365 Days of writing, 2026 – 8

Day 8 – How to improve your vocabulary

…

No Textbooks, No Timetables: 5 Ways to Improve Your Vocabulary on the Fly

We’ve all been there. You’re in the middle of an important email, a compelling conversation, or a presentation, and suddenly, the perfect word is… just out of reach. It’s like a mental shimmer, a ghost on the tip of your tongue. You settle for a lesser word, and the moment passes.

In a busy world, who has time for flashcards, vocabulary lists, and scheduled study sessions? The good news is you don’t need them. Building a more powerful, precise, and impressive vocabulary isn’t about a massive time commitment. It’s about building smarter, faster habits into the life you’re already living.

Here are the five best ways to improve your vocabulary on the fly, turning everyday moments into learning opportunities.

1. Become a Context Detective

This is your number one, tool-free, anytime-anywhere superpower. When you stumble upon an unfamiliar word while reading an article, a report, or even a social media post, don’t skip over it. Pause and become a detective.

What it is: Using the surrounding words, phrases, and sentences to deduce the meaning of an unknown word.

Why it works: The brain is a pattern-matching machine. By analysing the context, you’re actively engaging with the new word rather than passively receiving it. This active effort forges a much stronger memory link than simply looking it up.

How to do it on the fly: Read the sentence before and after the word. Ask yourself: What’s the topic? Is the word being used to describe something positive, negative, large, or small? For example: “The politician’s speech was so turgid that most of the audience started checking their phones.”

Even if you’ve never seen “turgid,” you can infer it’s negative and probably means something like bloated, boring, or overly complex. Make a mental guess. This act of guessing primes your brain to remember the real meaning later.

2. Master the “Tap-and-Lookup” Rule

Being a context detective is great, but sometimes you need confirmation. This is where your smartphone becomes your best friend, not a distraction.

What it is: The immediate, reflexive action of looking up an unknown word the moment you encounter it.

Why it works: Momentum is everything. If you wait, you’ll forget. By looking it up within seconds, you connect the word directly to its context and your initial guess. This creates a complete learning package in under ten seconds.

How to do it on the fly: Keep a dictionary app (like Merriam-Webster or Dictionary.com) on your phone’s home screen. When you read a word you don’t know—whether in an email, an ebook, or a news article—literally tap and look it up right then. Read the definition, and then go back and reread the sentence with your new understanding. The “aha!” moment is instant.

3. Eavesdrop Like a Writer (or an Active Listener)

Your ears are vocabulary-building goldmines, especially in our world of podcasts, audiobooks, and YouTube videos. But you have to listen with intent.

What it is: Tuning into the language used in podcasts, interviews, and conversations to actively identify and absorb new words.

Why it works: Hearing a word used correctly—with its proper pronunciation and emotional tone—teaches you how to wield it yourself. It’s a more dynamic and memorable way to learn than just seeing it on a page.

How to do it on the fly: On your commute, during a workout, or while doing chores, replace mindless scrolling with a high-quality podcast or an audiobook on a topic you enjoy. When you hear a word that piques your interest, make a mental note (or use a voice memo to say, “Look up ‘ubiquitous'”). Later, when you can, do a quick lookup. You’ll be amazed at how often that word will pop up again now that you’re aware of it.

4. Play the Synonym Game

Improving your vocabulary isn’t just about learning new words; it’s about finding better ones for the words you already use. This is a quick exercise you can do while writing or even speaking.

What it is: Actively swapping a simple, common word for a more precise or powerful alternative.

Why it works: This method directly applies new knowledge to your communication, making it instantly practical. It trains your brain to reach for more descriptive language, moving your vocabulary from passive knowledge to an active skill.

How to do it on the fly: As you write an email or a message, identify the most basic verbs or adjectives. “We need a good plan.” Now, open a thesaurus (most word processors have one built-in, or you can use a site like Thesaurus.com). Is the plan robust, strategic, comprehensive, or ingenious? Swapping “good” for a more specific word elevates your entire sentence. Do this for just one word per email, and it’ll soon become second nature.

5. The “Use It or Lose It” Challenge

This final tip is the glue that holds everything together. A word you learn but never use is a guest who never leaves the lobby—it doesn’t become part of the family.

What it is: Making a conscious effort to use a new word within 24 hours of learning it.

Why it works: The act of retrieval—pulling a word out of your memory and using it in context—is the single most effective way to commit it to long-term memory. It builds the neural pathway that makes the word accessible in the future.

How to do it on the fly: Let’s say you looked up “turgid” during your morning reading. Your challenge for the day is to use it. It can be in a work email (“Let’s avoid turgid explanations in the client deck”), a text to a friend (“That movie was so turgid”), or even just spoken aloud to yourself. It might feel a little forced at first, but that awkwardness is your brain working hard to integrate its new tool.

Your Brain’s New Toolkit

Improving your vocabulary doesn’t require a life overhaul. It’s about shifting from passive consumption to active engagement. By combining these five “on-the-fly” habits, you create a virtuous cycle:

You listen for a new word, use context to guess its meaning, look it up to confirm, swap it into your writing, and then use it in a conversation to seal the deal.

These are small actions, but taken consistently, they transform the way you communicate and think. So, which one will you try first? The next time you’re reading, give it a go. Your future, more articulate self will thank you for it.

Harry Walthenson, Private Detective – the second case – A case of finding the “Flying Dutchman”

…

What starts as a search for a missing husband soon develops into an unbelievable story of treachery, lies, and incredible riches.

…

It was meant to remain buried long enough for the dust to settle on what was once an unpalatable truth, when enough time had passed, and those who had been willing to wait could reap the rewards.

The problem was, no one knew where that treasure was hidden or the location of the logbook that held the secret.

At stake, billions of dollars’ worth of stolen Nazi loot brought to the United States in an anonymous tramp steamer and hidden in a specially constructed vault under a specifically owned plot of land on the once docklands of New York.

It may have remained hidden and unknown to only a few, if it had not been for a mere obscure detail being overheard …

… by our intrepid, newly minted private detective, Harry Walthenson …

… and it would have remained buried.

Now, through a series of unrelated events, or are they, that well-kept secret is out there, and Harry will not stop until the whole truth is uncovered.

Even if it almost costs him his life. Again.

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.”

…

A long short story that can’t be tamed – I always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress – 3

Three

It was dark, the curtains had been closed, but even in that light, we could see the flat was a mess.

Emily went in first, then I followed. She switched on the light, and that mess we had seen, was the product of one or more people systematically searching and basically trashing the place.

Emily was shocked, muttering, “What the hell happened here?” She then went to look at the other rooms.

I made a closer inspection of the room. None of the furniture, some moved, some overturned, showed signs of there being a fight, as there was no blood anywhere. If she had left before this, even after it, she had not been physically assaulted enough to cause bleeding.

I was not sure if that was a consolation.

Emily returned. “Just as bad everywhere else. I need to call the police. Dad gave me a number to call.” She pulled out her mobile phone, and then searched for the note with the number, going into the other room.

That was the moment there was a knock on the door. It wouldn’t be Cecile knocking on her own door, but hopefully someone who knew her.

I opened the door to see a middle-aged woman who looked like she had rushed to get there. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was heavy. And there was a flustered air about her.

Before I could get a word in, she asked, “Are you James Bentley?”

How could she possibly know who I was? I nodded.

“Then this is for you.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a letter-size envelope and held it out.

“Did you know her?” It was possible she might be able to help us finding her.

“No. Two days ago, she pounded on my door and gave me that letter and said a man of your description would arrive within three days. Here you are, and here it is.” She shoved the envelope in my hand. “That’s all I know, don’t bother me again.”

With that she was gone, apparently from a downstairs flat judging by the sound of her feet on the stairwell steps. I closed the door.

“Who was that?” Emily asked, coming back from the other room, phone call finished.

“A woman with a letter from Cecile.” I held it up.

“Did she have anything else to say?”

“Just that giving me the letter was the extent of her involvement. I’m guessing by her manner; she was scared doing even that. It just reinforces the notion that Cecile is probably in serious trouble. What did the policeman have to say?”

“He’s sending a couple of detectives to look into the matter, and that we shouldn’t touch anything. You should read the letter.”

I opened the envelope and took out a single page. It had been haphazardly folded in haste then straightened out again, and the writing that I could see was hers and had been written in haste. The paper had been ripped crookedly off a pad. I looked around the room and saw the pad on the floor, near the table where the phone had sat.

I picked it up off the floor and kept it to one side, thinking it might have something useful hidden on the top page running a pencil over the paper to see if there was writing on the previous page, a trick I’d learned from watching TV.

Emily was waiting impatiently for me to read the letter, and I could see her restraining herself from snatching it out of my hand.

It said, and reading it out aloud for Emily,

Jimmy,

If you are reading this then it’s the worst possible scenario.

I began to suspect Jake was not what he seemed to be about a month ago, and then, one night, he came home, bleeding from a bullet wound. He said it was not serious and refused to go to a hospital.

He left two days later and didn’t come back.

I then went looking for him, only to discover he didn’t work where he said he did, his parents were not who he said they were, and none of his friends didn’t really know anything about him.

Two days after he went missing, some men came to the door and told me, quite emphatically, to stop asking questions.

Or else.

After they left, I wrote this and gave it to Mrs Williams with specific instructions to give it to you when you came to the flat, in case something happened to me.

Since you’re reading this, it has.

I will be packing an overnight bag and going to the hotel you and I once said we would stay at if we ever came to London. I will leave another note there if I’m able. Just ask at the front desk first.

I will try to send a text if and when I can.

Cee

So, text sent, it was a serious situation. And, I noted, she had called me Jimmy, knowing how much I hated being called that.

Emily fired the first question, “What the name of this hotel?”

“We will be going there, right after we deal with the police when they arrive.”

“We have to go now, while the trail is still hot.”

The trail was anything but hot. This mess looked to me like it had been here for a few days, or more.

“Patience. The fact she texted us tells me that she will not be at the hotel, and there might not be another letter waiting. And, if there is, it’s not likely to help us much, unless she gives us the name and details of this Jake character. Perhaps the police might know something about him. Whatever the case may be, we will have to report her as missing.”

“Might that be wise in the circumstances?”

Were there circumstances I missed, or did Emily know something I didn’t. After all, she had insisted, before I got the text message that we should go to Cecile’s flat and check if she was there.

“What did I miss?”

“She is trying to tell us the fewer people who know about this the better. That’s what I inferred. She didn’t give us the police contact, her mother did.”

It was something I hadn’t considered. That said, was there also an inference we couldn’t trust the police.

“We’d better be careful what we say when the police arrive then.”

“Agreed. Also, you check the pad, I’m going to look in her secret hiding spot. She might have left something for me.”

A secret hiding spot. Cecile had never told me about that. I tried not to look disappointed. Perhaps I failed.

“It’s a sister thing.” Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

Emily, I knew from the past, wasn’t the most patient of people, and Cecile often said she often ventured where others feared to tread. I was going to have two battles on my hands, the first, trying to find Cecile, and the second, curbing Emily’s self-destructive streak.

Fortunately, there was another knock on the door.

Hopefully, it was the police.

…

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 7

Day 7 – Dealing with contentious issues

…

The Hot-Topic Tightrope: How to Take a Stand on Sensitive Issues Without Losing Your Following

You see it trending. A sensitive, divisive issue is lighting up social media, and a knot forms in your stomach. You have an opinion. A strong one. You feel a pull—a responsibility, even—to use your platform to say something.

But then the doubt creeps in. What if I say the wrong thing? What if half my followers unsubscribe overnight? What if I start a firestorm in my comments that I can’t control?

This is the modern public figure’s dilemma. You want to be authentic and engaged, but you fear the fallout. So, let’s get real about the question everyone is asking: Will taking a stand on a contentious issue cost you readers?

The uncomfortable answer is yes, it probably will. But that’s not the whole story.

The Inevitable (and Good) Loss of Readers

Here’s the thing about taking a stand on something that matters: it’s an act of clarification. You are drawing a line in the sand and saying, “This is what I believe in. This is what I stand for.”

The moment you do that, you create a filter. People who fundamentally disagree with your core values on that issue may indeed leave. They might unfollow, unsubscribe, or simply tune you out. And that’s okay.

In fact, it can be a good thing.

Chasing universal appeal is a recipe for being bland and forgettable. A smaller, deeply engaged audience that shares your values is infinitely more valuable than a massive list of passive followers who feel no real connection to you. The “readers” you lose were likely never your true community to begin with. They were just passers-by.

Think of it this way: you’re not losing followers; you’re refining your community. You’re attracting the people who will champion your work because they see themselves in it. You’re building a tribe, not just a crowd.

How to Avoid Problems: A 5-Step Strategic Framework

While losing some readers may be a natural consequence, starting an unnecessary war is not. You can engage with sensitive topics in a way that is thoughtful, constructive, and minimizes needless drama. The key is to be strategic, not reactive.

Before you hit “publish,” walk through this framework:

1. The ‘Why’ Check: Before You Post

Ask yourself a few critical, honest questions. Your motivation is everything.

Why do I need to say this? Is it to educate, to support a community, to share my unique perspective, or just to vent?
Am I adding value? Is what I’m about to say a new take, a personal story that illuminates the issue, or am I just echoing the noise?
Am I emotionally triggered? If you’re posting from a place of pure rage or fear, take a beat. A considered response is always more powerful than a knee-jerk reaction.

2. Know Your Audience and Your Brand

Context is king. A statement from a political commentator is expected; the same statement from a food blogger might seem jarring. This doesn’t mean you can’t speak out, but it does mean you should be aware of your audience’s expectations. Acknowledge the shift if you need to: “You know me for talking about baking, but today I need to talk about something else that’s on my heart…” This shows self-awareness and respects your audience.

3. Focus on Principles, Not Personalities

This is the golden rule of constructive debate. Frame your argument around your values and principles, not around attacking a person or group.

Instead of: “I can’t believe how ignorant Person X is!”
Try: “I believe in a world where everyone has access to healthcare. Here’s why that principle is so important to me.”

The first statement invites a fight. The second invites a conversation. It’s much harder to argue against someone’s deeply held principles than it is to hurl insults back and forth.

4. Embrace Nuance and Acknowledge Complexity

Few issues are truly black and white. Using absolutist, all-or-nothing language will immediately alienate people who might otherwise be receptive. Show that you’ve considered the complexity of the issue.

Phrases like:

“I know this is a complicated issue with many valid perspectives, but…”
“I’m still learning about this, but my current thinking is…”
“From my personal experience…”

These phrases don’t weaken your argument; they build credibility and show humility. They invite thoughtful discussion rather than a flame war.

5. Prepare for the Pushback (and Have a Plan)

Don’t post and run. Decide in advance how you’ll engage with the response.

Define the line: What constitutes a healthy debate versus harassment or hate speech? Have a clear comment policy in mind.
Decide your level of engagement: Will you reply to questions? Will you correct misinformation? Will you ignore trolls?
Protect your peace: It is 100% acceptable to block, mute, or delete abusive comments. Your platform is your home; you don’t have to entertain vandals.

Knowing your plan beforehand prevents you from being dragged into a draining, unproductive argument in the heat of the moment.

The Power of Knowing When Not to Speak

Finally, one of the most powerful skills you can develop is knowing when silence is the strongest statement. You do not have to comment on everything. Choosing not to speak is a valid and often wise strategic choice.

Consider staying silent if:

You are not deeply informed on the topic and would be adding noise rather than insight.
The issue doesn’t intersect with your expertise or lived experience, and your voice would end up centring yourself instead of amplifying those most affected.
You are not in the right headspace to engage constructively.

Your platform is a tool, not an obligation. Use it intentionally.

Walk the Tightrope with Confidence

Taking a stand as a public figure is a tightrope walk, but it doesn’t have to be a reckless one. Yes, you risk losing some followers, but in doing so, you gain something far more valuable: a clarified brand, a more loyal community, and the integrity that comes from speaking your truth.

The goal isn’t to keep everyone happy. It’s to build something meaningful around what you believe. Be thoughtful, be strategic, and be brave. Your right readers will be right there with you.

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Dar es Salaam

Hidden Gems of Dar es Salaam: 5 Uncrowded Tourist Attractions with Distinctive Charms

When travellers think of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania’s bustling coastal metropolis, images of busy markets, vibrant street life, and oceanfront promenades often come to mind. While landmarks like the National Museum and Kariakoo Market draw large crowds, the city holds a treasure trove of lesser-known attractions that remain delightfully uncrowded. These hidden gems offer authentic cultural experiences, historical depth, and natural beauty—without the usual tourist rush.

If you’re looking to explore Dar es Salaam beyond the well-trodden path, here are five unique, low-traffic tourist attractions that deserve a spot on your itinerary.

1. Msasani Slipway & The Village Museum

Nestled along the tranquil Msasani Peninsula, the Msasani Slipway is a redeveloped shipyard turned lifestyle and cultural hub. Unlike the packed beaches of Oyster Bay, this waterfront area retains a relaxed charm. By day, you can admire traditional dhows being built using age-old techniques—an ode to Dar’s maritime heritage. By evening, local artisans sell crafts, and live Afro-jazz music floats through the air.

Attached to this area is the often-overlooked Village Museum, which offers a beautifully curated journey through Tanzania’s diverse ethnic cultures. Life-sized replicas of traditional homesteads from the Maasai, Chagga, Sukuma, and other communities provide an intimate, educational glimpse into the nation’s heritage. Best of all, the museum rarely sees long lines, making it perfect for a peaceful, reflective visit.

Why it’s special: A rare blend of urban revival, cultural education, and scenic harbour views.

2. Azania Front Lutheran Church (AFLC)

Tucked between colonial-era buildings and modern storefronts in the city centre, the Azania Front Lutheran Church, often called the “Cathedral of Dar,” is an architectural marvel with deep historical roots. Built in the early 20th century during the German colonial period, its red-brick Gothic Revival design stands out amidst the bustling streets.

While not a major tourist hotspot, this Anglican-turned-Lutheran church is a serene sanctuary of stained glass, carved wood, and peaceful acoustics. Visitors are often welcomed by friendly parishioners and may even attend a Sunday service to experience uplifting Swahili gospel hymns.

Why it’s special: A peaceful urban oasis with colonial-era architecture and living spiritual significance—often missed by tour groups.

3. Pugu Hills Forest Reserve

Just a 30-minute drive from downtown Dar es Salaam lies the Pugu Hills Forest Reserve, one of the oldest protected forests in Africa. Designated in 1890, this lush green expanse is home to rare bird species, medicinal plants, and ancient rock art sites believed to be centuries old.

Unlike Tanzania’s more famous national parks, Pugu Hills is rarely visited by tourists. Guided walks with local community rangers offer insights into conservation efforts and indigenous knowledge. The trails wind through misty woodlands and open fields, offering solitude and a breath of fresh air away from city noise.

Why it’s special: A quiet, eco-friendly escape with historical, ecological, and cultural layers—perfect for nature lovers and hikers seeking serenity.

4. Kunduchi Wet ‘n’ Wild (Off-Peak Visits)

While Kunduchi Wet ‘n’ Wild is known as a popular water park, visiting during weekday mornings or outside school holidays reveals a surprisingly uncrowded, family-friendly retreat. This expansive recreational complex features thrilling water slides, relaxing pools, and picnic spaces within a shady coastal forest.

Beyond the rides, the park occasionally hosts cultural performances and seafood barbecues using local recipes. Go early, and you’ll enjoy the amenities with room to breathe—plus, friendly staff often share stories about the park’s evolution from a coconut plantation.

Why it’s special: A dynamic space that transforms from bustling to tranquil, offering fun and cultural flavour when visited off-peak.

5. The Slipway Art Galleries & Pop-Ups

Scattered around The Slipway complex in Msasani, several independent art galleries and pop-up exhibitions showcase works by emerging Tanzanian artists. Spaces like Nafasi Art Space (just a short walk inland) and rotating pop-ups at cafés and studios spotlight contemporary Swahili themes, political commentary, and abstract expressions using local materials.

These galleries are rarely packed, allowing intimate viewing and the chance to chat directly with artists. Many pieces reflect Tanzania’s social fabric, from coastal life to urban youth culture.

Why it’s special: A vibrant, quiet corner of Dar’s creative scene where art meets authenticity.

Final Thoughts: Discover the Dar Less Travelled

Dar es Salaam is more than traffic, skyscrapers, and busy ports. Beneath its fast-paced surface lies a city rich in quiet beauty, cultural depth, and resilient traditions. These five uncrowded attractions exemplify Dar’s hidden heart—accessible, memorable, and refreshingly free from the tourist throngs.

So, the next time you’re in Tanzania’s largest city, step off the beaten path. Whether you’re sipping chai at The Slipway while watching fishermen mend their nets, or tracing ancient rock etchings in Pugu Hills, you’ll discover that Dar es Salaam’s most meaningful moments often happen in silence, solitude, and surprise.

Travel Tip: For the best experience, visit these sites early in the morning or during weekdays. Many locals also recommend hiring a community guide for deeper context and meaningful interactions.

Have you visited any of these hidden spots? Share your quiet adventures in the comments below!

What I learned about writing – I prefer happy endings

Does a Happy Ending Sell Better Than a Tragic One?

In the world of storytelling—be it novels, films, or viral Instagram captions—one timeless truth persists: people love a good joke more than a good poem. Why? Laughter is instant, accessible, and leaves us feeling lighter. A clever punchline slips past our defences; it doesn’t demand melancholy reflection or emotional labour. It simply disarms us with joy.

This raises an intriguing question: Does the happy ending to a story sell better than one that doesn’t?

Let’s explore the art—and business—of conclusions.

The Allure of the Happy Ending

From fairy tales to rom-coms, the template is familiar: trials, tribulations, and—against all odds—love, triumph, or redemption. The hero gets the girl. The villain is vanquished. The lost is found.

Why do these endings dominate mainstream media? Simple: they feel good. In a world brimming with uncertainty, a happy ending offers closure, comfort, and a kind of emotional reassurance. It’s the narrative equivalent of a warm blanket on a rainy day.

Market data supports this. Box office hits like The Avengers: Endgame, Crazy Rich Asians, and even animated films like Frozen lean heavily on uplifting conclusions. Romantic comedies—despite critical eye-rolls—are enduringly popular because audiences crave that final scene: the airport sprint, the heartfelt confession, the kiss in the rain.

Happy endings sell because they affirm hope. They whisper: No matter how dark it gets, things can get better.

The Power of the Unhappy—or Ambiguous—Ending

But let’s not write off the melancholy, the unresolved, or the devastating. Some of the most iconic and impactful stories in history end not with a bow, but with a gasp.

Consider The Great Gatsby, 1984, Requiem for a Dream, or Chinatown. These stories don’t comfort—they challenge. They linger. They haunt. They leave readers and viewers wrestling with questions long after the final page or frame.

Artists like Cormac McCarthy, Lars von Trier, and Sally Rooney have built careers on bittersweet or bleak conclusions—and their work sells. Critically acclaimed. Academically studied. Culturally influential.

Why? Because tragedy moves us. It speaks to the human condition with unflinching honesty. A sad ending can feel more true, more resonant in a world where not every problem has a solution and not every love story lasts.

And let’s not forget the ambiguity. Shows like The Sopranos or Inception end without clear resolution—and yet, they generate massive engagement, endless debates, and cult followings. Sometimes, not knowing is the point.

So, Which Sells Better?

It depends on the audience, the genre, and the purpose of the story.

Mainstream, mass-market stories—especially in film, TV, and commercial fiction—tend to favour endings that uplift. Happy endings dominate bestseller lists and blockbuster charts because they are broadly appealing, emotionally satisfying, and easy to recommend.
Literary fiction, arthouse films, and niche genres often thrive on complexity. These stories aren’t just selling entertainment—they’re selling insight, introspection, and emotional depth. In these realms, a tragic or ambiguous ending isn’t a risk—it’s a statement.

In truth, it’s less about what the ending is and more about how well it’s earned. A happy ending feels hollow if the journey lacks stakes. A tragic ending feels manipulative if it serves shock over substance. The best endings—joyful or sorrowful—are inevitable in hindsight. They resonate because they are truthful to the story that came before.

The Joke vs. The Poem Revisited

Going back to our original observation: a good joke sells better than a good poem. Jokes are immediate. Poems linger. The same applies to endings.

A happy ending is the joke: satisfying, gratifying, widely shared.

A tragic (or ambiguous) ending is the poem: layered, lasting, often underappreciated at first glance.

But the most enduring stories? They find the balance. They make us laugh, then ache. They give us joy tinged with sorrow—or sorrow pierced by hope.

And perhaps that’s what truly sells: not happiness or heartbreak alone, but the courage to be honest.

Whether your story ends with a laugh, a tear, or a quiet sigh, make it real. Because authenticity—more than any plot twist or punchline—is what readers will remember, and return to, again and again.

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Pretoria

Discover Pretoria’s Hidden Gems: Top 5 Under-the-Radar Attractions with Breathtaking Character

Pretoria, South Africa’s administrative capital, is often lauded for its grand government buildings like the iconic Union Buildings and the Voortrekker Monument. However, beyond its political skyline lie quieter, lesser-known treasures that offer unique experiences without the bustling crowds. If you’re seeking tranquillity and rich cultural or natural features, here are five must-visit spots in Pretoria that are off the tourist radar but well worth exploring.

1. Tafelberg Ridge: A Hiker’s Paradise with Panoramic Vistas

Tucked just southeast of Pretoria city centre, Tafelberg Ridge is a geological marvel and a haven for outdoor enthusiasts. This iconic rock formation, also known as “The Table,” rises 150 meters above the surrounding plains and boasts the oldest known rock art in southern Africa—dating back over 2,000 years—created by the San people.

Why Visit?
Hike or rock-climb to the summit for breathtaking 360° views of Pretoria and the surrounding Highveld. The well-maintained trails cater to all fitness levels, and the ridge’s historical significance adds an educational layer to your adventure.
Crowd Tip: Early mornings or weekdays ensure solitude and are perfect for capturing sunrise photos or soaking in the serenity.

2. Pretoria National Botanical Garden: A Verdant Escape

This 280-hectare haven, located on the banks of the Apies River, is a lush sanctuary for nature lovers. Unlike the more crowded urban parks, the Pretoria National Botanical Garden offers a diverse array of indigenous flora, serene waterways, and a suspended canopy walkway.

Why Visit?
Explore themed gardens like the Veld Reserve (showcasing natural landscapes) and the Rock Garden, stroll across the sky bridge for elevated views, or enjoy a peaceful picnic by the lake. It’s a living museum of South Africa’s biodiversity.
Crowd Tip: Weekdays are virtually empty, making it ideal for leisurely strolls or birdwatching among over 160 species.

3. Irene Village: A Step Back in Time

Nestled just outside Pretoria, Irene Village is a quaint, centuries-old settlement that retains its original charm. Once a strategic military town, it now offers a blend of history, architecture, and artisanal flair.

Why Visit?
Wander cobbled streets lined with cobalt-blue houses, visit the Irene Museum (housed in a 19th-century inn), and enjoy farm-to-table dining at local cafés. The village’s tranquillity and preserved heritage make it a time capsule of old Pretoria.
Crowd Tip: Sundays are the quietest, perfect for exploring with a leisurely pace.

4. Church Square: Pretoria’s Cultural Heart

Right in the heart of Pretoria, Church Square is a dynamic yet surprisingly uncluttered space. Often overshadowed by its more ostentatious neighbours, this square is the focal point of the city’s cultural identity.

Why Visit?
Admire the statue of Paul Kruger (South Africa’s first president), attend one of the weekly markets (Fridays and Saturdays), or enjoy street performances and weekend festivals. The square’s mix of politics, art, and history is palpable.
Crowd Tip: Weekdays are calm, offering a chance to reflect among the monuments and learn about Pretoria’s contested past.

5. Pretoria Prison: A Stark Glimpse into the Past

Now a museum, Pretoria Prison is a striking example of colonial-era architecture and a sobering look into South Africa’s political history. Built in 1888, it once held prominent figures like Nelson Mandela and Paul Kruger.

Why Visit?
Walk through the same concrete cells and tunnels that imprisoned freedom fighters, and explore exhibits on the evolution of South Africa’s penal system. The prison’s eerie ambience and historical weight make it a unique and thought-provoking experience.
Crowd Tip: Public tours are intimate, with early morning slots being the least crowded.

Final Thoughts: Pretoria’s Quiet Side Awaits

Pretoria’s lesser-known attractions offer a quieter, more personal way to connect with the city’s rich heritage and natural beauty. Whether you’re hiking to the top of Tafelberg Ridge or sipping coffee in Irene Village, these destinations reveal Pretoria’s soul away from the usual tourist trails. So next time you visit, trade the postcards for a deeper, more reflective journey.

Pro Tip: Pair these experiences with a visit to the Union Buildings or Voortrekker Monument for the perfect mix of iconic and hidden Pretoria!

Ready to discover the unsung gems of Pretoria? Let the adventure begin!

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