.
But how do we bridge these two seemingly disparate interpretations? And more importantly, how do we glean meaning from the often elusive tapestry of our dreams? For a growing number of individuals, the answer lies in a simple yet profound practice: keeping a dream journal.
The act of writing down your dreams, no matter how fragmented or strange they may seem, is an incredibly potent way to engage with your nocturnal adventures. It’s like catching fireflies in a jar – you’re capturing fleeting moments of light and then examining them more closely in the quiet of the morning.
Here’s why a dream journal can be so transformative:
Enhanced Recall: Dreams are notoriously fleeting. The moment you wake up, the images begin to fade. By immediately jotting down what you remember, you’re preserving these valuable fragments before they vanish into the ether. Even a few keywords or a fleeting image can trigger fuller memories later.
Pattern Recognition: Over time, you’ll start to notice recurring themes, symbols, and emotions in your dreams. This is where the real magic of a journal unfolds. Are you frequently encountering water? Are there specific people who keep appearing? These patterns can offer profound insights into your current emotional state, your subconscious concerns, and even your deepest aspirations.
Symbol Interpretation: While some dream symbols are universal, many are deeply personal. By seeing your symbols laid out in your journal, you can begin to decipher their unique meaning to you. What does that specific colour, that peculiar object, or that strange location represent in your personal lexicon?
Bridging the Gap: A dream journal can act as a bridge between the magical and the mundane. You can still appreciate the fantastical journeys while simultaneously seeking the underlying psychological messages. It allows for both wonder and introspection.
Boosting Creativity: Many artists, writers, and musicians draw inspiration directly from their dreams. A well-maintained dream journal can be a treasure trove of unique ideas, unexpected plot twists, and evocative imagery, fueling your creative endeavours.
Whether you view your dreams as whimsical escapades or as vital messages from your inner self, the practice of keeping a dream journal offers a tangible way to connect with this mysterious and often overlooked aspect of your existence. So, next time you wake with a phantom sensation or a lingering image, grab a notebook and pen. You might just be on the verge of unlocking a hidden world within yourself.
What are your thoughts on dreams? Do you keep a dream journal? Share your experiences in the comments below!
The Symbiotic Cycle: Why Writing and Living Are Inseparable
“I shall live badly if I do not write, and I shall write badly if I do not live.” — Françoise Sagan
When the French novelist Françoise Sagan uttered these words, she wasn’t just talking about the craft of writing; she was defining the heartbeat of the creative process. For many, writing is a profession, a hobby, or a necessary outlet. But for the serious practitioner, writing is a metabolism. It is the process of converting life into art and art back into fuel for life.
But what does this delicate, circular balance actually mean for those of us who struggle to find time for both? Let’s break down the symbiotic relationship between lived experience and the written word.
Part I: “I shall live badly if I do not write”
For the dedicated writer, writing is not an extracurricular activity. It is a psychological hygiene practice. When we don’t write, the internal static—the observations, the frustrations, the fleeting moments of beauty—begins to clog our internal machinery.
Writing as Processing: Life is chaotic. We encounter grief, joy, and existential absurdity in rapid succession. Writing turns the abstract feelings of our day-to-day existence into something tangible. Without this outlet, we often “live badly” because we are carrying the weight of unexamined experiences.
The Clarity of Thought: Joan Didion famously said, “I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.” When you fail to write, you lose your internal compass. Writing forces you to articulate your values, which in turn helps you live with greater intention.
Part II: “I shall write badly if I do not live”
The flip side of Sagan’s coin is equally dangerous. If you retreat into a hermetically sealed room to write, believing that “inspiration” will strike you in isolation, your work will eventually suffer. This is the “Ivory Tower” trap.
The Well Must Be Refilled: You cannot pour from an empty cup. If your life is devoid of risk, conversation, sunlight, failure, and connection, your writing will begin to taste like stale water. Great writing requires the raw material of reality—the sensory details of a subway ride, the awkwardness of a first date, or the frustration of a broken-down car.
Empathy Requires Experience: Fiction and non-fiction alike rely on the writer’s ability to understand the human condition. If you don’t engage with the world, your characters become flat and your philosophy becomes theoretical. To write with depth, you must allow yourself to be hurt, surprised, and changed by the world outside your desk.
Part III: Finding the Equilibrium
How do we balance the need for the solitude of the page with the need for the chaos of the street?
Immerse to Write: Give yourself periods of “active intake.” Read, travel, listen to podcasts, or volunteer. Make your life “messy” enough to give you something to analyse.
Withdraw to Create: Set non-negotiable windows of time where the world is locked out. Use this time to distil what you’ve gathered.
The Feedback Loop: Treat your life as research. When you are living, look for the “story”—what is the core emotion of this interaction? When you are writing, look for the “truth”—does this sentence reflect the way I truly feel, or is it just a cliché?
The Final Word
Françoise Sagan understood that a writer who stops living becomes a technician, and a person who stops writing becomes a passive observer of their own life.
To live well, you must synthesise your experience into meaning. To write well, you must be brave enough to step out into the world and get your boots dirty. So, go out and live a life worth writing about—then come home and put it on the page.
Are you struggling to balance your creative output with your daily life? Share your thoughts on how you keep your “well” full in the comments below.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 