Tag: Creative Writing

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 2

I’m sitting at my desk surrounded by any number of scraps of paper with more storylines, written excerpts, parts of stories, and a number of chapters of a work in progress.

Does this happen to anyone else?

The business of writing requires a talent to keep focused on the one project and silence all the other screaming voices in your head, pouring out their side of the story.

But it’s not working.

I try to be determined in my efforts to edit my current completed novel, after letting it ‘rest’ in my head for a few months.

I planned to have some time off, but all of those prisoners in my head started clamouring for my attention.  A story I started some time ago needs revising, another story I wrote last year for NANOWRIMO has come back to haunt me, and characters, well, they’re out in the waiting room, pacing up and down, ready to tell me their life stories.

Is the temporary cure coffee or wine?

Now I think I really do need a holiday

Or a trip to the asylum.  Thank God this is not the early 20th century, or I might never return.  And if it’s named Bellview, it would be just another story to be written.

The author who went Bonkers!

And that spy who’s at the end of his tether, just think James Bond movie full on action start and you’ve got the first chapter done!

Does it ever end?

 

 

 

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 2

I’m sitting at my desk surrounded by any number of scraps of paper with more storylines, written excerpts, parts of stories, and a number of chapters of a work in progress.

Does this happen to anyone else?

The business of writing requires a talent to keep focused on the one project and silence all the other screaming voices in your head, pouring out their side of the story.

But it’s not working.

I try to be determined in my efforts to edit my current completed novel, after letting it ‘rest’ in my head for a few months.

I planned to have some time off, but all of those prisoners in my head started clamouring for my attention.  A story I started some time ago needs revising, another story I wrote last year for NANOWRIMO has come back to haunt me, and characters, well, they’re out in the waiting room, pacing up and down, ready to tell me their life stories.

Is the temporary cure coffee or wine?

Now I think I really do need a holiday

Or a trip to the asylum.  Thank God this is not the early 20th century, or I might never return.  And if it’s named Bellview, it would be just another story to be written.

The author who went Bonkers!

And that spy who’s at the end of his tether, just think James Bond movie full on action start and you’ve got the first chapter done!

Does it ever end?

 

 

 

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 1

I’m supposed to be writing my quota of words for NaNoWriMo, but there’s a problem.

After a late night, the Maple Leafs are playing the Philadelphia Flyers at 9 am our time, Brisbane, so I’ve got to get up and put it on.

And yes, the usual problem crops up: the internet is running slowly, and connecting to the live feed is traumatic. It starts working, just in time for the national anthems, and once again, we can hear that of our adopted country, Canada.

Then we get to see the first few minutes before the internet dies. What can you expect when the government takes on a huge infrastructure project? Delays, cost overruns, and compromises are expected as it looks to rein in costs. Result: an internet that’s utter crap.

We get to see parts of the first period, none of the second. I call my daughter, who’s as invested in ice hockey as we are, and she tells us she’s using a different host. We change, and it all comes good, so much so we get to see the last period, the overtime, and then an exemplary bout of goalkeeping from Frederick Anderson, opps, sorry, he’s moved on, and it’s someone else, to win us the game in the shootout.

By that time it’s afternoon.

Time for writing? No. I have to make some meatball pasta with spaghetti for tonight.

That consumes the next couple of hours.

Perhaps it’s for the best. I’ve got a title and a few scribbled notes about a tired spy, and never being let off the hook. Getting that start, sometimes, is harder than the next 400 pages. As for words written, maybe later.

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 1

I’m supposed to be writing my quota of words for NaNoWriMo, but there’s a problem.

After a late night, the Maple Leafs are playing the Philadelphia Flyers at 9 am our time, Brisbane, so I’ve got to get up and put it on.

And yes, the usual problem crops up: the internet is running slowly, and connecting to the live feed is traumatic. It starts working, just in time for the national anthems, and once again, we can hear that of our adopted country, Canada.

Then we get to see the first few minutes before the internet dies. What can you expect when the government takes on a huge infrastructure project? Delays, cost overruns, and compromises are expected as it looks to rein in costs. Result: an internet that’s utter crap.

We get to see parts of the first period, none of the second. I call my daughter, who’s as invested in ice hockey as we are, and she tells us she’s using a different host. We change, and it all comes good, so much so we get to see the last period, the overtime, and then an exemplary bout of goalkeeping from Frederick Anderson, opps, sorry, he’s moved on, and it’s someone else, to win us the game in the shootout.

By that time it’s afternoon.

Time for writing? No. I have to make some meatball pasta with spaghetti for tonight.

That consumes the next couple of hours.

Perhaps it’s for the best. I’ve got a title and a few scribbled notes about a tired spy, and never being let off the hook. Getting that start, sometimes, is harder than the next 400 pages. As for words written, maybe later.

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to write a war story – Episode 55

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

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

And, so, it continues…

…

We were not leaving the castle the way we had found it, but we would blame the Germans.  Carlo understood because he was the one who had selectively destroyed parts of it, but I knew after we’d gone, he would blame us.

When Carlo discovered the empty cells below in the dungeons, he and the boy went back outside and looked for them.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Wallace would have ordered them removed and executed because Meyer had been the objective and everything else was a distraction.

Two of Blinky’s soldiers were assigned to bring back Chiara.

Blinky and the rest of his men moved into better quarters and had their first real meal in a week.  We posted sentries, but I didn’t think any Germans would be coming to see what happened.  The sentries were more to tell us when Meyer and his escort arrived.

Blinky would then be the official escort for Meyer back to England.  A plane was on standby waiting for our signal.

Several hours after Carlo left, he returned with Martina and Johanneson, the latter looking very worse for wear.

The last of the traitors.

Carlo shoved him into a chair and bound him very tightly.

“We found the prisoners, all shot.  Fernando’s remnants killed them.  I will make it my business to find every last one of them.  What do you want to do with this traitor?”  He nodded in Johannesen’s direction.

Martina had slumped into a chair.  She still wore the very recent scars of a severe beating and was out on her feet.  Despite that, I got the impression she was glad to be alive.

“Was he responsible for anything that happened while you were in the cells?” I asked her.

“He saved me if that could be called an act of kindness.  He did nothing to save the others.”

“If you had a choice?”

“I’d shoot him.”

“Now hang on.  Since when did good Samaritans get punished?”  Johannesen was outraged.

I shrugged.  “You will be judged on past sins.”

Martina looked up.  “He was the leader of the group that destroyed the church.  It was our original headquarters, down in the basement.  We managed to get away, with a few injuries, but it took out our equipment and radio.”

“There,” he said.  “My intention was destroying infrastructure not lives.”

“Coincidental.”

I got up and walked over to Martina and gave her my gun.  “I’ve done enough killing for today.  Perhaps a small token of retribution for those lost.”

“Chiara?”

“She will be here shortly.  We found her just in time.”

“Thank God for that.”

I don’t think she had it in her to enjoy the moment she executed Johannesen, I don’t think it was worth celebrating a death, more lamenting the loss of yet another person in a war that seemed to be dragging on.

At least he accepted his fate and didn’t plead for his life.

It was mission accomplished.

Blinky’s radioman finally reconnected with Thompson and told him that we were awaiting the arrival of Meyer and that he could tell those up the pipeline it was safe to bring him to the village.  He would then signal when the plane was in the air.  Thompson was pleased enough to give me a ticket back to London.  All we had to do was collect Meyer.

That was Carlo and my job, and for the last time, I went back down into the village and waited.

I was not sure who was more relieved, Meyer or myself.  I’d met him once before the war, at a University in Hamburg where he was working on a top-secret project, and I was studying the archaeology of some old castles nearby.

I’d been tasked to find out what he was doing, my rather bright future in archaeology was never going to take off in those dark months that followed Chamberlain’s peace treaty.  Everyone but him seemed to know that war was inevitable.

He’d spent time telling me about the stars and planets, and how wonderful it would be to visit them one day in the not-too-distant future.  From that, we inferred that the Germans were working on space travel, though you never really could tell what they were up to.

It simply meant if things went bad, we needed to touch base every now and then with Meyer, which I did, in a friendly manner and never directly asking what he was up to.  That contact had paid off, and he had made contact asking me if it was possible to come live in England.

Thompson had been very pleased.

“Herr Atherton,” he said, rather relieved to see me.

“Herr Meyer.”

We shook hands, and then he hugged me like an old friend would.  “You came.”

“You asked.  I do my best?”

“We leave now?’

“We very definitely leave now.”

I left Carlo with the escorts to explain the new arrangements, far away from the castle, and I took Meyer back to the castle.  Along the way we talked, not of rockets and death, but of old times in Berlin, and how Germany used to be before this crazy person called Hitler had sent them down the path to self-destruction.

Perhaps, he said, one day he might be able to return.

I hoped I would not, not until the war ended, but that being a forlorn hope, not until I had a very long, well-earned rest.

But this was Thompson we were talking about, and his favourite saying was ‘There’s no rest for the wicked’.

…

© Charles Heath 2021-2023