Tag: Writer

Writing a book in 365 days – My Story 33

More about my story – the Commissioner of Police, Delacrat

…

Beneath the Uniform: The Quiet Rebellion in a Tyrant’s Shadow

In a world suffocated by the heavy hand of dictatorship, where every whisper is monitored and every shadow holds a threat, true heroism often wears a disguise. It doesn’t always roar from the barricades; sometimes, it sits in silence, biding its time, hidden in plain sight.

Meet Chief Superintendent Delacrat. On the surface, he is the unwavering head of the nation’s regular police department, a pillar of the system. He upholds the law, maintains order, and presents an image of stern, unyielding authority. But behind the impeccable uniform and the steady gaze lies a burning secret: Delacrat is a profoundly fair and honest man, a moral compass tragically misaligned with the corrupt regime he serves.

His days are a constant torment. He sees the reports, hears the whispers, and feels the tremors of fear that ripple through the populace. He knows all too well the true architects of this fear: the Secret Police. A shadowy organization, led by a truly monstrous figure, their ranks are filled with brutal ex-soldiers, perfectly trained in the art of terror. They perpetrate unspeakable crimes against their own people – disappearances, torture, summary executions – all in the name of “state security.” Delacrat knows every single atrocity, every injustice, and the helplessness to intervene eats at his very soul. Yet.

That “yet” is the silent promise of a coming dawn. For Chief Superintendent Delacrat is not merely an observer of injustice; he is a quiet architect of change. Deep in the shadows, he has forged a perilous alliance with the revolutionary forces, the very people the regime seeks to crush. He moves with calculated precision, gathering intelligence, making strategic delays, and preparing for the inevitable. When the day of reckoning arrives, when the fight to reclaim their country explodes into the open, Delacrat has a specific, vital role to play – a role that only a man in his unique position could execute, a role that could tip the scales of destiny.

And then, there’s Willoughby. An outsider, he arrives in this subjugated nation for reasons entirely unrelated to its internal turmoil. Perhaps he’s an academic, an engineer, or a diplomat with a seemingly innocuous mission. But in the grand, dangerous chess game unfolding, Willoughby’s arrival proves to be an unexpected boon. With a skill set or an uncanny knack for navigating the complex web of power and resistance, he is quickly identified as a useful assistant, an unwitting (or perhaps eventually very willing) pawn who can help get the job done.

The fuse is lit. The pieces are moving into place. In the heart of a broken country, a good man in a bad uniform, an unexpected visitor, and a desperate revolution are converging. The question isn’t if the storm will break, but when, and what will remain when the dust settles, when justice finally demands its due.

“The Things we do for Love”, the story behind the story

This story has been ongoing since I was seventeen, and just to let you know, I’m 71 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.

A long short story that can’t be tamed – I always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress – 7

Seven

If I had deliberately wanted to flush out the people following us, and eventually lose them, I would never have thought of renting a car at a suburban shop.  I had to wonder what James Bond would have done in similar circumstances.

But it worked.

Driving out of the carpark onto the main street, it wasn’t difficult to see several people caught unawares.  And on their cell phones making calls.

And it was Emily’s last-minute brainwave to cover the car’s registration plates so if they were to take a photo, they would not be able to track it.  Well, not straight away.  It was she who said London had a lot of CCTV cameras, but on the way to the carpark, she had checked out where they were, those that she could readily identify, and we could avoid.

Something I learned about Emily that I didn’t know; she was a computer nerd, and a hacker of sorts, not one of those dark web experts, but she knew enough to dig around in places most people wouldn’t go looking.

That skill might just come in useful.

And, for a few minutes, maybe an hour, we revelled in the thought we may have outwitted them, whoever ‘them’ was.

It was late afternoon when we finally found a hotel with a carpark, a long way from Cecile’s flat in Earl’s Court, and on the other side of the Greater London region in Mile End Road, not very far from Stepney Green underground station, the result of Emily searching the web for a hotel with a carpark, and near public transport.

She also had our luggage delivered from the airport a little less than two hours from the moment she made the call.  I think I may have remarked that I might just employ her as my travel agent when I started my European odyssey, but she had fallen asleep, way past exhausted.

I wasn’t far behind her.  We had a long day tomorrow if today was anything to go by.

I woke to the smell of coffee and that more interesting aroma of burnt toast.

There were shopping bags on the table, and it looked as though Emily had been up and around for a while.

I looked at my watch, it was not much past seven, and not an hour I found myself up back home.  I had an apartment in the city, and it was a ten-minute walk to the office, so early rising was not a necessity.  My parents lived in the suburbs, and more than an hour by public transport, and two by car.  It was the reason I moved.  I didn’t want to spend a quarter of my life travelling to and from work.

Of course, London was so much larger than where I came from, and definitely not a place I would want to live, or work, despite the advantages that Cecile had tried to impress upon me.  And don’t get me get started on driving around London.  Yesterday had been harrowing, and left me, at times, shaken.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Emily put a coffee plunger on the table, two cups, a plate of toast, bowls, and the cereal that was my favourite, though how she knew was anyone’s guess.

“You’ve been busy.”

“I like to get some exercise every morning, so I combined it with a shopping expedition

I had not attended this type of domesticity in a long time, at least not since I left home.  I had grown accustomed to being on my own, and that might have contributed to Cecile and I drifting apart.  It probably also had a lot to do with my awkwardness with girls, and rather than try to get over it, I just avoided them.

But, somehow, Emily was different, perhaps because she was younger and hadn’t been blunted by the vicissitudes of life.  She had finished school, and as far as I was aware, didn’t have a real job, preferring to spend her time pottering in her father’s office.

I had thought, much like in an 18th century romance novel, she was waiting for the right man to marry, but there were not too many of those running around these days.

Something else I just realised; how well I seemed to like being at ease in her company, much more so than when I was with Cecile, always on my guard not to say or do the wrong thing.

“I find going to a grocery store a trial, which is why I eat out a lot.”

She shook her head.  “You’re just lazy, like everyone else your age.  Convenience over practicality.  And you should think about doing some exercise.”

I could feel the eyes of the appraiser upon me and shivered.  It was good that I could not read her thoughts, but if I could, perhaps some might be considering those extra pounds that had found their way onto my frame after I stopped playing tennis and squash.

“I promise I’ll think about it.”

“Better still, I don’t think it’s all that safe to be jogging the streets in this neighbourhood early in the morning, so you can come with me as my protector.”

She saw my look of disdain, or was it the thought of having to exercise.

“Cheer up, I don’t go very fast.”

The sound of the phone vibrating on the table interrupted that thought, and conversation.

It was a private number, so I assumed it was the man from the day before.

“Yes?”

“Trafalgar Square, by the column, 12:30 pm today.”

It was the man’s voice.

“We’ll see you there.”

The call was disconnected.  Short and to the point.

“We have a lunch date.”

Before I could reach out to pick up my cup of coffee, the phone rang again.

Also a private number, I assumed it was the man ringing back with a change of plans.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

A woman’s voice this time, not one that was familiar.

“About what?”  I was surprised and didn’t have time to work on a better comeback.

“Your Cecile.  She is over her head.”

Aside from stating the obvious, who was this woman, how did she know about Cecile, and more importantly, how did she know my cell number?

“Who the hell are you?”

“The London end of the team that recruited her.  Time is of the essence, so we’ll come to you.  We’ll be there in half an hour.”

That line went dead before I could ask another pertinent question, how did she know where we were?

“Who was that?”  Emily had been oblivious to the turmoil I was feeling.

“Someone else who wants to talk about Cecile.”

“Who?”

“No idea, but the word reruited popped up, whatever that might mean.”

“Here?  No one knows we’re here.”

“Exactly.”

“Perhaps we should leave, like, right now.”

“No.  I have a feeling that we might find out what Cecile is up to.”

And, in the back of my mind, several small, associated details clicked into place.  At the time they didn’t make any sense, but now, in a bigger context, and given the circumstances, I think I knew now why she had come.

And, more importantly, I realised she had been dropping breadcrumbs for me to follow long before she had left.

…

©  Charles Heath  2024

Writing a book in 365 days – 220

Day 220

How to pitch a story to a prospective publisher

…

From Spark to Submission: Unearthing Your Story’s Soul & Crafting the Perfect Publisher Pitch

You did it. You poured your heart, soul, and countless hours onto the page. You wrestled with characters, built worlds, shaped narratives, and perhaps, finally, typed “The End.” That’s a monumental achievement in itself. But for many writers, the real work, or at least the most daunting, begins after the last word is written: the journey from manuscript to published book.

This journey often involves two critical questions:

  1. What is your story really about?
  2. How do you pitch it to a publisher (or agent)?

Let’s dive in.

What is Your Story Really About? Beyond the Plot

This might seem like a simple question. “It’s about a wizard who goes on a quest!” or “It’s a memoir about overcoming a difficult childhood.” But a publisher (or agent) wants to know more than just the surface plot. They want to understand the heart, the hook, the unique selling proposition of your book.

Think of it as distilling your entire manuscript into a potent, irresistible essence.

Here’s how to dig deeper:

  1. The Core Conflict & Stakes: What is the central problem your protagonist faces? What will they lose if they fail? What will they gain if they succeed? The higher the stakes, the more compelling the story.
    • Example: Instead of “A wizard goes on a quest,” try: “A reluctant wizard must retrieve a mythical artifact to prevent a shadow realm from consuming his world, even if it means confronting the darkness within himself.”
  2. The “So What?” (Theme & Message): Beyond the events, what is your story saying? Is it about resilience, love, the corrupting nature of power, the complexities of family, the search for identity? This is the underlying universal truth that will resonate with readers long after they’ve turned the final page.
    • Ask yourself: What do I want readers to feel or think about after reading my book?
  3. The Character’s Arc: How does your protagonist change or grow throughout the story? What emotional journey do they undertake? Readers connect with characters, and compelling character arcs are the backbone of great narratives.
  4. The Unique Hook: What makes your story stand out from the thousands of others? Is it a fresh take on an old trope? A never-before-seen world? A voice unlike any other? A surprising twist? This is what will make an agent pause.
  5. The “Elevator Pitch” (Logline): Can you summarize your entire book in 1-2 sentences? This is a crucial exercise. It forces you to identify the core concept, protagonist, conflict, and stakes. Practice saying it out loud. If it doesn’t immediately grab attention, refine it.
    • Template Idea: “When [inciting incident happens to protagonist], [protagonist] must [goal/quest] before [stakes/consequences].”

Why is this important for pitching? Because an agent or editor needs to quickly grasp what your book is, why it matters, and who it’s for. If you can articulate this clearly, you’re halfway there.

Mastering the Publisher Pitch: Your Gateway Document (The Query Letter)

For fiction, and often for memoirs, the primary tool for pitching is the query letter. For non-fiction (like self-help, business, cookbooks), you’ll typically need a more extensive book proposal. Here, we’ll focus on the query letter, which serves as your book’s literary dating profile.

The Goal: To intrigue an agent (who will then pitch your book to publishers) or a publisher directly (if they accept unagented submissions) enough to request more of your manuscript.

Key Components of a Killer Query Letter:

  1. Personalization (The Research is Key):
    • Address the agent by name: “Dear Ms. Smith” or “Dear Mr. Jones.” Never “To Whom It May Concern.”
    • State why you’re contacting them: Mention a specific book they represented that resonates with yours, an interview where they expressed interest in your genre, or a conference where you heard them speak. This shows you’ve done your homework and aren’t just spamming everyone.
  2. The Hook (Your Logline in Action):
    • Start immediately with your compelling 1-2 sentence logline. This is your chance to grab their attention within the first few seconds. Make it punchy, intriguing, and hint at the core conflict.
  3. The Brief Synopsis (2-3 paragraphs):
    • This is not a chapter-by-chapter breakdown. It’s a concise, engaging summary of your book’s main plot points, character arc, and central conflict.
    • Introduce your protagonist, their world, and the inciting incident.
    • Detail the main rising action and the core struggles.
    • Crucially, do NOT reveal the ending. End on a suspenseful note that makes them want to read more. What is the climax the protagonist must face? What’s at stake?
  4. About the Author (The Credentials):
    • Keep this brief and relevant. Mention anything that lends credibility to your writing (previous publications, awards, relevant professional experience that informs the book).
    • If you have a significant author platform (large social media following, relevant professional network, speaking engagements), mention it, especially for non-fiction.
    • If you have no prior publications, that’s okay! Be honest and professional. Focus on your passion and the book itself.
  5. Comparable Titles (The “Comps”):
    • Suggest 2-3 recently published books (within the last 3-5 years) that are similar to yours in genre, tone, or target audience.
    • DO NOT compare your book to bestsellers like “The next Harry Potter” or classics like “War and Peace.”
    • Choose books that agents sold successfully. This shows you understand the current market and where your book fits.
    • Example: “My novel will appeal to readers who enjoyed the intricate world-building of [Book A] combined with the emotional depth of [Book B].”
  6. Word Count & Genre:
    • State your manuscript’s exact word count (e.g., “This standalone novel is complete at 85,000 words.”)
    • Clearly state its genre (e.g., “Young Adult Contemporary,” “Historical Fantasy,” “Literary Fiction”).
  7. The Professional Close:
    • Thank them for their time and consideration.
    • Reiterate that you’ve attached/included the requested materials (e.g., “Per your submission guidelines, I have included the first ten pages of my manuscript below.”).
    • “Sincerely,” or “All best,” followed by your full name.
    • Include your contact information (email, phone).

Common Pitfalls to Avoid:

  • Typos and Grammatical Errors: Proofread endlessly. Get others to proofread. This is your first impression.
  • Being Overly Familiar or Demanding: Maintain a professional and courteous tone.
  • Pitching an Unfinished Manuscript (for Fiction): Unless specifically requested, your fiction manuscript must be complete and polished before querying.
  • Revealing the Entire Plot/Ending: You want to entice, not summarize everything.
  • Too Long: A query letter should ideally be one page, 300-500 words maximum. Every word counts.
  • Begging or Desperation: Confidence in your work, not desperation, is attractive.
  • Not Following Guidelines: Every agent has specific submission guidelines (e.g., paste into email, attach as PDF, query form). Follow them exactly. Not doing so is an instant rejection.

The Road Ahead

Getting published is a marathon, not a sprint. It requires patience, resilience, and a thick skin. Expect rejections – they are a universal part of the process. Use them as motivation to refine your pitch, improve your manuscript, and keep learning.

Your story deserves to be heard. By understanding its true essence and mastering the art of the pitch, you’re giving it the best possible chance to find its way from your heart to a reader’s hands.

Now, tell us: What’s the very core of your story? And what’s one thing you’re most nervous about when it comes to pitching? Share in the comments below!

Writing a book in 365 days – 220

Day 220

How to pitch a story to a prospective publisher

…

From Spark to Submission: Unearthing Your Story’s Soul & Crafting the Perfect Publisher Pitch

You did it. You poured your heart, soul, and countless hours onto the page. You wrestled with characters, built worlds, shaped narratives, and perhaps, finally, typed “The End.” That’s a monumental achievement in itself. But for many writers, the real work, or at least the most daunting, begins after the last word is written: the journey from manuscript to published book.

This journey often involves two critical questions:

  1. What is your story really about?
  2. How do you pitch it to a publisher (or agent)?

Let’s dive in.

What is Your Story Really About? Beyond the Plot

This might seem like a simple question. “It’s about a wizard who goes on a quest!” or “It’s a memoir about overcoming a difficult childhood.” But a publisher (or agent) wants to know more than just the surface plot. They want to understand the heart, the hook, the unique selling proposition of your book.

Think of it as distilling your entire manuscript into a potent, irresistible essence.

Here’s how to dig deeper:

  1. The Core Conflict & Stakes: What is the central problem your protagonist faces? What will they lose if they fail? What will they gain if they succeed? The higher the stakes, the more compelling the story.
    • Example: Instead of “A wizard goes on a quest,” try: “A reluctant wizard must retrieve a mythical artifact to prevent a shadow realm from consuming his world, even if it means confronting the darkness within himself.”
  2. The “So What?” (Theme & Message): Beyond the events, what is your story saying? Is it about resilience, love, the corrupting nature of power, the complexities of family, the search for identity? This is the underlying universal truth that will resonate with readers long after they’ve turned the final page.
    • Ask yourself: What do I want readers to feel or think about after reading my book?
  3. The Character’s Arc: How does your protagonist change or grow throughout the story? What emotional journey do they undertake? Readers connect with characters, and compelling character arcs are the backbone of great narratives.
  4. The Unique Hook: What makes your story stand out from the thousands of others? Is it a fresh take on an old trope? A never-before-seen world? A voice unlike any other? A surprising twist? This is what will make an agent pause.
  5. The “Elevator Pitch” (Logline): Can you summarize your entire book in 1-2 sentences? This is a crucial exercise. It forces you to identify the core concept, protagonist, conflict, and stakes. Practice saying it out loud. If it doesn’t immediately grab attention, refine it.
    • Template Idea: “When [inciting incident happens to protagonist], [protagonist] must [goal/quest] before [stakes/consequences].”

Why is this important for pitching? Because an agent or editor needs to quickly grasp what your book is, why it matters, and who it’s for. If you can articulate this clearly, you’re halfway there.

Mastering the Publisher Pitch: Your Gateway Document (The Query Letter)

For fiction, and often for memoirs, the primary tool for pitching is the query letter. For non-fiction (like self-help, business, cookbooks), you’ll typically need a more extensive book proposal. Here, we’ll focus on the query letter, which serves as your book’s literary dating profile.

The Goal: To intrigue an agent (who will then pitch your book to publishers) or a publisher directly (if they accept unagented submissions) enough to request more of your manuscript.

Key Components of a Killer Query Letter:

  1. Personalization (The Research is Key):
    • Address the agent by name: “Dear Ms. Smith” or “Dear Mr. Jones.” Never “To Whom It May Concern.”
    • State why you’re contacting them: Mention a specific book they represented that resonates with yours, an interview where they expressed interest in your genre, or a conference where you heard them speak. This shows you’ve done your homework and aren’t just spamming everyone.
  2. The Hook (Your Logline in Action):
    • Start immediately with your compelling 1-2 sentence logline. This is your chance to grab their attention within the first few seconds. Make it punchy, intriguing, and hint at the core conflict.
  3. The Brief Synopsis (2-3 paragraphs):
    • This is not a chapter-by-chapter breakdown. It’s a concise, engaging summary of your book’s main plot points, character arc, and central conflict.
    • Introduce your protagonist, their world, and the inciting incident.
    • Detail the main rising action and the core struggles.
    • Crucially, do NOT reveal the ending. End on a suspenseful note that makes them want to read more. What is the climax the protagonist must face? What’s at stake?
  4. About the Author (The Credentials):
    • Keep this brief and relevant. Mention anything that lends credibility to your writing (previous publications, awards, relevant professional experience that informs the book).
    • If you have a significant author platform (large social media following, relevant professional network, speaking engagements), mention it, especially for non-fiction.
    • If you have no prior publications, that’s okay! Be honest and professional. Focus on your passion and the book itself.
  5. Comparable Titles (The “Comps”):
    • Suggest 2-3 recently published books (within the last 3-5 years) that are similar to yours in genre, tone, or target audience.
    • DO NOT compare your book to bestsellers like “The next Harry Potter” or classics like “War and Peace.”
    • Choose books that agents sold successfully. This shows you understand the current market and where your book fits.
    • Example: “My novel will appeal to readers who enjoyed the intricate world-building of [Book A] combined with the emotional depth of [Book B].”
  6. Word Count & Genre:
    • State your manuscript’s exact word count (e.g., “This standalone novel is complete at 85,000 words.”)
    • Clearly state its genre (e.g., “Young Adult Contemporary,” “Historical Fantasy,” “Literary Fiction”).
  7. The Professional Close:
    • Thank them for their time and consideration.
    • Reiterate that you’ve attached/included the requested materials (e.g., “Per your submission guidelines, I have included the first ten pages of my manuscript below.”).
    • “Sincerely,” or “All best,” followed by your full name.
    • Include your contact information (email, phone).

Common Pitfalls to Avoid:

  • Typos and Grammatical Errors: Proofread endlessly. Get others to proofread. This is your first impression.
  • Being Overly Familiar or Demanding: Maintain a professional and courteous tone.
  • Pitching an Unfinished Manuscript (for Fiction): Unless specifically requested, your fiction manuscript must be complete and polished before querying.
  • Revealing the Entire Plot/Ending: You want to entice, not summarize everything.
  • Too Long: A query letter should ideally be one page, 300-500 words maximum. Every word counts.
  • Begging or Desperation: Confidence in your work, not desperation, is attractive.
  • Not Following Guidelines: Every agent has specific submission guidelines (e.g., paste into email, attach as PDF, query form). Follow them exactly. Not doing so is an instant rejection.

The Road Ahead

Getting published is a marathon, not a sprint. It requires patience, resilience, and a thick skin. Expect rejections – they are a universal part of the process. Use them as motivation to refine your pitch, improve your manuscript, and keep learning.

Your story deserves to be heard. By understanding its true essence and mastering the art of the pitch, you’re giving it the best possible chance to find its way from your heart to a reader’s hands.

Now, tell us: What’s the very core of your story? And what’s one thing you’re most nervous about when it comes to pitching? Share in the comments below!

A long short story that can’t be tamed – I always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress – 6

Six

I was about to tell Emily not to open the door but for some reason, I simply stood there unable to do anything.  It was not shock or fear, but a hesitation.

Emily looked at me, perhaps for approval, then looked through the peephole in the door.

“Who is it,” I asked, finally finding a voice.

“I can’t see him clearly but it looks like the man in the pin-striped suit, that chap who got in the elevator with us.”

Why wasn’t I surprised.

“What should I do?” she asked when I hadn’t said anything.

I was not sure what to think, but from first appearances, he didn’t look like an assassin, or very dangerous, but what did I know about assassins?  Or dangerous people?  “Let me answer the door.  You stand just out of sight until we find out his intentions.”

“You don’t think…”

“I’m trying not to think right now, but please, just stand out of sight of the door, and have your phone set to call emergency, just in case.”

Another knock on the door, not impatient but nonetheless insistent, motivated her to do as I’d asked, and I took her place at the door.  When she was in place, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then opened the door.

It was, indeed, the man from the elevator.  I decided attack was the best form of defence.  “You were in the elevator.  Give me one reason why you couldn’t speak to us then?”  It came out exactly as I’d intended, a harsh tone from someone who was annoyed.

“Forgive me, but I wasn’t sure that I had the right person.” A placatory tone.

“How did you know what room to come to?”  He hadn’t followed us, or at least I didn’t think so, but he could have discreetly kept an eye on us.

“I was told you would be here.”

“By whom?”  The only person who knew we would be here was Cecile, though she could not know when.

“Your friend said you would be here.”

“Which friend?”

I could see that he was now getting impatient, his expression changing from genial to annoyance. 

“We should not be discussing this in the hotel corridor.”

“Perhaps not, but I don’t trust you, and until you tell me what this is about, the hotel corridor is where you’re staying.  I’ll ask again, which friend?”

“Cecile Battersby of course.”

Right name, but it could still be a bluff.  Her name would be in the hotel computer system, information that could be bought by a clever adversary.

“Describe her.”

“Alas, I have not met her.  I have been sent as an intermediary.  This is a rather delicate matter, and not one that I wish to discuss in the hotel corridor.”

“Then I suggest you call me when you are in the open in plain view with other people place, but it will not be here, in this room until I’m satisfied I can trust you.”

I could tell by his expression it was not the answer he was looking for.

He took out his cell phone.  “I assure you, you are in no danger from me, but if you insist.”

I gave him my number and he put it into his phone.

“You will be hearing from me soon.  Let’s hope she does not suffer because of this.”

With that cryptic remark, he left, and I closed the door.

“What do you think he meant by saying she might suffer?  Suffer what?”

“It’s just a means to try and scare us into doing something we might regret.  We have no idea who he was, or what he wanted, and I was certainly not going to let him into the room.  I’m sure we’ll soon find out.”

He might have been a public servant.  Don’t they wear pin-striped suits and carry umbrellas?

A stereotype, I thought, that everyone had of the British, but this one was lacking the third element, a bowler hat.

“Let’s wait and see.  But, in the meantime, since whoever he represents knows where we are, let’s get out of here, just in case.”

Her face registered the exact same fear level I was feeling. 

Once again, I found myself asking the impossible question, what had she got herself mixed up in?

I looked through the peep hole and saw that our section of the passage was clear.  I was taking a gamble that he’d left, and if the coast was clear, we would be leaving via the fire escape, just in case he had the elevators monitored.

I opened the door and looked up and down the corridor.  Clear.

To Emily, I said, “Let’s go.”

…

©  Charles Heath  2024

Writing a book in 365 days – 219

Day 219

Do you have a compelling need to write?

…

Some people would like to write.

Some have a genuine writing talent.

Then there is the rest of us, those who need to write.

Morning, noon, night, very late at night, on scraps of paper, on cafe napkins, in notebooks, on note apps on the phone, there is this very strange compulsion to get words on paper.

I feel it, it’s like a bug.

It’s like being in the shower and an idea hits you, when you try to think of what is going to happen next and can’t. You’re sitting there, pen in hand, gingers hovering over the keyboard, waiting, waiting, for that inspiration, and there’s nothing.

Don’t you just hate it?

All the time in the world. The writing room is sitting there, waiting for you. The cat, or the dog, has settled down on the floor and is pretending to sleep, like they know you need this moment to get the next plot line.

And dammit, nothing comes. It’s a complete blank.

You’re thinking of that motorbike screaming up the road, or the car whose gearbox is going to explode if they don’t change into second or third, or the rubbish truck is collecting the rubbish, or two people are walking past your window, talking loudly about some obscure subject.

You strain to hear, and then think someone is rummaging up the other end of the house, and, easily distracted, go and find the cat has slunk away and is playing with your slippers.

Or the dog is tearing them apart.

Damn.

Then, finally giving up, go and have a shower, and under that soothing, water massaging head, the relaxation of the mind suddenly pops an idea into your head.

If only I had waterproof paper.

Writing a book in 365 days – 219

Day 219

Do you have a compelling need to write?

…

Some people would like to write.

Some have a genuine writing talent.

Then there is the rest of us, those who need to write.

Morning, noon, night, very late at night, on scraps of paper, on cafe napkins, in notebooks, on note apps on the phone, there is this very strange compulsion to get words on paper.

I feel it, it’s like a bug.

It’s like being in the shower and an idea hits you, when you try to think of what is going to happen next and can’t. You’re sitting there, pen in hand, gingers hovering over the keyboard, waiting, waiting, for that inspiration, and there’s nothing.

Don’t you just hate it?

All the time in the world. The writing room is sitting there, waiting for you. The cat, or the dog, has settled down on the floor and is pretending to sleep, like they know you need this moment to get the next plot line.

And dammit, nothing comes. It’s a complete blank.

You’re thinking of that motorbike screaming up the road, or the car whose gearbox is going to explode if they don’t change into second or third, or the rubbish truck is collecting the rubbish, or two people are walking past your window, talking loudly about some obscure subject.

You strain to hear, and then think someone is rummaging up the other end of the house, and, easily distracted, go and find the cat has slunk away and is playing with your slippers.

Or the dog is tearing them apart.

Damn.

Then, finally giving up, go and have a shower, and under that soothing, water massaging head, the relaxation of the mind suddenly pops an idea into your head.

If only I had waterproof paper.

A long short story that can’t be tamed – I always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress – 5

Five

Five minutes, and a backlog of customers, a new clerk, her name tag ‘Betty’, arrived and began processing the others.  I could see behind me, the Concierge pick up the phone and while listening, he was looking directly at me.

When he hung up, he disappeared into a back room, and when he returned there was another man with him, one that looked like a plain clothes detective, and as they were talking, they were looking at us.

Two suspicious people turn up with no luggage.  It was still at the airport, I’d intended to have it delivered to Cecile’s flat, but it was clear we would not be able to stay there.  Should I go over and ask him to arrange for its delivery?

I was about to go over to him when Wendy reappeared with an envelope in her hand.

She passed it across the counter.  “This was left for you two days ago.  We also have a reservation in your name.  I assume you are here to check-in?”

I looked at Emily and she nodded.

I turned back to Wendy.  “Yes.” 

Knowing how check-in worked and having to prepay for the room, I was pulling out my credit card to pay, hoping it wasn’t going to cost a small fortune.

Wendy saw me, and said, “The room has been paid for a week, sir.  It’s next to your friend’s room.”  I saw her process two keys, and then handed them to me.  “I trust you will enjoy your stay.”

I put the envelope in my pocket, and we crossed to the elevator lobby.

While we were waiting for the elevator, Emily said, “She was anticipating your arrival.”

“More likely hoping I would come.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your sister and I had a falling out before she left to come here.  We were supposed to get through the internship at the company before making a decision of what would happen next.  I had thought we might get married, but she didn’t quite want what I thought we both wanted.  It’s basically the reason why she came here.  It’s also the reason she found someone else, I suspect.  I refused to come over and join her.”

“When was this?”

“Three months ago.  I’m sorry but I didn’t tell anyone.  I was still coming to grips with having my hopes dashed.”

The lift doors opened in front of us, and three people stepped out, one of who gave me what I thought was a curious look.  The elevator empty we stepped in and I pressed the floor button.  The doors almost closed when an umbrella end was thrust in, causing the doors to reopen.  A man in a pinstripe suit and bowler hat stepped in.

“Sorry, thought it was empty.”

The doors closed.  He didn’t press any button so I assumed he was going up to the same floor as us.  He had what looked to be a key in his hand, so was another guest.

It didn’t stop my imagination working overtime.  I gave Emily the ‘don’t talk’ look hoping she understood what I meant.

The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors rattled open.  The man with the umbrella dashed out and turned left, striding purposefully up the passage.  We stepped out and checked to see which way the room was.  The opposite direction, thankfully.

Emily didn’t say another word, but for the length of the passage, until we reached the room, she looked over her shoulder several times, perhaps looking for the man in the pin-striped suit.

I used the key to open the door, ushered Emily in, and then looked up and down the passage to see if anyone was about, then stepped in and let the door close.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Did it strike you as odd that he waits until the last second to get in the elevator?”

“Probably a man in a hurry.  Are you going to be suspicious of everyone?”

“Until I know what’s going on, yes.”

There was nothing in the room.  Smallish, twin beds, an expensive mini bar, and towels and toiletries for two.  And it was quite warm.  Like most old places, the warmth came from a hot water radiator underneath a fading painting of rural England.

Everything looked as though it was as old as the hotel itself.  I thought I could detect the aroma of metal and wood polish.

I pulled the envelope out of my pocket and sat on the end of the bed.  On the front, it said ‘to be hand-delivered to [name]’ in Cecile’s writing.  Clue number two in what was beginning to look like a treasure hunt.

“James,

Well, if you’re reading this, it means matters have gone from bad to worse, not that I thought they could.  Enclosed is a card with Jake’s last known address on it.  I had a choice of two and went to the other.  I suggest you start there and find Jake.  He will know where I am.

Cee”

Emily looked at me.  She had read the note over my shoulder.  “Seems we have a mission, shall we go?”

It was that precise moment there was a knock on the door.  Not a friendly knock from room service or housekeeping, a knock that had trouble behind it.

I looked around the room, not sure why I was doing it, because there was no escape hatch, nor would we be going out the window.

As my eyes returned to the door, Emily was already there, hand on the handle.  It was too late to say no.

…

©  Charles Heath  2024

Writing a book in 365 days – 218

Day 218

A book I started to write but have not finished

…

I get ideas all the time, and sometimes they spark a flurry of writing.

A few years back, I was reading about a man who had split from his wife over creative differences. She was the one who had created a business out of an idea, turned it into a raging success and a huge money spinner, but with the fame and the fortune, she changed, but he did not.

And it became a problem so huge that he had to leave. There was a kicker in the tale, that after he left, she failed to tell him he was the father of twins.

Then, some fifteen or so years later, she dies and leaves the whole business and children to him, an eventuality he learns when a solicitor finally tracks him down in a hotel bar (of all places).

And in my usual, hey, that’s a good idea, I started writing.

It had a feel-good feeling attached to it, and I actually wrote several chapters, mostly about learning about what had happened from the time he left until the time when her father, whom she had fought tooth and nail to keep the business away from him, had all but taken it off her.

Then there were the children, spoiled, neglected, and recalcitrant. Getting sent home from boarding school for endless refractions, and getting into trouble simply because of their high-profile mother.

But, like all stories that are written without a proper plan, they stagger along, peter out, get revived and then end up in a box with a dozen or so others under a label, I’ll be back one day.

But this one niggles at me more than the others, and recently, thinking that starting it from the moment after she died, I would chart it from the first moment she got sick until the day she died, and got most of that done.

That then prompted the idea of writing a third part, that after regaining the business and getting it back on her track, sorting the children out by having them have to do a rather selective rehabilitation, he investigates the death and finds out who killed her, if it was murder.

This part, of course, would have a plan.

As soon as I get the time.