While my two favorite college football teams, the University of Michigan Wolverines and the Michigan State Spartans, are having subpar seasons, the same can’t be said for my favorite NFL team, the Detroit Lions. The Lions have the second-best record in the NFL at this point, 8-1. Only the Kansas City Chiefs have a better record at 10-0. All being well, the Lions will improve today to 9-1. Fingers crossed!
The exodus of leaves from the trees has continued. Fortunately, since we hired someone this year to maintain our lawn, I didn’t have to spend hours raking them up. Yesterday was a sunny and dry day when he came, and he made short order of the leaves, using one of his machines to mulch them.
The deer, squirrels, birds, and wild turkeys continue to feast on the offerings we put out for them. I saw a young buck yesterday evening, and yesterday morning eleven turkeys dropped by. Of course, the squirrels and birds visit throughout every day. It’s great to see the wildlife!
“You know that fiction, prose rather, is possibly the roughest trade of all in writing. You do not have the reference, the old important reference. You have the sheet of blank paper, the pencil, and the obligation to invent truer than things can be true. You have to take what is not palpable and make it completely palpable and also have it seem normal and so that it can become a part of experience of the person who reads it.” – Ernest Hemingway. Compliments of https://getfreewrite.com/blogs/writing-success/32-inspirational-hemingway-quotes-to-get-you-writing.
So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on November 17th, the third Sunday of the month. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).
George Grote, British historian (History of Greece); August Wilhelm Ambros, Austrian Czech musicologist (History of Music); Petko Slaveykov, Bulgarian revolutionary writer, poet and politician; Voltairine de Cleyre, American anarchist, writer and speaker; Crane Wilbur, American director and writer (Bat, Canon City, Yellow Cargo); Gregorio López y Fuentes, Mexican author of the Mexican Revolution known for “El Indio”; Roger Vitrac, French poet and dramatist (Coup of Trafalgar); Adam Ważyk [Adam Wagman], Polish poet and author (Eyes & Mouth); Gerald Savory, British actor playwright and TV producer (Heart of the Matter); Ellis Hillman, British Labour party politician, lecturer, and writer (London Under London); Dahlia Ravikovitch, Israeli poet and translator; Auberon Waugh, British author and journalist (Private Eye); Steven E. de Souza, American scriptwriter and producer (Die Hard, Commando); Mark “Chopper” Read, Australian criminal and crime author (Chopper: From the Inside); and Christopher Paolini, American novelist known for “The Inheritance Cycle”.
Any names familiar to you? There weren’t any for me this week. Whether you recognize anyone on the list or not, if today’s your special day I hope you have a great one!
My Work In Progress
The first draft of Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thriller Book 2 is now finished. Chapters forty and forty-one were completed and posted to 
the two online subscription writing sites I use. Since my last blog post, the story has received another twenty-one chapter reviews, bringing the total to 599. Now the fun begins–going through the reviews and picking out what I want to use to improve the story.
Here’s another snippet:
As Prince Sami stopped to study the small village, Wazir nudged him. “Prince Sami, we must return to the vehicle—now!”
“Why so soon? I want to stretch my legs more before we continue.”
“Did you not see the four men with AK-47s?”
“Yes, but I thought it was a common sight given the situation in Yemen.”
Wazir sighed. “They were Houthis. You are well-dressed for this part of Yemen, and therefore, you might be kidnapped for ransom. Hurry, we must go.”
“Oh.”
They rushed to the vehicle and climbed inside.
Yusuf glanced at them from behind the steering wheel. “Houthis?”
“Yes.” Wazir gestured over his shoulder. “Four of them.”
Yusuf put the SUV into gear and pulled out on the highway. “Keep an eye out for them following us.” As he drove, he reached under his seat and pulled out his AK-47.
Wazir did the same. “Prince Sami, there is a weapon under your seat. I assume you know how to use one?”
“Of course.” He scoffed. “One doesn’t grow up in Saudi Arabia without learning to protect oneself—even if they are forbidden.”
Yusuf glanced in the rearview mirror. “So far, no one is following us.” He continued following the road, now crumbling in parts. “So, did you find something to eat?”
“Just a minute, and I will give you something.” Wazir scooped a portion of the food into a smaller bag and handed it to Yusuf. “Here is yours. Do you think we should stop to eat?”
Yusuf shook his head. “Perhaps in a few miles. I want more distance from Al Milah before pulling over.” As he rounded a bend, he slowed.
Ahead, four Houthi men brandished weapons as they manned a checkpoint. Dressed in civilian clothes, signs behind them held Houthi slogans: God is Greater, Death to America, Death to Israel, Curse on the Jews, Victory to Islam.
Yusuf inched forward, coming to a halt beside one of the men.
“Salam alaikum.”
Yusuf nodded. “Wa alaykum as-salam.”
“Why are you on this road?”
“We are returning to Sana’a from Aden.”
The terrorist frowned. “Who is with you?”
“My cousin.” Yusuf gestured toward Wazir. “And a friend of ours who just returned from overseas.”
The man grunted. “There is now a tax for using this road. You must pay two hundred rials per person.” He reached out a hand.
“Just a minute.” Yusuf pulled out the envelope, counted the money, and handed it over.
After counting the notes, the terrorist nodded. “You are short. I said two hundred per person, but there is also a tax for the vehicle—another two hundred.”
“But …” Yusuf sighed as he counted out another two hundred rials. “May we go now?”
“Yes. There are other checkpoints as you drive north. Some of our friends might not be so generous as I have been and will want to inspect your vehicle.”
“Yusuf nodded. “Shukran.”
The man waved them forward.
Yusuf drove ahead, gathering speed as they left the checkpoint behind. “Keep your weapons handy. I have a bad feeling.”
An hour later, they continued climbing in elevation as they approached Ad Dali.
Prince Sami wrapped his thobe tighter around his body. “It is getting cold.”
“Yes. Ad Dali is at about one thousand five hundred meters.” Wazir gestured behind the prince. “If you are too cold, there should be a blanket in the rear.”
The prince turned around and rummaged in the back. “Yes, I found one. Shukran.”
They passed through Ad Dali without incident, although they had to drive slower due to the myriad of animals and people on the road.
North of the city, Yusuf once again picked up speed. “We will be in Sana’a within two hours.”
Prince Sami yawned. “Good. I am tired from this long and boring drive.”
“At least we made it through the check—”
Three bullets smashed through the windshield, with shards of glass peppering Yusuf and Wazir.
Prince Sami slumped in his seat, blood spreading across his left shoulder, staining his thobe a bright red.
Perhaps more next time.
This brings us to an end for another week. I hope you found something of interest. If you have any suggestions for a topic you’d like to read about, please let me know. Until the next time, thank you for reading and hope you drop in again.
© Copyright 2024 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved
