An excerpt from “Mistaken Identity” – a work in progress

The odds of any one of us having a doppelganger are quite high. Whether or not you got to meet him or her, or be confronted by them was significantly lower. Except of course, unless you are a celebrity.

It was a phenomenon remarkable only for the fact, at times, certain high-profile people, notorious or not, had doubles if only to put off enemies or the general public. Sometimes we see people in the street, people who look like someone we knew, and made the mistake of approaching them like a long lost friend, only to discover an embarrassed individual desperately trying to get away for what they perceive is a stalker or worse.

And then sometimes it is a picture that looms up on a TV screen, an almost exact likeness of you. At first, you are fascinated, and then according to the circumstances, and narrative that is attached to that picture, either flattered or horrified.

For me one turned to the other when I saw an almost likeness of me flash up on the screen when I turned the TV on in my room. What looked to be my photo, with only minor differences, was in the corner of the screen, the newsreader speaking in rapid Italian, so fast I could only translate every second or third word.

But the one word I did recognize was murder. The photo of the man up on the screen was the subject of an extensive manhunt. The crime, the murder of a woman in the very same hotel I was staying, and it was being played out live several floors above me. The gist of the story, the woman had been seen with, and staying with the man who was my double, and, less than an hour ago, the body had been discovered by a chambermaid.

The killer, the announcer said, was believed to be still in the hotel because the woman had died shortly before she had been discovered.

I watched, at first fascinated at what I was seeing. I guess I should have been horrified, but at that moment it didn’t register that I might be mistaken for that man.

Not until another five minutes had passed, and I was watching the police in full riot gear, with a camera crew following behind, coming up a passage towards a room. Live action of the arrest of the suspected killer the breathless commentator said.

Then, suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. On the TV screen, plain to see, was the number of my room.
I looked through the peephole and saw an army of police officers. It didn’t take much to realize what had happened. The hotel staff identified me as the man in the photograph on the TV and called the police.

Horrified wasn’t what I was feeling right then.

It was fear.

My last memory was the door crashing open, the wood splintering, and men rushing into the room, screaming at me, waving guns, and when I put my hands up to defend myself, I heard a gunshot.

And in one very confused and probably near-death experience, I thought I saw my mother and thought what was she doing in Rome?

I was the archetypal nobody.

I lived in a small flat, I drove a nondescript car, had an average job in a low profile travel agency, was single, and currently not involved in a relationship, no children, and according to my workmates, no life.

They were wrong. I was one of those people who preferred their own company, I had a cat, and travelled whenever I could. And I did have a ‘thing’ for Rosalie, one of the reasons why I stayed at the travel agency. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, but one could always hope.

I was both pleased and excited to be going to the conference. It was my first, and the glimpse I had seen of it had whetted my appetite for more information about the nuances of my profession.

Some would say that a travel agent wasn’t much of a job, but to me, it was every bit as demanding as being an accountant or a lawyer. You were providing a customer with a service, and arguably more people needed a travel agent than a lawyer. At least that was what I told myself, as I watched more and more people start using the internet, and our relevance slowly dissipating.

This conference was about countering that trend.

The trip over had been uneventful. I was met at the airport and taken to the hotel where the conference was being held with a number of other delegates who had arrived on the same plane. I had mingled with a number of other delegates at the pre conference get together, including one whose name was Maryanne.

She was an unusual young woman, not the sort that I usually met, because she was the one who was usually surrounded by all the boys, the life of the party. In normal circumstances, I would not have introduced myself to her, but she had approached me. Why did I think that may have been significant? All of this ran through my mind, culminating in the last event on the highlight reel, the door bursting open, men rushing into my room, and then one of the policemen opened fire.

I replayed that last scene again, trying to see the face of my assailant, but it was just a sea of men in battle dress, bullet proof vests and helmets, accompanied by screaming and yelling, some of which I identified as “Get on the floor”.

Then came the shot.

Why ask me to get on the floor if all they were going to do was shoot me. I was putting my hands up at the time, in surrender, not reaching for a weapon.

Then I saw the face again, hovering in the background like a ghost. My mother. Only the hair was different, and her clothes, and then the image was going, perhaps a figment of my imagination brought on by pain killing drugs. I tried to imagine the scene again, but this time it played out, without the image of my mother.

I opened my eyes took stock of my surroundings. What I felt in that exact moment couldn’t be described. I should most likely be dead, the result of a gunshot wound. I guess I should be thankful the shooter hadn’t aimed at anything vital, but that was the only item on the plus side.

I was in a hospital room with a policeman by the door. He was reading a newspaper, and sitting uncomfortably on a small chair. He gave me a quick glance when he heard me move slightly, but didn’t acknowledge me with either a nod, or a greeting, just went back to the paper.

If I still had a police guard, then I was still considered a suspect. What was interesting was that I was not handcuffed to the bed. Perhaps that only happened in TV shows. Or maybe they knew I couldn’t run because my injuries were too serious. Or the guard would shoot me long before my feet hit the floor. I knew the police well enough now to know they would shoot first and ask questions later.

On the physical side, I had a large bandage over the top left corner of my chest, extending over my shoulder. A little poking and prodding determined the bullet had hit somewhere between the top of my rib cage and my shoulder. Nothing vital there, but my arm might be somewhat useless for a while, depending on what the bullet hit on the way in, or through.

It didn’t feel like there were any broken or damaged bones.

That was the good news.

On the other side of the ledger, my mental state, there was only one word that could describe it. Terrified. I was looking at a murder charge and jail time, a lot of it. Murder usually had a long time in jail attached to it.

Whatever had happened, I didn’t do it. I know I didn’t do it, but I had to try and explain this to people who had already made up their minds. I searched my mind for evidence. It was there, but in the confused state brought on by the medication, all I could think about was jail, and the sort of company I was going to have.

I think death would have been preferable.

Half an hour later, maybe longer, I was drifting in an out of consciousness, a nurse, or what I thought was a nurse, came into the room. The guard stood, checked her ID card, and then stood by the door.

She came over and stood beside the bed. “How are you?” she asked, first in Italian, and when I pretended I didn’t understand, she asked the same question in accented English.

“Alive, I guess,” I said. “No one has come and told what my condition is yet. You are my first visitor. Can you tell me?”

“Of course. You are very lucky to be alive. You will be fine and make a full recovery. The doctors here are excellent at their work.”

“What happens now?”

“I check you, and then you have a another visitor. He is from the British Embassy I think. But he will have to wait until I have finished my examination.”

I realized then she was a doctor, not a nurse.

My second visitor was a man, dressed in a suit the sort of which I associated with the British Civil Service.  He was not very old which told me he was probably a recent graduate on his first posting, the junior officer who drew the short straw.

The guard checked his ID but again did not leave the room, sitting back down and going back to his newspaper.

My visitor introduced himself as Alex Jordan from the British Embassy in Rome and that he had been asked by the Ambassador to sort out what he labelled a tricky mess.

For starters, it was good to see that someone cared about what happened to me.  But, equally, I knew the mantra, get into trouble overseas, and there is not much we can do to help you.  So, after that lengthy introduction, I had to wonder why he was here.

I said, “They think I am an international criminal by the name of Jacob Westerbury, whose picture looks just like me, and apparently for them it is an open and shut case.”  I could still hear the fragments of the yelling as the police burst through the door, at the same time telling me to get on the floor with my hands over my head.

“It’s not.  They know they’ve got the wrong man, which is why I’m here.  There is the issue of what had been described as excessive force, and the fact you were shot had made it an all-round embarrassment for them.”

“Then why are you here?  Shouldn’t they be here apologizing?”

“That is why you have another visitor.  I only took precedence because I insisted I speak with you first.  I have come, basically to ask you for a favour.  This situation has afforded us with an opportunity.  We would like you to sign the official document which basically indemnifies them against any legal proceedings.”

Curious.  What sort of opportunity was he talking about?  Was this a matter than could get difficult and I could be charged by the Italian Government, even if I wasn’t guilty, or was it one of those hush hush type deals, you do this for us, we’ll help you out with that.  “What sort of opportunity?”

“We want to get our hands on Jacob Westerbury as much as they do.  They’ve made a mistake, and we’d like to use that to get custody of him if or when he is arrested in this country.  I’m sure you would also like this man brought into custody as soon as possible so you will stop being confused with him.  I can only imagine what it was like to be arrested in the manner you were.  And I would not blame you if you wanted to get some compensation for what they’ve done.  But.  There are bigger issues in play here, and you would be doing this for your country.”

I wondered what would happen if I didn’t agree to his proposal.  I had to ask, “What if I don’t?”

His expression didn’t change.  “I’m sure you are a sensible man Mr Pargeter, who is more than willing to help his country whenever he can.  They have agreed to take care of all your hospital expenses, and refund the cost of the Conference, and travel.  I’m sure I could also get them to pay for a few days at Capri, or Sorrento if you like, before you go home.  What do you say?”

There was only one thing I could say.  Wasn’t it treason if you went against your country’s wishes?

“I’m not an unreasonable man, Alex.  Go do your deal, and I’ll sign the papers.”

“Good man.”

After Alex left, the doctor came back to announce the arrival of a woman, by the way she had announced herself, the publicity officer from the Italian police. When she came into the room, she was not dressed in a uniform.

The doctor left after giving a brief report to the civilian at the door. I understood the gist of it, “The patient has recovered excellently and the wounds are healing as expected. There is no cause for concern.”

That was a relief.

While the doctor was speaking to the civilian, I speculated on who she might be. She was young, not more than thirty, conservatively dressed so an official of some kind, but not necessarily with the police. Did they have prosecutors? I was unfamiliar with the Italian legal system.

She had long wavy black hair and the sort of sultry looks of an Italian movie star, and her presence made me more curious than fearful though I couldn’t say why.

The woman then spoke to the guard, and he reluctantly got up and left the room, closing the door behind him.
She checked the door, and then came back towards me, standing at the end of the bed. Now alone, she said, “A few questions before we begin.” Her English was only slightly accented. “Your name is Jack Pargeter?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“You are in Rome to attend the Travel Agents Conference at the Hilton Hotel?”

“Yes.”

“You attended a preconference introduction on the evening of the 25th, after arriving from London at approximately 4:25 pm.”

“About that time, yes. I know it was about five when the bus came to collect me, and several others, to take us to the hotel.”

She smiled. It was then I noticed she was reading from a small notepad.

“It was ten past five to be precise. The driver had been held up in traffic. We have a number of witnesses who saw you on the plane, on the bus, at the hotel, and with the aid of closed circuit TV we have established you are not the criminal Jacob Westerbury.”

She put her note book back in her bag and then said, “My name is Vicenza Andretti and I am with the prosecutor’s office. I am here to formally apologize for the situation that can only be described as a case of mistaken identity. I assure you it is not the habit of our police officers to shoot people unless they have a very strong reason for doing so. I understand that in the confusion of the arrest one of our officers accidentally discharged his weapon. We are undergoing a very thorough investigation into the circumstances of this event.”

I was not sure why, but between the time I had spoken to the embassy official and now, something about letting them off so easily was bugging me. I could see why they had sent her. It would be difficult to be angry or annoyed with her.

But I was annoyed.

“Do you often send a whole squad of trigger happy riot police to arrest a single man?” It came out harsher than I intended.

“My men believed they were dealing with a dangerous criminal.”

“Do I look like a dangerous criminal?” And then I realized if it was mistaken identity, the answer would be yes.

She saw the look on my face, and said quietly, “I think you know the answer to that question, Mr. Pargeter.”

“Well, it was overkill.”

“As I said, we are very sorry for the circumstances you now find yourself in. You must understand that we honestly believed we were dealing with an armed and dangerous murderer, and we were acting within our mandate. My department will cover your medical expenses, and any other amounts for the inconvenience this has caused you. I believe you were attending a conference at your hotel. I am very sorry but given the medical circumstances you have, you will have to remain here for a few more days.”

“I guess, then, I should thank you for not killing me.”

Her expression told me that was not the best thing I could have said in the circumstances.

“I mean, I should thank you for the hospital and the care. But a question or two of my own. May I?”

She nodded.

“Did you catch this Jacob Westerbury character?”

“No. In the confusion created by your arrest he escaped. Once we realized we had made a mistake and reviewed the close circuit TV, we tracked him leaving by a rear exit.”

“Are you sure it was one of your men who shot me?”

I watched as her expression changed, to one of surprise.

“You don’t think it was one of my men?”

“Oddly enough no. But don’t ask me why.”

“It is very interesting that you should say that, because in our initial investigation, it appeared none of our officer’s weapons had been discharged. A forensic investigation into the bullet tells us it was one that is used in our weapons, but…”

I could see their dilemma.

“Have you any enemies that would want to shoot you Mr Pargeter?”

That was absurd because I had no enemies, at least none that I knew of, much less anyone who would want me dead.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then it is strange, and will perhaps remain a mystery. I will let you know if anything more is revealed in our investigation.”

She took an envelope out of her briefcase and opened it, pulling out several sheets of paper.

I knew what it was. A verbal apology was one thing, but a signed waiver would cover them legally. They had sent a pretty girl to charm me. Perhaps using anyone else it would not have worked. There was potential for a huge litigation payout here, and someone more ruthless would jump at the chance of making a few million out of the Italian Government.

“We need a signature on this document,” she said.

“Absolving you of any wrong doing?”

“I have apologized. We will take whatever measures are required for your comfort after this event. We are accepting responsibility for our actions, and are being reasonable.”

They were. I took the pen from her and signed the documents.

“You couldn’t add dinner with you on that list of benefits?” No harm in asking.

“I am unfortunately unavailable.”

I smiled. “It wasn’t a request for a date, just dinner. You can tell me about Rome, as only a resident can. Please.”

She looked me up and down, searching for the ulterior motive. When she couldn’t find one, she said, “We shall see once the hospital discharges you in a few days.”

“Then I’ll pencil you in?”

She looked at me quizzically. “What is this pencil me in?”

“It’s an English colloquialism. It means maybe. As when you write something in pencil, it is easy to erase it.”

A momentary frown, then recognition and a smile. “I shall remember that. Thank-you for your time and co-operation Mr. Pargeter. Good morning.”

© Charles Heath 2015-2021

What I learned about writing – How has writing affected your life?

When I was much younger, and life was very difficult, my imagination needed to take my mind off that dark world around me, and fired up and fueled a great many stories.

The pre-teen years were not those in which I wrote anything beyond those school assignments, but I remember the desire to read and, in doing so, imagine it could inhabit those idyllic worlds.

When I was old enough and in the first years of secondary school, the subjects we learned helped expand that imagination; some wanted to be someone different, to be somewhere else, anywhere but home.

I remember reading books about boarding school in England and somehow thought that would be better than what I had here.  That notion of self-sufficiency and navigating those younger years in such an environment would be fun.

Of course, later on, I realised the reality of that sort of life, and it was just as horrible as I had already.

It didn’t stop me from wanting to be in a rich family living in a large house and having a whole estate to play in.  It didn’t matter that it might not be the truth, just that it was different.

As I transitioned out of school, now having discovered I could write and translate those dreams into stories, I embarked on a university degree that majored in Narrative, which was writing, and journalism, which, in combining the two, provided three years of writing experience.

In other words, from an early age, I used writing as a means of survival and later as a channel for my creative whim.  I never expected that I would write a book, not in those early years, just that the scribbles on paper would eventually become something.

Yes, I wanted to have a perfect relationship, but I soon realised that there really isn’t one. Writing about it and trying to create perfection, I discovered a lot of interesting lessons and everything that can go wrong, as usual.

Yes, I wanted to be a spy, and watched, ready and studied as much as I could, and discovered that Spies don’t live a charmed life; they are always teetering on the edge of life and death.

Yes, I wanted to be a billionaire and live a charmed and successful life, but it mostly didn’t happen, and the newspaper pages are littered with the death and ruination of a great many privileged souls.

Others struggle.  My father always said life wasn’t meant to be easy.  I soon learned that in my imagination and my stories, it could. 

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 114

Day 114 – Cliches

Beyond the Cliché: How to Refresh Your Writing and Ditch the Tired Tropes

We’ve all been there. You’re deep into a draft, the ideas are flowing, and suddenly, you hit a wall. You need a phrase to describe a messy situation, a strong promise, or an aggressive reaction. Your brain reaches into its mental filing cabinet and pulls out the usual suspects: “can of worms,” “mark my words,” and “feeding frenzy.”

They’re comfortable. They’re recognisable. But are they good writing?

Cliches aren’t inherently evil; they are shorthand. They exist because they were originally clever, punchy, and effective. The problem is that they’ve been used so often that they’ve lost their impact. They are the “white noise” of the literary world. When a reader sees a cliché, their brain glosses over it because they’ve already encountered it a thousand times.

If you want your writing to stand out, you have to be willing to do the extra work of finding a fresher way to say what you mean. Let’s break down three common cliches and look at how to replace them with something that actually bites.


1. The “Can of Worms”

The cliche: “Opening this investigation will just open a whole can of worms.” The problem: It’s become so cartoonish that it evokes a literal fishing trip rather than a complex bureaucratic nightmare.

The Strategy: Focus on the consequence of the action. What kind of trouble are we talking about?

  • Try these instead:
    • “Opening this investigation will trigger a cascade of unforeseen fallout.”
    • “This will unearth a hornet’s nest of complications.”
    • “If we pull this thread, the entire tapestry of our agreement starts to unravel.”
    • “This is a Pandora’s box we aren’t prepared to manage.”

2. “Mark My Words”

The cliche: “Mark my words, this company will be bankrupt within a year.” The problem: It sounds like the dialogue from a mid-century detective movie. It carries a sense of performative drama that often rings hollow.

The Strategy: Don’t demand that the reader “mark” your words—simply state your conviction with enough strength that they have no choice but to believe you.

  • Try these instead:
    • “I’d bet my reputation that this company will be bankrupt within a year.”
    • “History suggests that this company is headed for bankruptcy.”
    • “Write it down: this company is on a collision course with bankruptcy.”
    • “Make no mistake: this company is folding.”

3. “Feeding Frenzy”

The cliche: “The press went into a feeding frenzy over the scandal.” The problem: It dehumanises the subjects and relies on a biological metaphor that has been used until it’s transparent.

The Strategy: Describe the action of the group. Are they frantic? Are they ruthless? Are they opportunistic?

  • Try these instead:
    • “The press swarmed the scandal with predatory zeal.”
    • “The scandal triggered a vicious, rapid-fire cycle of speculation.”
    • “Once the news broke, the media circled like vultures.”
    • “The scandal sparked a competitive scramble for every shred of information.”

How to Stamp Out Cliches in Your Own Work

You don’t have to get rid of every single cliché on your first draft. That’s what editing is for. Here is a simple workflow to sharpen your prose:

  1. Read Aloud: When you read your draft, cliches stand out like sore thumbs. Your tongue will stumble or your brain will feel a “ping” of familiarity.
  2. Ask “What do I actually mean?”: If you want to say something is a “can of worms,” ask yourself: What is the specific danger? Is it chaos? Is it legal liability? Is it a mountain of paperwork? Be specific.
  3. Use the Thesaurus as a Guide, Not a Crutch: Look up the core words of your cliché, but don’t just pick a synonym. Use the thesaurus to trigger a new way of visualising the concept.
  4. Embrace the “Plain Language” Rule: Sometimes, the best alternative to a cliche is simply stating the truth plainly. Instead of “a feeding frenzy,” just say “relentless media scrutiny.” Plain, direct language is often more powerful than any metaphor.

The Bottom Line: Great writing isn’t about using the biggest words or the most complex metaphors; it’s about choosing language that feels earned. By ditching the tired tropes, you show your readers that you value their time—and that you have an original voice worth listening to.

Searching for locations: The Jade Factory, Beijing, China

The first stop is at a Jade Museum to learn the history of jade. In Chinese, jade is pronounced as “Yu” and it has a history in China of at least four thousand years.  On the way there, we are given a story about one of the guide’s relatives who had a jade bracelet, and how it has saved her from countless catastrophes.It is, quite literally ‘the’ good luck charm.  Chinese gamblers are known to have small pieces of jade in their hands when visiting the casinos, for good luck.  I’m not sure anything could provide a gambler with any sort of luck given how the odds are always slanted towards the house.

At any rate, this is neither the time of the place to debunk a ‘well-known fact’.

 On arrival, our guide hands us over to a local guide, a real staff member, and she begins with a discussion on jade while we watch a single worker working on an intricate piece, what looks to be a globe within a globe, sorry, there are two workers, and the second is working on a dragon.

At the end of the passage that passes by the workers, and before you enter the main showroom, you are dazzled by the ship and is nothing short of magnificent.

Then it’s into a small room just off the main showroom where we are taken through the colors, and the carving process in the various stages, without really being told how the magic happens.

Then it’s out into the main showroom where the sales are made, and before dispersing to look at the jade collection, she briefly tells us how to tell real and fake jade, and she does the usual trick of getting one of the tour group to model a piece.

Looks good, let’s move on.  To bigger and better examples.

What interested me, other than the small zodiac signs and other smallish pieces on the ‘promotion’ table, was the jade bangle our tour guide told us about on the bus.  If anyone needs one, it is my other half, with all the medical issues and her sometimes clumsiness, two particular maladies this object is supposed to prevent.
Jade to the Chinese is Diamonds to westerners, and the jade bangle is often handed down to the females of the family from generation to generation, often as an engagement present, to be worn on the left hand, the one closest to the heart.

There are literally thousands of them, but, they have to be specially fitted to your wrist because if it’s too large, you might lose it if it slips off and I didn’t think it could be too small.  
Nor is it cheap, and needing a larger size, it is reasonably expensive.  But it is jadeite, the more expensive of the types of jade, and it can only appreciate in value, not that we are interested in the monetary value, it’s more the good luck aspect.

We could use some of that.

But, just to touch on something that can be the bugbear of traveling overseas, is the subject of happy houses, a better name for toilets, and has become a recurrent theme on this tour.  It’s better than blurting out the word toilet and it seems there can be some not so happy houses given that the toilets in China are usually squat rather than sit, even for women.
And apparently, everyone has an unhappy house story, particularly the women, and generally in having to squat over a pit.  Why is this a discussion point, it seems the jade factory had what we have come to call happy, happy houses which have more proper toilets, and a stop here before going on the great wall was recommended, as the ‘happy house’ at the wall is deemed to be not such a happy house.

Not even this dragon was within my price range.  Thank heaven they had smaller more affordable models.  The object of having a dragon, large or small, is that it should be placed inside the main door to the house so that money can come in.

It also seems that stuffing the dragon’s mouth with money is also good luck.  We passed on doing that.

After spending a small fortune, there was a bonus, free Chinese tea.  Apparently, we will be coming back, after the Great Wall visit, to have lunch upstairs.

           

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

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 114

Day 114 – Cliches

Beyond the Cliché: How to Refresh Your Writing and Ditch the Tired Tropes

We’ve all been there. You’re deep into a draft, the ideas are flowing, and suddenly, you hit a wall. You need a phrase to describe a messy situation, a strong promise, or an aggressive reaction. Your brain reaches into its mental filing cabinet and pulls out the usual suspects: “can of worms,” “mark my words,” and “feeding frenzy.”

They’re comfortable. They’re recognisable. But are they good writing?

Cliches aren’t inherently evil; they are shorthand. They exist because they were originally clever, punchy, and effective. The problem is that they’ve been used so often that they’ve lost their impact. They are the “white noise” of the literary world. When a reader sees a cliché, their brain glosses over it because they’ve already encountered it a thousand times.

If you want your writing to stand out, you have to be willing to do the extra work of finding a fresher way to say what you mean. Let’s break down three common cliches and look at how to replace them with something that actually bites.


1. The “Can of Worms”

The cliche: “Opening this investigation will just open a whole can of worms.” The problem: It’s become so cartoonish that it evokes a literal fishing trip rather than a complex bureaucratic nightmare.

The Strategy: Focus on the consequence of the action. What kind of trouble are we talking about?

  • Try these instead:
    • “Opening this investigation will trigger a cascade of unforeseen fallout.”
    • “This will unearth a hornet’s nest of complications.”
    • “If we pull this thread, the entire tapestry of our agreement starts to unravel.”
    • “This is a Pandora’s box we aren’t prepared to manage.”

2. “Mark My Words”

The cliche: “Mark my words, this company will be bankrupt within a year.” The problem: It sounds like the dialogue from a mid-century detective movie. It carries a sense of performative drama that often rings hollow.

The Strategy: Don’t demand that the reader “mark” your words—simply state your conviction with enough strength that they have no choice but to believe you.

  • Try these instead:
    • “I’d bet my reputation that this company will be bankrupt within a year.”
    • “History suggests that this company is headed for bankruptcy.”
    • “Write it down: this company is on a collision course with bankruptcy.”
    • “Make no mistake: this company is folding.”

3. “Feeding Frenzy”

The cliche: “The press went into a feeding frenzy over the scandal.” The problem: It dehumanises the subjects and relies on a biological metaphor that has been used until it’s transparent.

The Strategy: Describe the action of the group. Are they frantic? Are they ruthless? Are they opportunistic?

  • Try these instead:
    • “The press swarmed the scandal with predatory zeal.”
    • “The scandal triggered a vicious, rapid-fire cycle of speculation.”
    • “Once the news broke, the media circled like vultures.”
    • “The scandal sparked a competitive scramble for every shred of information.”

How to Stamp Out Cliches in Your Own Work

You don’t have to get rid of every single cliché on your first draft. That’s what editing is for. Here is a simple workflow to sharpen your prose:

  1. Read Aloud: When you read your draft, cliches stand out like sore thumbs. Your tongue will stumble or your brain will feel a “ping” of familiarity.
  2. Ask “What do I actually mean?”: If you want to say something is a “can of worms,” ask yourself: What is the specific danger? Is it chaos? Is it legal liability? Is it a mountain of paperwork? Be specific.
  3. Use the Thesaurus as a Guide, Not a Crutch: Look up the core words of your cliché, but don’t just pick a synonym. Use the thesaurus to trigger a new way of visualising the concept.
  4. Embrace the “Plain Language” Rule: Sometimes, the best alternative to a cliche is simply stating the truth plainly. Instead of “a feeding frenzy,” just say “relentless media scrutiny.” Plain, direct language is often more powerful than any metaphor.

The Bottom Line: Great writing isn’t about using the biggest words or the most complex metaphors; it’s about choosing language that feels earned. By ditching the tired tropes, you show your readers that you value their time—and that you have an original voice worth listening to.

What I learned about writing – Writing routine

The question is, do you have one?

I suspect all of the professional authors have one.

Wake up at six, go for a run on the beach, through the garden, somewhere private and exotic with views to die for, then coffee and croissants on the balcony overlooking the ocean, go up to that spacious, airy writing room where inspiration pours from every corner or crevice.

Two hours of wordsmithing, a leisurely lunch, two more hours in the afternoon, then a night out with friends at the theatre, followed by supper in an exclusive restaurant.

So, not being a professional author, I certainly don’t start the morning with a run.  I struggle to wake up and get out of bed.

No breakfast.  Not because I don’t want to, I just can’t be bothered.

Then it’s the chores.  Washing, dishwasher, digging out what’s going to be for dinner, rummaging in the freezer and agonising over what’s going to be easiest, then hit the bathroom.

Sometimes, an idea hits me in the shower, or the answer to that elusive next part of the story, after writing myself into the proverbial corner.

Then a mad dash to get said idea down on paper.

By that time, its lunch, not leisurely, and I scan social media and my blog for responses and activity.  This is followed by a scan of the news headlines to see if anything is happening, other than Trump and the likelihood of World War three.

Satisfied it won’t be raining nuclear missiles, I go out to the writing room, yes, at least I have one of those and sit down in front of the computer.

Good thought, but it’s back to the washing and dinner.  Rose comes home.  No words written, so social media work is completed, but essentially nothing really happens now until about 11 pm

That’s when the writing gets done.

2 a.m. bed.  Dream of what might be tomorrow’s writing, but dead tired, no dreams.

Wake, repeat, sleep…

Perhaps if I planned my days … 

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 113

Day 113 – Writing behind closed doors – alone

The Solitary Craft: The Pros and Cons of Writing Behind a Closed Door

Every writer has their own ritual. Some prefer the hum of a bustling coffee shop, while others find their flow in the company of a critique group. But for many, the “true” work happens in the sanctuary of isolation—behind a closed door, away from the noise, the glare of the world, and the distractions of daily life.

Writing in isolation is a double-edged sword. It is both a monastic devotion and a potential trap. If you’ve ever wondered whether you should be retreating to your home office for days on end, here’s a look at the trade-offs of the solitary craft.


The Pros: The Sanctity of the Flow State

For many authors, isolation isn’t just a preference; it’s a necessity for deep work. When you shut the door, you are creating a workspace where you are the sole arbiter of your world-building.

1. Uninterrupted Deep Work (The “Flow”) It takes approximately 20 minutes to re-enter a deep state of concentration after an interruption. By closing your door, you minimise the “ping” of notifications and the “hey, do you have a second?” that kill momentum. Isolation allows you to sink into the flow state where time disappears, and the prose begins to sing.

2. Psychological Safety Writing often requires vulnerability. When you are alone, you don’t face the subconscious filter of “what will people think?” You are free to write the messy, embarrassing, or radical first draft without an audience. This isolation acts as an incubator for risk-taking and authentic expression.

3. Total Control Over Environment: Your workspace is your cockpit. You control the lighting, the silence (or the specific playlist), and the temperature. This sensory control helps signal to your brain that it is time to work, turning your “closed door” into a psychological trigger for productivity.


The Cons: The Perils of the Echo Chamber

While the hermit life can produce great work, it also comes with significant risks. Writing in a vacuum can lead to stagnation, both in your craft and your mental well-being.

1. The “Echo Chamber” Effect When you write in total isolation, you lose the invaluable feedback loop. You may unknowingly fall into repetitive tropes, develop plot holes that you are too close to see, or misuse language in ways that are obvious to an outsider but invisible to you. Without the “fresh eyes” of a peer or editor, you run the risk of becoming your own worst champion—or your own worst critic.

2. The Erosion of Perspective: Writers are observers of humanity. To write realistic characters, you need to hear how people speak, observe their body language, and understand the tensions of social dynamics. If you spend too much time behind a closed door, your world may start to feel “airless.” Your dialogue can become wooden, and your understanding of cultural shifts may lag.

3. The Psychological Toll Writing is a lonely profession by default. By choosing to physically isolate yourself for long stretches, you risk burnout and the “writer’s blues.” Without the grounding influence of the outside world, the internal struggles of the writing process—self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and creative blocks—can become mountainous and overwhelming.


Finding the Balance: The “Hybrid” Approach

The goal isn’t to choose between total isolation and total social immersion. The most successful writers often use a hybrid model:

  • The Sprint: Use the closed door for the “heavy lifting”—the drafting phase, where you need pure, uninterrupted focus.
  • The Inhale: Once the draft is down, open the door. Seek out writers’ groups, beta readers, or even just a busy cafe to recalibrate your senses.
  • The Observation: Use your time outside the room to “fill the well.” Listen to conversations in line at the grocery store, read books by different authors, and engage with the world so you have something to write about when you return to your desk.

The Verdict

Writing behind a closed door is a powerful tool, but it is a tool meant to be used in cycles. Use your isolation to create, but remember to occasionally unlock the door. Your best work often happens at the intersection of deep, focused thought and the messy, human world you are writing for.

How do you handle your writing environment? Do you crave the isolation, or do you find you need the buzz of the world to keep your words fresh? Let me know in the comments.

First Dig Two Graves

A sequel to “The Devil You Don’t”

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

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

It leaves Zoe in completely unfamiliar territory.

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

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

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

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

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

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 113

Day 113 – Writing behind closed doors – alone

The Solitary Craft: The Pros and Cons of Writing Behind a Closed Door

Every writer has their own ritual. Some prefer the hum of a bustling coffee shop, while others find their flow in the company of a critique group. But for many, the “true” work happens in the sanctuary of isolation—behind a closed door, away from the noise, the glare of the world, and the distractions of daily life.

Writing in isolation is a double-edged sword. It is both a monastic devotion and a potential trap. If you’ve ever wondered whether you should be retreating to your home office for days on end, here’s a look at the trade-offs of the solitary craft.


The Pros: The Sanctity of the Flow State

For many authors, isolation isn’t just a preference; it’s a necessity for deep work. When you shut the door, you are creating a workspace where you are the sole arbiter of your world-building.

1. Uninterrupted Deep Work (The “Flow”) It takes approximately 20 minutes to re-enter a deep state of concentration after an interruption. By closing your door, you minimise the “ping” of notifications and the “hey, do you have a second?” that kill momentum. Isolation allows you to sink into the flow state where time disappears, and the prose begins to sing.

2. Psychological Safety Writing often requires vulnerability. When you are alone, you don’t face the subconscious filter of “what will people think?” You are free to write the messy, embarrassing, or radical first draft without an audience. This isolation acts as an incubator for risk-taking and authentic expression.

3. Total Control Over Environment: Your workspace is your cockpit. You control the lighting, the silence (or the specific playlist), and the temperature. This sensory control helps signal to your brain that it is time to work, turning your “closed door” into a psychological trigger for productivity.


The Cons: The Perils of the Echo Chamber

While the hermit life can produce great work, it also comes with significant risks. Writing in a vacuum can lead to stagnation, both in your craft and your mental well-being.

1. The “Echo Chamber” Effect When you write in total isolation, you lose the invaluable feedback loop. You may unknowingly fall into repetitive tropes, develop plot holes that you are too close to see, or misuse language in ways that are obvious to an outsider but invisible to you. Without the “fresh eyes” of a peer or editor, you run the risk of becoming your own worst champion—or your own worst critic.

2. The Erosion of Perspective: Writers are observers of humanity. To write realistic characters, you need to hear how people speak, observe their body language, and understand the tensions of social dynamics. If you spend too much time behind a closed door, your world may start to feel “airless.” Your dialogue can become wooden, and your understanding of cultural shifts may lag.

3. The Psychological Toll Writing is a lonely profession by default. By choosing to physically isolate yourself for long stretches, you risk burnout and the “writer’s blues.” Without the grounding influence of the outside world, the internal struggles of the writing process—self-doubt, imposter syndrome, and creative blocks—can become mountainous and overwhelming.


Finding the Balance: The “Hybrid” Approach

The goal isn’t to choose between total isolation and total social immersion. The most successful writers often use a hybrid model:

  • The Sprint: Use the closed door for the “heavy lifting”—the drafting phase, where you need pure, uninterrupted focus.
  • The Inhale: Once the draft is down, open the door. Seek out writers’ groups, beta readers, or even just a busy cafe to recalibrate your senses.
  • The Observation: Use your time outside the room to “fill the well.” Listen to conversations in line at the grocery store, read books by different authors, and engage with the world so you have something to write about when you return to your desk.

The Verdict

Writing behind a closed door is a powerful tool, but it is a tool meant to be used in cycles. Use your isolation to create, but remember to occasionally unlock the door. Your best work often happens at the intersection of deep, focused thought and the messy, human world you are writing for.

How do you handle your writing environment? Do you crave the isolation, or do you find you need the buzz of the world to keep your words fresh? Let me know in the comments.