Randall’s Ramblings, November 16, 2025

A few deer are continuing to make an appearance, usually before seven a.m. One day this week, there were also fourteen wild turkeys. It’s always great to see the wildlife!

The Detroit Lions beat the Washington Commanders 44-22 to raise their record to 6-3. They play the Philadelphia Eagles tonight. Fingers crossed, Detroit will continue to win.

The Michigan Wolverines kept their playoff hopes alive when they kicked a field goal with time expiring to squeak past the Northwestern Wildcats24-22. The Wolverines are currently 18th in the NCAA rankings, with a 8-2 record. Their next opponent is the Maryland Terrapins.

In a battled between two teams who haven’t won a Big Ten Conference game this year, the Michigan State Spartans lost to the Penn State Nittany Lions 28-10, dropping their record to 3-7, with all seven losses against Big Ten opponents.

In a surprise start to the NBA season, the Detroit Pistons are currently in first place in the Central Division of the Eastern Conference with a 11-2 record. Will this be the year they return to the form of old?

“Cheat your landlord if you can and must, but do not try to shortchange the Muse. It cannot be done. You can’t fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal.” — William S. Burroughs. Compliments of https://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/72-of-the-best-quotes-about-writing.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on November 16th, the forty-sixth Sunday of 2025 and the third one in November. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Joost van den Vondel, Dutch poet and dramatist (Jephtha), often regarded as the greatest writer in Dutch; Abraham Alewijn, Dutch poet and playwright (Puiterveense Helleveeg); Jean-Baptites Le Rond d’Alembert, French enlightenment philosopher and mathematician (Encyclopédie); Peter Andreas Heiberg, Danish author and philologist; Petronella Moens, Frisian author and feminist; Étienne Pivert de Senancour, French author (Obermann); Louis-Honoré Fréchette, Canadian poet; Henri Bosco, French author and poet (Gogol); George S. Kaufman, American playwright (This is Show Business); George Seldes, American investigative journalist; Guo Moruo, Chinese scholar and writer; Eduard Bagritsky, Russian-Soviet poet and journalist (South-West); Michael Arlen [Dikran Kouyoumdjian], British author and scriptwriter (An American Verdict); Joan Lindsay, Australian author (Picnic at Hanging Rock); Warren Sturgis McCulloch, American neurophysiologist and psychiatrist (“A Logical Calculus of the Ideas Immanent in Nervous Activity” with Walter Pitts); Anton [Tom] Koolhaas, Dutch author (Gekke Witte); ohn Whiting, British actor, dramatist and critic (PT Raiders, The Devils, The Good Companions); Betty Hicks, American golfer, author (US Open runner-up 1948, 54); Jose Saramago, Portuguese writer, novelist (Blindness, The Gospel According to Jesus Christ) and Nobel laureate; Renate Rubinstein, German-Dutch author and columnist (Tamar); Chinua Achebe, Nigerian poet and novelist (Things Fall Apart, Christmas in Biafra); Robert Nozick, American philosopher (Anarchy, State, and Utopia); Jane Lazarre, American novelist and essayist (The Mother Knot, Beyond the Whiteness of Whiteness); Hugo Dittberner, German writer; Ebby Thust, German boxing promoter and writer; Bonnie Greer, American-British playwright and critic; John Swartzwelder, American television writer (The Simpsons); Paula Vogel, American playwright (How I Learned to Drive, Mother Play); Piero Falchetta, Italian archivist (Biblioteca Marciana; Robin McKinley, American writer (The Hero and the Crown); Andrea Barrett, American novelist (Servants of the Map); Tahir Shah, British travel writer and explorer; Craig Arnold, American poet (Made Flesh); and Danny Wallace, British author.

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!

Work slowly continued  on my first edit pass of the manuscript for Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion based on reader feedback and make adjustments based on what I think works best. I should finish the first of six/seven edit passes over the next week. Since my last post, there were another four new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 335. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

Anna gathered the items needed for Evie’s tea, unsure of why she wanted a meeting with her, especially out of the house, but it intrigued her nonetheless. She never knew much of family, yet Evie was as close as it came to being a sister. Anna truly appreciated how Evie was attempting to make her father pay for his transgressions.

Having Evie take care of Master Latimer was inspiring, to say the least, especially since he was the one who killed her parents. Anna wasn’t any older than two and a half, so the memory was colored by stories she heard. While she knew of the man’s horrid sins, what she didn’t know was why. But then again, no one knew why Latimer did anything. He was a driven man, and money, power, and evil was at the root of it all.

Once in the gardens, Anna organized the table with great detail. One of her many talents was making things look flawless, even though she never learned proper etiquette. She had, however, seen Evie’s style and grace for long enough that some of it had rubbed off on her. With Evie and even Missus Latimer, mostly, there were few repercussions should something go wrong. With the master, that was not the case. He expected perfection and perfection alone. If not, there was hell to pay.

Both Anna and Evie knew what her father would do to either of them should they not follow his orders. Evie would be beaten and locked in her room. Even worse, Anna could die at his hands.

Anna checked her reflection in the back of a spun silver spoon and smiled before laying one in its place. She was a beautiful young woman, only nineteen. Her chocolate skin glowed, and her raven black hair was beautifully pulled into a bun. On the nights she let it down, it flowed around her face like a frame. Her eyes were the oddest mix of blue and hazel. She squinted, struggling to remember her mother’s eyes, but failed. She’d been told, though, that her mother’s were the same. Anna sighed. She hoped she got something from her mother.

When she was old enough, she asked the others about her parents. She clung to every answer, holding each detail dear to her heart, including the fact that she had her mother’s eyes. While no one knew why they were killed, they were happy to pass on the good things her parents did and the kind of family they were, despite living in slavery.

Coming back to the task at hand, Anna placed various scones, black cherry jelly, and tea on the table. They were all the things Evie would like; most of them were her favorites since she was a child.

 “Anna.”

She heard a voice behind her and spun to find Evie. “How nice to see you.”

When Evie leaned in to hug her, Anna allowed it but wasn’t quite sure if she should return the affection. Evie hugged her before, but it was a habit, as decorum was at the forefront of everything in society. Hugs were usually reserved for deaths, sad times, and times of critical news, like when Evie alerted Anna that Mama Patti was sold.

“What is this about, miss?” Anna wondered if something was wrong. Besides, there was no need for niceties, as time was of the essence for the risk of being discovered.

Evie sat in one of the chairs. “I need to speak to you about something, but I need to make sure that we don’t have any listening ears at all. Only you and me. Understood?”

“I can assure you of that. Your mother be talkin’ with the staff, and your father be on the other side of the fields tending to one of the men over there, likely.” Anna’s voice dropped, not wanting to overstep.

“Likely beating him to a pulp,” Evie finished the thought as Anna’s eyes filled with sadness.

“Yes, that.” Her mouth flattened.

“So, will you sit with me, please?” Evie waved to the free chair. “I don’t know how long we have to talk, so I want to get to this said quickly.”

“I understand,” Anna said. “Would you like to eat?”

“Yes, please. I am famished after a series of horrid dreams last night.”

“Dreams, miss?”

“They were more like memories that came while I was asleep, and there was no other choice but to live through them all over again.”

“I’m so sorry, miss. I hate that so much for you, but I likely have some of those same thoughts and memories, just seeing them from the other side. What would you like to eat?”

“I can serve myself today,” Evie said. “And you can eat as well. Today you are my guest. What I have to say may or may not come as a shock. But if it doesn’t, I will be surprised.” Evie topped a nearby scone with jam, took a bite, and moaned in delight.

“All right,” Anna whispered.

“I was given some documents yesterday from a trusted source. Some of them are originals, and some are only copies, but I think he did the best he could with was available.”

“Alberto?” Anna wrinkled her brow.

“You know?” Evie’s lips parted in awe.

“I know Alberto has been snooping around and collecting things he intended on giving you, but I don’t know what they are or what they say.” Anna moaned as she took a bite of buttered toast. The house butter tasted so much better than what she was ever allowed. She took a moment to inhale the smell before tasting its goodness. To make the butter by hand was one thing but getting to try it on hot toast was another.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Evie smiled.

“It is,” Anna admitted. “I have never tasted it before.” She looked down in shame before changing the subject. “Now, tell me. What is it that you have found out?”

Evie glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “The best I can do is give you a math problem to see if it makes sense to you. Then I can show you the documents I have hidden.”

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 2025 Randall Krzak. All rights reserved