Tag: Thoughts

The Cinema of My Dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 53

We have a suspect

…

Alberto Dicostini.

I sent the name over to Albert and within an hour he sent back what might have been a yard of archive shelf space in files.  He was the head of a rival winery and hadn’t lived up to the hype riding on the coattails of his former business partner.  Wrong land, wrong grape varieties, and poor harvests had battered his reputation, and getting a hold of the Burkehardt’s winery would solve all his problems.

And surprise, surprise, he was the brother of Anna Dicostini.  Before he fell out with the count and went his own way, he had been happy to see his sister marry his business partner, a way of cementing relations between the two, and gaining recognition for the small winery his family owned and ran.  He started out dirt poor and made the most of every opportunity, created others in ways that could be almost construed as criminal, and almost ended up where he started.

All this was about, pure and simple, though not necessarily the people I first thought were the protagonists, was a feud, and feuds between hot-blooded families were often deadly.

We didn’t have a lot of time to put the Dicostini family under surveillance, but I was betting he had the Countess and Mrs Rodby somewhere on one of his properties.  That was the latest request to the research team, and I hoped they would get back to me before the morning arrived.

Then we’d only have the whole day to find the missing sisters.  If they were in the area.  If they were not, then I was not sure what I was going to do.  Dicostini could hardly let them live, because the countess would have to know who it was that kidnapped her.

If they were not already dead.

That led to another message, sent to Rody, asking him to pull whatever diplomatic strings he had in the Foreign Office to get the Italian police or equivalent to MI5 to intervene in the will signing and have it postponed for a week.  We needed more time to run surveillance on Dicostini.

I had no doubt, with his wife’s life in the balance, he could pull a few stings, or call in a favour or two, and make it happen.

And, of course, there was always one more phone call.  This time to Alfie who was hardly polite given the run around we had given him back in London.

After he vested his spleen, I asked him if it was possible to use my cell phone to clone three others if I was close enough, in order to hear their calls and read their text messages.

It was a simple question.

Ten minutes of tech speak, and time to download a special app on my phone, he said yes.  I told him to be available in the morning.

He said, quite stiffly, he was always available.

It was a bridge I would have to men, sooner rather than later.

I had managed to obtain several bottles of Burkehardt’s famous red wine and had opened one with Cecelia.  Francesca was not feeling too hospitable and had stayed in one of the other rooms.

She seemed interested when I related some of the details of my conversation with the older countess, and no doubt she was relating that to her employer and getting further instructions.

I didn’t realise Cecelia was a wine connoisseur.  Violetta had been, she had a nose for such things, and she was Italian too.  It helped.

“Nice drop.  Now, tell me the real story.”

She had noticed the obvious omissions, like who our target tomorrow was going to be.

“We have another surveillance job, and I’m hoping we’re not going to be spread thin.  It won’t help to tell Francesca because her employer will put two and two together and join the party.”

“If they go and ask to old lady themselves, she’ll tell them.”

“A calculated risk, but it is what it is. My guess, the two sisters are being held at one of their properties.  It would be too easy to think they would be at the main residence.”

“Some crooks are stupid.”

“Sometimes.  We’re not going to be that lucky.”  My cell phone blipped. 

So did hers.

“A list of properties, a dozen.  Two are not in use, just a building on a plot where they vines are being replanted.  I’m not an expert but if they failed once, won’t they again?”

I shrugged.  From the many visits I made of the wineries all over Tuscany with Violetta, I was amazed anything grew in the rocky soils.  “Keep that in mind when we go check them out.”

There was more on the Dicostini, and coroner reports on the death of the Count senior, and the Count junior that would be my nightly read before bed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.  I took the bed near the window.  Try not to trip over when you come in.  I don’t like being woken.”

I shook my head.  Last time I tripped over her shoes, tossed on the floor in the way and it woke her.  Just the thought of it sent shivers down my spine.

By the time I fell asleep, and no I made it into bed without tripping over anything, I had come to the conclusion that the old lady might be right, her husband and her son might have been killed.

It was something I would investigate after I sorted out Rodby’s problem.

As much as I tried not to, the last person I thought of before going to sleep was Juliet.  There was something about her that contradicted everything that I knew about her.

I was not sure why, but I got the feeling running into her again in Venice might not have been simply because of Larry.

© Charles Heath 2023

Writing a book in 365 days – My Story 5

Day – 39a

Once again, I can go back to planning for my story.

Where?

The description he’s given is a small country that used to be a French colony, but in this day and age, colonialism is frowned upon.

It’s run by an installed president, you know, the sort the CIA prop up, one who takes all the money and keeps it himself, or shares with his puppet government, a country where it’s chief of police is a Frenchman, where the head of the military is the one who really runs the country, along with his secret police.

An interesting set of characters.

So, nothing like having a human rights conference in the middle of a country that abuses human rights.

It’s in the Middle East, tucked away near all those interesting countries like Iraq, Iran, and Egypt, one that is strategic for the superpowers to nurture.

And somewhere in the country, the previous opposition leader, and human rights campaigner, an old man who was arrested by the regime and no one knows where they’re holding him.

The British, the Americans, and the Russians all want to ingratiate themselves so there will be a little currying favour going on during the conference.

Yes, diplomats, and others, use the cover of the conference to make overtures.

Our protagonist…

He’s there to watch over the conference headliner, a woman he used to date way back before he became a spy.  His mission though, is to do it so she doesn’t know he’s there.

And let’s throw in a wildcard, the woman’s daughter who is as angelic as she is feisty, a girl he meets before he knows who she is.

So, one more thing before we get to set the scene, he needs an occupation, one that can take him anywhere and everywhere, a profession that rarely brings attention, or someone more than is bargained for.

Yes, he’s a reporter. This is a credible profession in which he is known and has verifiable articles that can be found and read. Yes, he can write.

I like to think that at the end of his useful life, there will be a book or two to supplement the pension.

…

© Charles Heath  2025

Writing a book in 365 days – My Story 5

Day – 39a

Once again, I can go back to planning for my story.

Where?

The description he’s given is a small country that used to be a French colony, but in this day and age, colonialism is frowned upon.

It’s run by an installed president, you know, the sort the CIA prop up, one who takes all the money and keeps it himself, or shares with his puppet government, a country where it’s chief of police is a Frenchman, where the head of the military is the one who really runs the country, along with his secret police.

An interesting set of characters.

So, nothing like having a human rights conference in the middle of a country that abuses human rights.

It’s in the Middle East, tucked away near all those interesting countries like Iraq, Iran, and Egypt, one that is strategic for the superpowers to nurture.

And somewhere in the country, the previous opposition leader, and human rights campaigner, an old man who was arrested by the regime and no one knows where they’re holding him.

The British, the Americans, and the Russians all want to ingratiate themselves so there will be a little currying favour going on during the conference.

Yes, diplomats, and others, use the cover of the conference to make overtures.

Our protagonist…

He’s there to watch over the conference headliner, a woman he used to date way back before he became a spy.  His mission though, is to do it so she doesn’t know he’s there.

And let’s throw in a wildcard, the woman’s daughter who is as angelic as she is feisty, a girl he meets before he knows who she is.

So, one more thing before we get to set the scene, he needs an occupation, one that can take him anywhere and everywhere, a profession that rarely brings attention, or someone more than is bargained for.

Yes, he’s a reporter. This is a credible profession in which he is known and has verifiable articles that can be found and read. Yes, he can write.

I like to think that at the end of his useful life, there will be a book or two to supplement the pension.

…

© Charles Heath  2025

Writing a book in 365 days – 38

Day 38

Today’s trick of the trade dovetails very neatly with the previous day’s exploration of keeping the reader’s attention.

This time it is about not writing flowery prose. Perhaps you might know it by another name, writing about the background, the location, characters, anything but advance the story.

Here’s the thing.

Most readers get bored with flowery prose.

Of course, it is always a matter of opinion what is flowery prose and what isn’t, but I find that sometimes a detailed description of the place and time will match the mood and temperament of the characters.

Thus, a day could be very hot, then training, and then steaming, and a character could be sweating profusely, getting soaking wet, and then getting all steamed up, and not necessarily because it’s wet and hot.

Readers, as writers, need their senses stimulated in time to the cadence of the novel. We’ve been there. and sometimes it’s nice to read about someone who is, after all, like us. We don’t want all our characters to be beyond our reach or comprehension.

Just the same as a description of our characters, who has;t had the typical school mistress, tracking nun who is a monster, teacher who was a disciplinarian, or a friend who stabbed us in the back, or who we thought was a friend.

Descriptions yes, flowery maybe, but necessary, yes.

What I learned about writing – Do not write flowery prose

Day 38

Today’s trick of the trade dovetails very neatly with the previous day’s exploration of keeping the reader’s attention.

This time it is about not writing flowery prose. Perhaps you might know it by another name, writing about the background, the location, characters, anything but advance the story.

Here’s the thing.

Most readers get bored with flowery prose.

Of course, it is always a matter of opinion what is flowery prose and what isn’t, but I find that sometimes a detailed description of the place and time will match the mood and temperament of the characters.

Thus, a day could be very hot, then training, and then steaming, and a character could be sweating profusely, getting soaking wet, and then getting all steamed up, and not necessarily because it’s wet and hot.

Readers, as writers, need their senses stimulated in time to the cadence of the novel. We’ve been there. and sometimes it’s nice to read about someone who is, after all, like us. We don’t want all our characters to be beyond our reach or comprehension.

Just the same as a description of our characters, who has;t had the typical school mistress, tracking nun who is a monster, teacher who was a disciplinarian, or a friend who stabbed us in the back, or who we thought was a friend.

Descriptions yes, flowery maybe, but necessary, yes.

Writing a book in 365 days – 37

Day 37

We’re back to words of wisdom, in which the true writer has nothing to say, what counts is the way he says it.

Does this mean everything we write must be compelling? Certainly, that remark I once read on the front of a thriller novel I once bought simply because of it, holds true. The remark, “Grabs the reader by the scruff of the neck and drags them through to the last crowded page”.

And oddly enough it was true, I read the book in a single sitting.

It also lit the fire under me to write spy novels, too.

I’m guessing that the whole reason behind the simple few words is to make us writers sit up and think about how we’re going to engage the reader.

I read a lot, and it’s generally the first few pages that will draw me in or turn me off. I had written quite a few stories, and it took me a while to realise that boring introductory stuff can be spread sparingly through the pages, whilst all the edge-of-the-seat stuff is going on around it.

I call it writing the James Bond start, that from the first sentence you’ve been dropped into an erupting volcano, and you’ve got about fifteen seconds to work out how to get out of it. Of course, there is that circling helicopter gunship firing machine guns at you at the same time, shredding the parachute that just caught fire.

It’s why, going way back in cinema land in the previous century, the serials that ran before the main picture always had a cliffhanger ending.

The same should apply, in a sense, to the story, always leaving it in such a way that the reader has to read on.

I try.

Writing a book in 365 days – 37

Day 37

We’re back to words of wisdom, in which the true writer has nothing to say, what counts is the way he says it.

Does this mean everything we write must be compelling? Certainly, that remark I once read on the front of a thriller novel I once bought simply because of it, holds true. The remark, “Grabs the reader by the scruff of the neck and drags them through to the last crowded page”.

And oddly enough it was true, I read the book in a single sitting.

It also lit the fire under me to write spy novels, too.

I’m guessing that the whole reason behind the simple few words is to make us writers sit up and think about how we’re going to engage the reader.

I read a lot, and it’s generally the first few pages that will draw me in or turn me off. I had written quite a few stories, and it took me a while to realise that boring introductory stuff can be spread sparingly through the pages, whilst all the edge-of-the-seat stuff is going on around it.

I call it writing the James Bond start, that from the first sentence you’ve been dropped into an erupting volcano, and you’ve got about fifteen seconds to work out how to get out of it. Of course, there is that circling helicopter gunship firing machine guns at you at the same time, shredding the parachute that just caught fire.

It’s why, going way back in cinema land in the previous century, the serials that ran before the main picture always had a cliffhanger ending.

The same should apply, in a sense, to the story, always leaving it in such a way that the reader has to read on.

I try.

The Cinema of My Dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 50

Arrival in Sorrento

…

We didn’t have to wait that long to see what our tail did, he simply sped up and drove off, perhaps satisfied he had been made, and knew we were going to ditch him before we got to our eventual destination.

It would be hard for him to guess where we were going, so that meant that he would arrange for someone to pick us up as we came into the city, or after.

After all, he knew what car I was travelling in, and he knew what we looked like.  Which is why we stopped briefly in Naples and changed cars and clothes.

Then, by a quirk of fate, we saw him again, parked on the side of the road, near Pompei, waiting.  He had been hidden behind several trucks, but at the last minute on of the trucks moved, and I saw the car.

And there he sat, not assuming we would be smart enough to change cars.  What was it Rodby said from time to time?  Good help is hard to find.

I had no doubt the moment he reported in, that other arrangements were not already underway.  If they were smart, they’d know what my destination was, the home of the Burkehardt’s up in the hills that overlooked the Mediterranean, with billion-dollar views, nestled in among the exclusive and very expensive resorts.

Cecelia had booked on and it was where she had been relaxing in what time she had away from surveillance.  She was at the hotel when I called, and we arrived there a half hour later.

I’d already forewarned her about my new shadow.

She met us down in the foyer, gave Francesca her ‘don’t mess with me, or else’ scowl, and then took us up to the room.  It was amazing, and I would probably never be able to afford to stay in a room, or place, like it if I had to pay for it myself.

Francesca was suitably impressed.  “How much had you got on your expense account.  I can barely buy a sandwich with mine.”

“Normally we don’t either, but this is a ‘by all means available’ mission.”

She gave me a blank look, and I didn’t have the time or inclination to explain it to her.  We would not be seeing her again after this.

“I trust your charges are behaving themselves selves and remaining anonymous,” I asked her, after sitting down with a bottle of wine and three glasses, and we’d all taken a separate chair each.

“No.  You didn’t expect them to stay in the room, despite the fact someone is trying to kill them.  I’m not their nursemaid.  They want to get killed they can.”

I frowned at her.  We were supposed to be keeping them alive.  I suppose learning they were fakes didn’t help.  Vittoria and Juliet weren’t, or at least I hope they weren’t, but the jury was still out on that.

I was going back to see them after I spoke to the Burkehardt matriarch.  Or maybe I would talk to Juliet again.  I couldn’t believe that everything I did seemed to involve her, and I was hoping the universe wasn’t trying to tell me something.

“Who are these people again,” Francesca asked.

“Didn’t you tell her?”  Cecelia looked at me.

“No.  Relevance?”

“None,” she looked at Francesca.  “A woman called Vittoria who was a maid at the house I’ve been watching for that last day or so and her daughter Juliet are supposed to be keeping a low profile.  It appears Juliet might be another direct descendant of the Count’s.  I’m surprised your employers didn’t tell you of her?”

“They mentioned the possibility of another heir.  They just didn’t know who or where she was.  She’s here, you say?”

“Yes.  I hope they’re safe, and, no, we’re not telling you where they are.  Not until we know your employers, whom I’m assuming are the Burkehardt’s, are not trying to kill her.”

“I assure you that neither am I, and I work for the investigations company, not the Burkehardt’s.  I can only take orders from my boss.  He was very clear about that.”

“Good.  I’d hate to have to shoot you because you lied.”

I could see she meant what she said.  I hoped Francesca did too.  She seemed to brush that threat aside.

“What about the countess?”

“That’s the bigger question, where is she?  We’d like to know so if you have any ideas, please share.  For this dynamic to work, you must be willing to share information.  It’s not going to be a one-way street.”

“So, you don’t know where the countess is?”

Cecelia looked at me. 

“Inquisitive little bugger, isn’t she?  Don’t make it so obvious you want to know.  Didn’t your boss tell you; that you must be subtle when approaching people like us, people with more experience, and less of a conscience.

Francesca looked at me.

“Don’t think I won’t stop you if you get in the way.  You can stay while it is useful to us, but don’t ask questions you know we’re not going to give you answers for.”

“Then I’ll assume you don’t know where she is, other than most likely in Sorrento, waiting for the meeting.”

“Good assessment.”

© Charles Heath 2023

Writing a book in 365 days – 36

Day 36

Today we’re tackling the subject of reference books for writers, the sort that teach us the rudiments of grammar, style, how-to, and how not to write.

Short of getting a complete idiot’s guide, which may or may not help, the sort of books that tell you how to write a novel in a week, month, or year may be equally as amusing. it may have worked for the author, but when it comes to another individual, I’m not so sure it helps.

For me, I collected a wide range of how-to and references to aid in writing and read a great many articles in magazines, all of which helped in small ways. I kept my own references, and out of those notes are bits and pieces I add to my blog for people to read or ignore as they wish.

No one ever likes the idea of being told what to do, except when it comes to a publisher’s editor because in the end we all want our book published and to hold that final product in our hands and say, I did that.

As a magazine, I find Writer’s Digest is quite good if it is still published. I used to get it, but the subscription lapsed a few years back. Others are Poets and Writers, and The Paris Review.

Books that I found useful, A Style Manual, Self Editing for fiction writers, A Compendium of Good Writing, the Oxford Essential Guide to Writing, and quite a collection of dictionaries and thesauruses, the best of which is the Oxford Shorter Dictionary, though how the word shot got in the title is beyond me.

And then there are the obligatory books on writing by famous authors such as Stephen King and Patricia Highsmith just to name two.

Writing a book in 365 days – 36

Day 36

Today we’re tackling the subject of reference books for writers, the sort that teach us the rudiments of grammar, style, how-to, and how not to write.

Short of getting a complete idiot’s guide, which may or may not help, the sort of books that tell you how to write a novel in a week, month, or year may be equally as amusing. it may have worked for the author, but when it comes to another individual, I’m not so sure it helps.

For me, I collected a wide range of how-to and references to aid in writing and read a great many articles in magazines, all of which helped in small ways. I kept my own references, and out of those notes are bits and pieces I add to my blog for people to read or ignore as they wish.

No one ever likes the idea of being told what to do, except when it comes to a publisher’s editor because in the end we all want our book published and to hold that final product in our hands and say, I did that.

As a magazine, I find Writer’s Digest is quite good if it is still published. I used to get it, but the subscription lapsed a few years back. Others are Poets and Writers, and The Paris Review.

Books that I found useful, A Style Manual, Self Editing for fiction writers, A Compendium of Good Writing, the Oxford Essential Guide to Writing, and quite a collection of dictionaries and thesauruses, the best of which is the Oxford Shorter Dictionary, though how the word shot got in the title is beyond me.

And then there are the obligatory books on writing by famous authors such as Stephen King and Patricia Highsmith just to name two.