Tag: thrillers

Randall's Ramblings

Randall’s Ramblings, December 7, 2025

Randall Krzak

There’s been more squirrels visiting than we’ve seen for some time. Same with the birds, deer, and turkeys. I suppose it’s due to the colder temperatures. The kittens we adopted certainly are enjoying the visitors as they spend time on our enclosed deck checking them out. One squirrel even ventured onto the deck railing and one of the kittens ran to the screen to investigate. The squirrel seemed to sense the kitten couldn’t get any closer and it continued to eat the bird seed we left for our visitors.

The Detroit Lions defeated the Dallas Cowboys on Thursday evening, roaring past them 44-30. Their record improved to 8-5, and are still in the hunt for a NFC wildcard playoff spot. Of course, they probably need to win their remaining games to do this as NFL.com only gives them a 54 percent chance of making it.

The Detroit Pistons played four games in the past week, winning three and losing one. They still have the best record in the Eastern Conference, with a 19-5 record and are in first place in the Central Division, 5.5 games ahead of second place Cleveland.

The third-ranked Michigan Wolverines extended their winning record to 8-0 with a convincing win over Rutgers, 101-60. This is the third consecutive game in which Michigan scored 100 or more points. Meanwhile, the seventh ranked Michigan State Spartans suffered a defeat at home to Duke, 66-60, taking their record to 8-1.

“Genius gives birth, talent delivers. What Rembrandt or Van Gogh saw in the night can never be seen again. Born writers of the future are amazed already at what they’re seeing now, what we’ll all see in time for the first time, and then see imitated many times by made writers.”
– Jack Kerouac, Writers Digest. 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 December 7th, the forty-ninth Sunday of 2025 and the first one in December. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Abū-Sa’īd Abul-Khayr, Persian mystic and poet; Allan Cunningham, Scottish poet and author; Johann Nestroy, Austrian actor, singer and playwright (Judith und Holofernes); Otto Ammon, German anthropologist and sociologist (schedelmetingen); Paul Adam, French writer (La Bataille d’Uhde); Svetolik Ranković, Serbian writer (Forest King); Johan Huizinga, Dutch culture historian (Homo Ludens); Willa Cather, American Pulitzer-Prize winning author (One of Ours; My Ántonia); Akiko Yosano, Japanese poet (Tangled Hair); Heywood Broun, American journalist (1st President of American Newspaper Guild); Joyce Cary, Anglo-Irish writer (House of Children); Jacques Gans, Dutch author and journalist; Leigh Brackett, American sci-fi author (Ginger Star); Tatamkhulu Afrika, South African poet and writer; Noam Chomsky, American linguist (founded transformational grammar), philosopher and political activist; Kumar Shahani, Indian writer and director (Kasbam Tarang, Maya Darpan); James Tate, American poet (Pulitzer Prize 1992); Nikola Wapzarow, Bulgarian poet and writer; and Mohamed Diab, Egyptian screenwriter and director (Cairo 678, Marvel’s Moon Knight).

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 second edit pass on the manuscript for Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion is now underway. Edits are based on reader feedback and make adjustments based on what I think works best.  There were another three new chapter reviews, bringing the total to 344. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

Izabella flinched as she peered around the ballroom. Where on earth was Annabelle? Being a hostess and having to chase down her daughter and Annabelle was the most nightmarish debacle that Izabella ever found herself in the middle of. Both girls were thorns in her side.

She pondered whether anyone would recognize her family dynamics were unlike anything they allowed the public to perceive. In truth, Izabella felt a bit sorry for her niece from time to time, but it was much better to remain silent.

The repercussions of telling anyone what happened to her sister were terrifying. Still, Izabella didn’t regret the favor she received by showing loyalty and respect to the man she called her husband. He possessed a degree of handsomeness, even as callous as he was. The luxury in which Izabella found herself living was nothing to dismiss either. She could, on a technicality, be a slave.

The only real drawback to her agreeable life was living as Evangeline’s mother. The one reprieve from restless nights, caring for the wailing infant Evie, was in having her handmaiden. Izabella was not an evil woman, and she would never allow anyone to imply it. Still, the welling of guilt gnawing at the back of her mind left a shadow that crept up, attempting to stifle her words. While it terrorized her, it also taught Izabella the value of silence.

How easy was it to remain unassuming if one merely slipped into the shadows and minded their manners? If she didn’t choose to do so on her own, her husband would have made sure by other means that she was silenced.

Peculiar was the most fitting word for her daughter; but as she considered it, what else could she have expected? A smile plastered across her face, and the beauty of her visage was the only thing Izabella ever needed. As she saw it, her sister’s belligerence and stupidity were her problems and no one else’s.

If she possessed any sense at all, she would have long ago learned to use the beauty she was blessed with to beguile gentlemen.

Izabella and Vivien were fools to think their beauty, paired with a sharp tongue, would be sufficient to stay safe. And most assuredly in Tankard Town, in the heart of the Confederacy, no less. Though, as Izabella moved through the parlor, she could not help but wonder how differently things may have gone if Abraham Lincoln hadn’t been exiled. If only the North had prevailed.

But they hadn’t, and Izabella’s wits were the thing that kept not only her but her niece safe. Who was anyone to judge her for doing the best with what she was given? Still, the way Annabelle regarded her was like a nagging itch in the back of her mind. Izabella wrung her hands. Somehow, in some way, the girls put two and two together.

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 30, 2025

Randall Krzak

I didn’t have a chance to complete last Sunday’s post as we were dealing with the second loss of a pet this month. Hope, our fifteen-year-old who we adopted back in 2014, had a gastro-intestinal carcinoma and was euthanized. She joined Alfie, who lost his fight with a heart condition on November 3rd.

We’ve given a home to two feral kittens who were born on August 22nd. They’re live wires, until they tucker themselves out. We’ve named the boy, Leo, and the girl is Lucy.  So far, Tommy our feral from Michigan who has been with us since 2017, doesn’t seem to impressed with the newcomers, but he should settle down eventually.

There’s been plenty of wildlife visitors this week: deer, wild turkeys, squirrels, and birds. The kittens are enjoying watching them on the deck!

The Detroit Lions lost to the Green Bay Packers on Thanksgiving Day, dropping their record to 7-5. They’re still in the hunt for a post-season playoff position, but need to win the rest of their games and hope for some help from other teams.

The Detroit Pistons saw their thirteen-game winning streak snapped as they lost two games. They won last night and are still in first place in the Eastern Conference’s Central Division, with a 16-4 record.

The Michigan Wolverines lost to the Ohio State Buckeyes 27-9, dropping their record to 9-3, while Ohio State remains undefeated. The Wolverines are out of the college playoff picture, but will still be invited to a bowl game.

Meanwhile, the Michigan State Spartans upped their record to 4-8 with a 38-28 win over Maryland. Unfortunately, the Spartans are not bowl-eligible this year as a minimum of six wins are needed.

Each writer is born with a repertory company in his head. Shakespeare has perhaps 20 players .… I have 10 or so, and that’s a lot. As you get older, you become more skillful at casting them.” —Gore Vidal. 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 30th, the forty-eigth Sunday of 2025 and the fifth and final one in November. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Veronica Gambara, Italian poet; Philip Sidney, English Elizabethan era poet (Arcadia) and soldier; Louis-Sébastien Le Nain de Tillemont, French ecclesiastical historian; Johnathan Swift, Irish author and satirist (Gulliver’s Travels, A Modest Proposal); John Toland, Irish rationalist philosopher; Hermann Kurz, German poet and novelist (Schillers Heimatjahre); Louise-Victorine Ackermann, French poet (works characterized by a deep sense of pessimism); Theodor Mommsen, German historian and scholar (A History of Rome) who won the 1902 Nobel Prize in Literature; Henri Ernest Baillon, French botanist (History of Plants); Mark Twain, American author (Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer); József Kiss, Hungarian literary (Zsido Dalok); John McCrae, Canadian physician, soldier and poet (In Flanders Fields); Lucy Maud Montgomery,Canadian author (Anne of Green Gables), Winston Churchill, British Prime Minister (Conservative: 1940-45, 1951-55) during World War II, and writer (Nobel Prize in Literature, 1953); John Tasker Howard, American composer and music historian; Corneel Goossens, Flemish literary figure and art historian; Jacques Barzun, French author (The House of Intellect); Robert Lax, American poet (The Circus of the Sun; The Peacemaker’s Handbook); Anne Wadman, Dutch writer who wrote in Frisian (Fioele & faem, Smearlappen); Robert Evett, American composer, writer, editor, and music critic; oan Ganz Cooney, American educational television writer and producer (co-founder of the Children’s Television Workshop; Sesame Street); Adeline Yen Mah, Chinese-American writer (Falling Leaves) and physician; David Mamet, American playwright (Speed the Plow, House of Games); Sergio Badilla Castillo, Chilean poet; Keith Giffen, American comic book writer and artist (Legion of Super-Heroes, Justice League); Joël Champetier, French Canadian science fiction author (La Taupe et le Dragon; Survie sur Mars); Daniel Keys Moran, American sci-fi writer (The Great Wheel of Existence); David Nicholls, English novelist and screenwriter (One Day); Chris Weitz, American screenwriter and director (About a Boy, The Golden Compass); and David Auburn, American screenwriter, theatre director and playwright (Proof; Summer, 1976).

Any names familiar to you? There were three for me this week: Johnathan Swift, Mark Twain, and Winston Churchill. 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

Since my last post I’ve completed the first edit pass on 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. There were another eight new chapter reviews, bringing the total to 341. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

“I am making an assembly in the ballroom. I would like for you to join us there.” Izabella stared her down, lifting her chin a bit too high.

“But of course, mistress. I will be there momentarily.” Anna replied with a curtness that came out rather abrupt. At least, far more than she anticipated.

“What was that, Annabelle?” Izabella’s mouth twisted as her hard eyes narrowed. The woman looked slightly miffed as her finely contoured brow instantly perked above her right eye.

Anna bowed, avoiding Izabella’s challenging stare, lowered her head and curtsied. “I will be there in haste, Madam Latimer. Most certainly,” Anna murmured.

“Humph. See that you do, or else I might have to see to your disciplining.” Izabella scoffed as she glanced down at her. Her fairer skin seemed to tinge as her cheeks flushed.

Anna knew better than to lift her chin, or else the tines of Izabella’s beautifully cut Marquis Diamond might meet her cheek and leave a nasty cut. Worse, she would be made to clean the mess and suffer the ridiculing of someone who would be in her same position if it weren’t for the governor.

Anna wanted more than anything to spit out her thoughts but knew better than to do anything of the sort. Risking Evie would be selfish, and it was something she couldn’t bring herself to do. No matter how angry Izabella might have made her, betrayal was beneath her, and Anna waited patiently as the woman shuffled her petticoats.

Something large and black suddenly darted across the floor, just adjacent to the door, and Izabella immediately froze in place.

“Ah! Good God!” Izabella’s hand flew up to her chest as her jaw dropped. “What on earth is that?”

Anna glanced where Izabella pointed, her lips curving into a slight grin upon realizing what it was.

“It would appear your daughter has been building automatons again, Madam Latimer,” Anna remarked.

“But what is it?” she hissed. “Oh, my heavens!” She stepped back with a frown. “Is that a mouse?” She groaned as she pointed at the creature again. “Hurry, remove it! Ugh, what did that refinery teach her? This is not ladylike!” But, Izabella knew full well, it was the tutoring of her husband that gave rise to Evie’s menagerie of automaton animals.

Each statement found Anna hiding the smile that twitched at the edges of her lips. She bit back a chuckle. Izabella’s fear of a mouse, even a mechanical one, was just enough to soothe the pain of Anna’s position—at least for the time being.

Following her mistress’s request, Anna scooped up the mechanical creature and looked it over.

“Indeed, mistress. It is a mouse. Or maybe a rat?” Her eyes widened.

“Oh! No, please! Stomp it! Get rid of it!” Izabella turned and laid a hand on her forehead, groaning in disgust. “Whatever you do, I never wish to see the creature again.”

“I will get rid of it hastily, madam.” Anna headed toward the door.

Izabella exhaled with a sigh so loud she might have heard it from the servants’ quarters.

“Oh, I swear this house will be the death of me. God, deliver me from this world of calamity!”

Once the door closed, Anna rolled her eyes, thinking the woman knew nothing of calamity, but still smiled at Evangeline’s newest creature. Its arrival was perfect timing, and Anna wondered if there was any way Evie could have operated it from a distance. Could Evangeline be that innovative? That intelligent?

Anna took the mouse and placed it into her apron pocket, determining that she would hold onto it. How could she destroy something that brought her both a smile and peace at a moment she so sorely needed it?

How could she destroy something that was made by the hands of her sister?

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 16, 2025

Randall Krzak

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!

My Work In Progress

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, November 9, 2025

Randall Krzak

After a long and valiant fight against asthma and a heart condition, Alfie was euthanized last Sunday at the University of Georgia. The plan was to give him a pacemaker this past Monday, but, with the greatest of regret, we had to let him go. Farewell, my gentle boy!

The Detroit Lions lost last weekend, dropping their record to 5-3. They’re still in second place in the NFC North Division. Today, they play the Washington Commanders. I hope they can bounce back!

The 7-2 Michigan Wolverines and the 3-6 Michigan State Spartans both had byes this week. Let’s see if they can keep things going next week!

“Who wants to become a writer? And why? Because it’s the answer to everything. … It’s the streaming reason for living. To note, to pin down, to build up, to create, to be astonished at nothing, to cherish the oddities, to let nothing go down the drain, to make something, to make a great flower out of life, even if it’s a cactus.” — Enid Bagnold. 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 9th, the forty-fifth Sunday of 2025 and the second on in November. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Paul Aler, French jesuit and poet (Gradus ad Parnassum); Mark Akenside, English poet and physician; Julie de Lespinasse, French aristocrat, hostess and writer; Elijah Parish Lovejoy, American newspaper publisher and abolitionist; Ivan Turgenev, Russian novelist, poet and playwright (Fathers & Sons); Matthias de Vries, Dutch linguist (spelling); Émile Gaboriau, French writer (father of the French detective novels); Emmanuel de Bom, Flemish author (Wrakken); Bohdan Lepky, Ukrainian writer and poet; Allama Iqbal, Indian philosopher and poet; Velimir Khlebnikov, Russian poet and playwright; Erika Mann, German-American author (Other Germany); (Hendrik) “Henk” van Randwijk, Dutch poet, WWII resistance fighter, journalist, and newsweekly editor-in-chief (Vrij Nederland, 1941-50); Tabish Dehlvi, Pakistani poet; Sir Alistair Horne, British historian and journalist (A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954–1962); Anne Sexton (née Harvey), American Pulitzer Prize-winning poet (Live or Die; The Awful Rowing Toward God); Imre Kertesz, Hungarian writer (Nobel Laureate 2002); Marian Christy, American author (Invasions of Privacy); American scientist, astronomer and author (Broca’s Brain, Cosmos, Contact) known for his research on extraterrestrial life; Ronald Harwood, South African playwright and screenwriter (The Dresser); Donald Trelford, English journalist and editor (Observer Newspaper 1975-93); Roger McCough, British poet (The Mersey Sound); Ti-Grace Atkinson, American feminist author; and Bill Mantlo, American comic book writer (Micronauts).

Any names familiar to you? There was one for me this week: Carl Sagan. 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

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. Since my last post, there were another eight new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 331. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

A knock sounded at the door of Latimer Manor.

Felipe Vanderbilt was escorted inside the study, where Latimer sat in an oversized, red velvet chair. “Good evening, Governor Latimer.

“Indeed, it is.” Latimer’s bright green eyes flicked to the man.

“I’ve news to share with you, sir.” Felipe lowered his gaze.

“What of it?” Latimer snorted slightly as his eyes weighed on Felipe, waiting for him to make eye contact again.

“There was an issue with the autostoker on Pawnee Street this evening.” Felipe swallowed, waiting.

“Was there?”

Felipe nodded.

“Well, handle it, then. I know you can do so without my direct intervention.” Latimer raised a brow and adjusted his cufflinks. He narrowed his beady eyes and fluffed the side of his straw-like hair, which seemed to be a bit yellower than usual.

Felipe knew better than to comment upon such matters. Everyone knew not to say anything of the like to the governor. Men that said less vanished without a trace or were beaten to an unrecognizable pulp.

“I don’t think you understand, Governor Latimer.” The man winced. No matter how he tried to speak to Latimer without betraying his fear, he failed miserably.

“What do you mean?” Latimer lifted his eyes, narrowing them even more upon Felipe.

“Your daughter was the catalyst for the incident, sir,” Felipe responded.

“Evangeline?” He snorted louder than he intended. “Are you quite sure of it?”

“One of your automatons spotted her yesterday in town around about the autostoker in question. It was the morning after she stayed with her friend, Rebecca Telford,  and attended her coming-out party.”

“What did she supposedly do to the stoker?”

“The report says she pulled a pin on the running mechanism that stopped it in its tracks,” Felipe said. “Sir.” He swallowed, pausing for effect.

“Yes…” Latimer drew out his word.

“She was with a man, sir.” Felipe shrunk, wondering if he was going to get a lashed back.

“And do we know this…” Latimer hissed like a snake as he stood to his feet. “Man?”

“No, sir,” Felipe said.

“Is… she… home?” Latimer snarled.

“I believe so, sir. Last report was that she was in the gardens with that servant girl of hers.”

“Stay here, Felipe.” He took to the door, rounding the house to the backside gardens. “Evangeline Elizabeth Latimer, front and center now,” he screamed. “You are dismissed,” he added with clenched teeth when he got close enough to Anna that she jumped.

Giving his daughter a terrified look, the slave scurried away, leaving Latimer alone with Evie.

“What is this about, Father?” Evie’s lips curved as she batted her eyes, dropping her gaze.

“Don’t father me, Evangeline. Where were you yesterday morning?”

“I-I w-was in t-town, sir.”

“And what did you do to one of my autostokers?” Latimer waited to see if she would tell him the truth.

“I took a pin from it, Father.” Evie stared at him with a look of innocence.

All it did was make him even hotter under the collar. He didn’t expect her to be honest, and now that she was, his face flushed. He was never known as the most genteel man, yet he curled his fists so hard his palms bled as he stood. He was the ruler of these parts and deserved respect.

“And your reasoning behind it?” He shot her a stoic look.

“I was angry at you, Father. It was so foolish of me to do such a thing,” she admitted.

 For half a second, his heart fluttered. “And why were you angry at me?”

“You sold my favorite horse, Father.”

Latimer stared at her, unable to determine if it were a lie or the truth. “Thomasina?”

“One and the same.” Evie crossed her arms.

“I don’t remember you ever giving two cares about that glue bag.” He scowled. “Why the disdain?”

“It wasn’t the horse at all, Father.”

When she stepped closer, he could read a small amount of anger in her eyes.

“There was one of my inventions in its saddlebag.”

“I didn’t get rid of her saddlebag, Evie!”.

“Oh, Daddy!” Evie turned, heading towards the stables, presumably to find whatever was in that bag.

“Evangeline!” He shouted again, causing her to jump and face him. “Where is the pin to my autostoker?”

“Here.” She pouted as she pulled the pin from her hair and handed it to him. “Will that be all?”

“No. There is something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Who was the man that you were with yesterday?”

She blushed. “I was going to keep him to myself for a while.”

“Give your father a clue, then. A name at least, or where you met him.”

“I met him at the coming-out.” Evie sighed. “His name is Jefferies, Thomas Jefferies.”

“Hmm.” He tried to recall anyone with that name but drew a blank. “This name does not strike a chord.”

“It wouldn’t,” she said. “He is visiting from up north. You would like him, Daddy. He’s White Utopian Supremacy.”

“Very nice.” He was unsure if his one and only daughter was telling the truth.

“May I go now, Daddy?” She batted her eyelashes.

“Yes, dear.” Latimer closed the gap between them and kissed her cheek, holding out his hand.

She placed the pin on his palm.

He nodded for her to leave and watched as she walked towards the stables, the anger still bubbling under the surface of his relaxed facade before turning for the house. He didn’t think she was telling the whole truth.

He  entered his study. “”Felipe, here is the pin. Can you have it replaced?”

“Y-Yes, s-sir. R-Right away.” Felipe got to his feet and headed towards the door.

“One more thing, Felipe.” Latimer walked towards his friend. “Keep an eye on my daughter. If she so much as moves out of line, let me know. And find out what you can on a Thomas Jefferies. He would have been at that coming-out party two nights back.”

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, October 26, 2025

Randall Krzak

At last! We’ve seen three deer a couple of times this week. I think most days, they’re comig either before the sun comes up or after it goes down.  The leaves are also starting to turn. There’s one tree that is now a blaze of gold–not sure what type of tree it is and we only have one, but it’s spectacular-looking!

Alfie, our long-haired cat from Scotland, has been in intensive care all week. He came home yesterday with a big bag of meds–nine to be precise. I think I can take him off the appetite stimulate as he’s eating at home just fine and starting to groom himself. He’s still not out of the woods with his heart problem, but the vet said he could come home as he’s now breathing on his own. Fingers crossed that he continues to improve.

The Detroit Lions Detroit beat Tampa Bay on Monday night, 24-7, raising their record to 5-2. They’re currently in second place in the NFC North Division and have a bye this week.

The Michigan Wolverines and the Michigan State Spartans played each other last time. The Wolverines came out on top, 31-20, and raised their record to 6-2. Meanwhile, The Spartans dropped to 3-5. Hopefully, the Wolverines will move up the rankings from 25th.

My Published Work

I found out this week that Mission: Yemen, Xavier Sear Thrill Book 2 is now on the 2025 Chanticleer International Book Awards short list for Global Thrillers. Needless to say, I’m thrilled.

Of course, there is plenty of competition to see who makes it onto the semi-finalists list. Not sure when that will be announced, but will let everyone know when it is.

“I’m out there to clean the plate. Once they’ve read what I’ve written on a subject, I want them to think, ‘That’s it!’ I think the highest aspiration people in our trade can have is that once they’ve written a story, nobody will ever try it again.” — Richard Ben Cramer. 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 October 26th, the forty-third Sunday of 2025 and the fourth and final one in October. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Ahmad Baba, Islamic jurist and writer (biographical dictionary of the Mālikī); Dimitrie Cantemir, Romanian historian and Monarch of Moldova (1710-11); Karl Leonhard Reinhold, Austrian philosopher (elementary philosophy); Charles Sprague, American banker and poet (Curiosity); Karl Weinhold, German sociologist (founder of Journal of the Association of Folklore); Napoleon Hill, American writer and philosopher (Think and Grow Rich); Mark Aldanov, Russian-French writer and critic (Novy Zhurnal); Runar Schildt, Finnish writer (Segrande Eros); Miloš Crnjanski, Serbian poet (Seobe); John S Knight, American journalist and publisher (Knight Newspapers); Karin Boye, Swedish writer (Kallocain); Sorley MacLean, Scottish poet (Poems to Eimhir and Other Poems); Stuart J. Byrne, American sci-fi author (Star Man, God Man); an Wolkers, Dutch sculptor and novelist (Turks fruit (Turkish Delight); Kort Amerikaans (Crew Cut)); John Arden, English novelist and playwright (Left Handed Liberty); Ulrich Plenzdorf, German writer (Die neuen Leiden des jungen W.); Demetris Th. Gotsis, Greek poet and author; Trevor Joyce, Irish poet (The Poems of Sweeny Peregrine); Andrew Motion, English poet (British Poet Laureate 1999-2009); and Jennifer Roberson, American sci-fi author (Shapechangers, Sword-Maker).

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

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. Since my last post, there were another four new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 323. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

Evie retrieved the things she left in the woods, made her way back home, and headed to her room via the service door, which was not uncommon. It’s how she often visited her favorite people in the manor.

After she got to her room, Evie looked for the items she took to the Telford’s the night before. She found a few things hidden under her bed and sighed. As instructed, they were delivered, and Anna stored them out of sight.

With the thought of Anna, she wondered how she could have the discussion she needed with her newly discovered sister. She wanted to right away, but doing so in the house could be dangerous. At the very least, they needed to be outside.

Anna appeared in her doorway. “Do you need anything, miss?”

“Could you set up tea in the garden tomorrow for two?”

“Yes, Miss.” Anna started to leave.

 “Anna, you will be my second.” Evie waited for her to face her. “I have a few things I would like to discuss with you, if that is alright?”

“Yessum, miss. That sounds right nice.” Anna smiled as she left.

Evie grinned at seeing her sister so happy. She supposed that deep down, there was something more there all along. Now that she knew the truth, it only strengthened the bond.

She headed towards her bed to lie down for a bit, but before she could, she set Prissy on the table and picked up the mantis. She placed the critter on her bed and let it work its magic. The mantis was nearly six inches long and much heavier than Prissy. The clockwork creature moved side to side across the bed, turning down the covers.

For something so small, the mantis posed amazing strength and could do miraculous things. It was one of Evie’s favorite creations. Sure, she could have pulled her covers back herself, but she enjoyed giving the automaton creations a chance to shine. After the mantis finished, she plucked him up and set him back where he belonged.

Evie laid down on her bed and smiled. This luxury was her favorite, and the only good part about being Barnabas Latimer’s daughter. She clapped her hands together, and mechanical creatures of varying kinds and uses crawled out of nowhere. Most were small, like the kitten that picked up her shoes or the dog that licked the carpets clean. But then there were the bigger ones:  the tigress that walked back and forth by her doorway to guard her. There was even a massive chimp that swung around, closing the curtains.

They all played to her comfort level. In the middle of all this wonder, Evie was at home. It wouldn’t matter where she was. As long as they were with her, she was happy. They were her friends. Each had a name, and while her mother suggested they were senseless creations, they all had a purpose. It was those times she wondered if her mother new of her father’s armory of creatures meant of evil.

Within seconds, a drug-like lull of sleep blanketed over Evie. The sensation was warm and cozy, and while she liked the moments just before slumber, the dreams were soon to follow.

A little girl sat on a grand staircase. Her friend, Anna, was screaming in the distance. That was the first time Anna received a beating that she knew of. Evie was only four, barely old enough to understand what was happening. 

Why was there so much blood and screaming?

A couple, two slaves, from what she could tell, were murdered. But by whom? Was it her father? Why did he kill them just right then and there? She was crying. Oh my. Was she the reason why? Did her daddy think Mr. and Mrs. Wingland were hurting her?

Father said it was all in the name of war, but the little girl didn’t know what war was, to begin with. 

The image went away and drifted into something else.

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, August 10, 2025

Randall Krzak

After weeks of hot, sticky temperatures, sometimes reaching 100 degrees, and plenty of thunderstorms, the past week saw temperatures ranging from 68-82 degrees, mostly in the mid-70s. There was plenty of showers but no thunderstorms.  The forecast for the upcoming week appears to show temperatures creeping back up into the upper 80s and a return of thunderstorms.

All week, we’ve seen a flurry of activity from the deer, with as many as six adults and three fawns at the same time. The fawns also seem to be venturing out on their own, as on several occasions, they were unaccompanied. It’s great to see them enjoying themselves!

The Detroit Tigers continued their losing ways this week, winning only two of six games. With their record now at 67-51, their hold on first place in the  American League’s Central Division has dwindled to five games over second-place Cleveland. Hopefully, they’ll be able to snap out of whatever’s causing their doldrums and get back to their winning ways like when they led their division by fourteen games. Go Tigers!

“A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.” ― Dylan Thomas. Compliments of https://www.nicolemgulotta.com/blog/25-inspirational-quotes.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on August 10th, the thirty-second Sunday of 2025 and the second one in August. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Philipp Nicolai, German Lutheran pastor, poet, composer and hymnodist; Leopold Zunz, German Jewish scholar (Science of Judaism); Abai Qunanbaiuli, Kazakh poet, composer and philosopher; John Scott Lidgett, English theologist; Lawrence Binyon, English poet (For the Fallen); Alfred Döblin, German Modernist writer known for “Berlin Alexanderplatz”; Panait Istrati, Romanian writer (“Adrian Zografu” cycle); Voranc Prezikov [Lovro Kuhar], Slovenian author (Samorastniki); Mikhail Zoshchenko, Russian author and satirist; Piet Bakker, Dutch journalist and novelist (Ciske the Rat); Curt Siodmak, German-American novelist and screenwriter (Donovan’s Brain; I Walked With A Zombie); Era Bell Thompson, American magazine editor (Ebony); A. N. Sherwin-White, English ancient historian; Angus Campbell, American psychologist (Elections & Political Order); Jorge Amado de Faria, Brazilian writer (O Pais do Carnaval); Alastair Mackie, Scottish poet and teacher; Barry Unsworth, English novelist (Pascali’s Island); Mark Doty, American poet and prose writer known for “My Alexandria”; Suzanne Collins, American author (The Hunger Games Trilogy); Cate Shortland, Australian film director and screenwriter (Somersault; Lore; Black Widow); and Ted Geoghegan, American filmmaker of horror and 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!

My Work In Progress

I’ve finished editing chapters in the manuscript of Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion based on reader feedback. Now the real work begins as I adapt the readers comments into the original manuscript.  There were another four new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 276. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

General Grant relocated his headquarters to City Point, Virginia. He put out word he wanted an update from Finn. A week later, Finn received his written orders when he caught up with a Union patrol. He spotted Mosby and his men in time to warn the lieutenant in charge of the small encampment, saving them from capture.

Several days later, Finn rode into City Point and located General Grant’s headquarters at the home of Dr. Richard Eppes. He dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a private. “Where can I find General Grant’s tent.”

The private pointed. “Over there, sir, on the east lawn.”

“Much obliged.” He limped in the direction the private showed him.

Two armed guards stopped Finn from entering the general’s tent.

Finn held out a sheet of paper. “I’m Captain Harding here to see General Grant at his request.”

The guards glanced at each other and stood aside.

Finn entered the tent. Spotting the general, he waited to be noticed.

“Ah, Harding. Glad you found my new headquarters. We needed to move as things aren’t going so well.” The general gestured toward a camp chair. Have a seat.”

“Yes, sir.” Finn limped to the chair and sat.

“Still having some trouble with that leg?”

“Yes, sir. It aches sometimes but it’s not stopping the performance of my duties.

The general nodded. “I see you’ve had some success in disrupting Mosby’s operations.”

“Yes, sir. However, he’s as slippery as an eel. Mosby never meets with his men at the farm. There is a tavern where he sometimes goes, although I have yet to see him there. The barkeep lets me know when Mosby and some of his men have been there, but they seem to melt into the countryside before I can locate them.”

“Understood.” Grant sighed. “Keep doing your best; that’s all I can ask. If the situation doesn’t improve, we might have to surrender to the Confederates and that’s something I cannot stomach the thought of.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Finn stood, saluted, and left the tent, and headed back toward his temporary home at the Colton property.

***

Latimer stretched out his legs as he accepted a glass of bourbon from Jefferson Davis. “Thank you. This is just what I needed after the ride from Middleburg.”

Davis nodded. “Barnabas, I’m sure you can find any excuse for a drink—as do I.”

Both men chuckled.

Davis drained his glass and pointed to the bottle. “Care for another?”

“Perhaps later. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“As always straight to the matter.” Davis set his glass on the table. “I want to pull you away from Mosby’s Raiders. From all reports, we have the Yankees on the run. General Lee could benefit from you and your machines even more than Mosby. Your work with him produced excellent results as he’s disrupted numerous Yankee operations.”

“Yes. I liked his plan to harass the Yankees from the rear, he destroyed a fair share of supply trains. Spotting dispatch riders led to the capture of several Union officers. We certainly have tied a can to their tales.

“Exactly.” Davis nodded. “Now, I want you to provide the same support for General Lee.”

Latimer frowned. “It will likely be more difficult, but I shall do your bidding. When I supported Mosby, we were always within a day’s ride of the Oakham Farm, so the logistics would be stretched. If I can keep Amos and Lester with me, we should be able to help General Lee.”

Davis waved a hand in the air. “Of course.”

“When do you want me to join the general?”

“Finish up anything you have planned to help Mosby and then join Lee. According to his last communique, he should be at the Beasley House in Petersburg.”

Latimer nodded as he held out his glass. “I’ll have that second drink now. All this talk has made me thirsty.”

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, July 20, 2023

Randall Krzak

As predicted, it’s been another steamy week. While there were a few episodes of thunder, there wasn’t enough rain to break into the heat cycle. The upcoming week is supposed to be 87-96, with thunderstorms predicted for today and tomorrow.

Deer and wild turkeys continue to visit on a near-daily basis, along with the regular retinue of birds and squirrels. There was one wild turkey who made a couple of appearance with four young ones. Not sure what they’re called, but it was fun watching them run around.

This past week was the MLB All-Star game. Going into the break, the Detroit Tigers lost four consecutive games. I had hoped they would resume their winning ways, but they’ve lost two more since the break. Their record is now 59-40. At least they’re still in first place  in the American League’s Central Division, with a 11 game lead ahead of second place Cleveland. Today, Detroit plays the Texas Rangers. Hopefully, they can snap their losing streak and  roar back!

“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”― Louis L’Amour.  Compliments of https://www.nicolemgulotta.com/blog/25-inspirational-quotes.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on July 20th, the twenty-ninth Sunday of 2025 and the third one in July. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Imam Al-Bukhari [Muḥammad al-Bukhari], Islamic scholar and compiler of Hadith (Sahih al-Bukhari); Francesco Petrarch, Italian poet (Italia Mia); Arnaud d’Ossat, French diplomat and writer; Aleksander Fredro, Polish poet and comedy writer (Pan Jowiolski); John Sterling, Scottish writer; Augustin Daly, American playwright and theatrical manager; George Otto Trevelyan, British statesman and biographer; Erik Axel Karlfeldt, Swedish poet (Nobel Prize for Literature 1919-refused; 1931-posthumous); Otto Blumenthal, German mathematician, journal editor (Mathematische Annalen, 1906-38) and university professor; Gustave Charlier, Belgian literary historian and critic; Richard Billinger, Austrian poet and writer (From Where I Came); Maurice Gilliams, Belgian writer and poet (Maria’s Life);Dilys Powell, English film critic and travel writer (Descent from Parnassus); Molly Keane, Irish writer, and playwright; George Johnston, Australian journalist and novelist “My Brother Jack”; Hans Lodeizen [Johannes Frederik], Dutch poet (Het innerlijk behang (The Inner Wallpaper)); Thomas Berger, American novelist (Vital Parts, Little Big Man); Pavel Kohout, Czech-Austrian playwright (Poor Murderer), poet, novelist (I Am Snowing), and dissident (Charter 77); Donald Moffitt, American sci-fi author (The Jupiter Theft; The Genesis Quest); Cormac McCarthy, American Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist (The Road, All the Pretty Horses; No Country for Old Men);and Uwe Johnson, German writer (Gruppe 47).

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

I’m still busy editing chapters in the manuscript of Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion based on reader feedback. All chapters are now posted to the two online subscription sites I use. There were another five new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 264. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

After Lincoln finished his morning reading and writing in the upstairs office, Mary snuck inside and composed a letter to Jefferson Davis.

My Dear President Davis,

Your Mosby Raiders are causing quite the consternation here in Washington. I overheard Abraham talking to several congressmen about four raids in Fairfax County earlier this month. If my tallies are accurate, Mosby and his men captured almost one hundred men, killed five others, and wounded over fifteen. Furthermore, they made off with fifty-eight horses and a quantity of arms and equipment.

Abraham can’t know I’m sending this to you, but congratulations are in order for these daring raids.

Mary

***

White House of the Confederacy

Richmond, Virginia

April 24, 1863

President Davis read through the document written by the Confederate Congress and frowned. “This tax-in-kind will rile up the population. However, we need to seize food, fuel, slaves, and other commodities to support our brave soldiers. The farms won’t take kindly to donating ten percent of their corn, wheat, and sweet potatoes.” He rubbed his beard as he studied Latimer’s face. “But what are we to do?”

Latimer remained stoic. “I do not see any other choice, Jefferson. I am sure some fake agents will steal crops and use them to increase their profits.”

“You always get to the crux of the matter, Latimer.” Davis signed the order. “That’s one thing I like about you. I also want to thank you for the assistance you provided to Mosby. But, now I want you back with General Lee.”

Latimer nodded. “I will do your bidding.”

***

The Battle of Chancellorsville

May 1863

Latimer rushed to General Lee’s tent. When he was permitted to enter, he handed over several images. “General, I do not pretend to know anything about military tactics. However, my birds have captured the movements of the Union army as they prepare to cross the Rappahannock River. If what I have learned from you and the other officers is of any use, splitting your forces to counter the Yankee army might crush them.”

Lee nodded. “I concur with your assessment, Latimer. I shall give the order.”

On May 2nd, General Stonewall Jackson’s corps conducted a flanking march that routed the Union forces.

Later that day, one of his aides called Latimer into the tent. “Can you get a message to General Lee? Stonewall’s been injured by his own men during nighttime firing. I am fearful for his life.”

“Of course. I shall see the general presently.”

Five days later, General Lee’s forces were successful in driving General Hooker’s Union army away from Richmond. Three days later, Lee was summoned to Jackson’s tent. When he entered, he observed what he assumed was the pending death of his friend.

General Stonewall Jackson died of pneumonia on May 10th. His last words were, “Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.”

***

Greenwich, Virginia

May 29, 1863

Mosby’s Raiders continued to harass Union forces, but without Latimer by his side, losses began to mount. Mosby led forty of his men to derail a supply train. A fierce battle ensued, forcing him to retreat. He lost six men killed, twenty wounded, and ten captured.

Twelve days later, Mosby and one hundred of his men crossed the Potomac River at Seneca, Maryland. He had more success here and routed a company of the Sixth Michigan Cavalry and burned their camp.

***

After Lincoln had left the upstairs office to meet with several members of Congress in the Oval Office in early June 1863, Mary raced inside. She found maps and notes for an upcoming fortification by Union soldiers which could lead to a major defeat for the Confederacy. Glancing around to ensure she was alone, Mary quickly jotted down pieces of information and crafted a letter.

My Dear President Davis,

This will likely to be my final letter for the foreseeable future as I feel Abraham is getting suspicious about my questions and interest in the war. However, I stumbled across information I feel is too important to you not to risk my life.

It is my fervent belief that General Hooker is planning to attack Richmond. Among Abraham’s papers was a reference to a place in Pennsylvania—Gettysburg. Is there some way for our brave Confederate troops to launch an attack on this location and lead the Yankees away?

I pray for your continued success.

Mary

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, July 13, 2025

Randall Krzak

It’s been another steamy week. While there were a few episodes of thunder, there wasn’t enough rain to break into the heat cycle. The upcoming week is supposed to be 88-94, which thunderstorms predicted on four days.

Deer and wild turkeys continue to visit, along with the regular retinue of birds and squirrels. Yesterday, there was a young buck staring at the house and in the background we could seen a fawn hiding with the other does.

Over the past week, the Detroit Tigers played six games, winning three and losing three. Their record now stands at 59-37, and they’re still in first place in the American League’s Central Division, with a 11.5 game lead ahead of second place Minnesota. Today, Detroit plays their final game before the All-Star break. After a well-deserved rest, I hope they roar back!

“There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you.” ―Beatrix Potter. Compliments of https://www.nicolemgulotta.com/blog/25-inspirational-quotes.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on July 13th, the twenty-eighth Sunday of 2025 and the second one in July. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Wilhelm Heinrich Wackenroder, German writer (Fantasies about Art); John Clare, English poet (Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery); Gustav Freytag, German writer and playwright (Debit and Credit); Isaak Babel, Russian writer, playwright and journalist (Red Calvary); Kenneth Clark, English art historian (Civilisation); Charles Scribner IV, American literary publisher; David Storey, British novelist and playwright (This Sporting Life); Peter Gzowski ‘Mr Canada’, Canadian broadcaster, writer and reporter; Wole Soynka, Nigerian playwright and poet (Road, Kongi’s Harvest-Nobel 1986); ean-Pierre Plooij, Dutch writer and playwright (Duvelsmoer verhalen; Patience; Bird House); Cameron Crowe, American journalist (Rolling Stone), film director (Almost Famous; Jerry Maguire), and screenwriter (Fast Times at Ridgemont High); and Ian Hislop, British writer, satirist and editor of Private Eye.

Any names familiar to you? There were two for me this week: John Clare and Charles Scribner IV.  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

This week, I continued editing chapters in the manuscript of Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion based on reader feedback. All chapters are now posted to the two online subscription sites I use. There were another eight new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 259. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

Latimer, Lester, and Amos entered the grounds of Oakham Farm near Middleburg, Virigina. Lester and Amos each drove a team of horses pulling supply wagons while Latimer rode with Lester.

An armed guard near the gate raised a hand. “What can I do you for?”

“We are here on behalf of President Davis.” Latimer studied the guard’s face. “Colonel Mosby is expecting us.”

“Any who are you?” The guard chewed on his tobacco and spat.

“My name is Latimer.” He gestured to Lester and Amos. “The brave Confederate boys are my aides.”

“Why didn’t you say so? The colonel is likely in the parlor in the main farmhouse.”

“Thank you.” Latimer motioned Lester forward.

Amos followed.

At the farmhouse, Lester and Amos stopped near the steps leading to the porch.

“Wait here.” Latimer climbed down, dashed up the steps, and knocked on the door.

Moments later, the door swung inward.

Another armed guard stood at the entrance. “Are you “Latimer?”

“Yes.” Latimer gestured toward the wagons. “My aides are waiting for me.”

“The colonel is waiting for you in the parlor. Second door on the right. Just go right in.”

Latimer nodded and headed where he was directed.

Tall, with a trimmed beard and wavy black hair, Mosby noticed Latimer and waved him forward. “Welcome, Latimer. The president and General Lee have told me wonderful stories about your machines. Will they really help the South win the war?”

“You will still require intelligence from your spy network, but, yes, I will be able to tell you what the Yankees are doing.”

Mosby approached Latimer and clasped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to Mosby’s Raiders.” He chuckled. “We are formally called Rangers, but I prefer the term raiders cuz that is what we do.” He led Latimer to a sofa and gestured for him to sit.

Latimer did as instructed, leaning forward after sinking in the soft cushions.

“We have a raid planned near Chantilly in a few days. One of our sources in Washington informed us about Union-mounted pickets from the 18th Pennsylvania Cavalry in the area. If we are lucky, we will chase them away while grabbing their horses and weapons.”

Latimer nodded. “I can launch one of my birds and check on the pickets.”

“Excellent.” Mosby grinned. “No need for a demonstration now. Just do your work when the time comes.”

“You must realize I cannot provide details as the fighting unfolds. Once I recover one of my birds, I must develop the film and print the images before I can share them with you.”

Mosby pursed his lips. “How long do you reckon that will take?”

“Not long—perhaps two hours.”

Mosby sighed. “Okay, if that is what it takes, I will welcome your information, and we will respond accordingly.”

Two days later, Latimer developed the film from one of his birds.

Mosby studied the images as he stroked his pointed beard. “I reckon at least nine Yankees are milling about.” He turned to one of his aides. “Deploy the men.”

After a brief encounter, Mosby’s Raiders captured nine Yankees and made off with their horses and weapons before fading back into the woods.

The following day, Latimer reported a large force of Yankee cavalrymen were approaching Middleburg. “Appears to be around two hundred men.”

“We will stay out of the town until they leave. Once they depart, we will attach from the rear.”

After a brief clash, Mosby and seven of his men left the area. Both sides had captured three of their opponents.

***

President Davis grinned as he read the telegram handed to him by Confederate Secretary of State Judah Benjamin.

Dear President Davis,

I am pleased to notify you and Secretary of State Benjamin about our resounding success on January 31st in scattering the Union fleet off Charleston. The CSS Chicora and CSS Palmetto State slipped out of the harbor and attacked the Union blockade. While inflicting severe damage to some Union ships and minor damage to others, both of our ships returned to the harbor unscathed.

The Charleston ‘iron-clad’ fleet is a force to be reckoned with. 

General P.G.T. Beauregard

Davis stood and paced his office before returning to his desk, facing Benjamin who sat across from him. “This is the naval victory we needed. I shall announce to foreign powers, especially England and France, that the Confederate Navy stopped the Union blockade of Charleston. Perhaps this will convince them to support us in our time of need as we require their assistance with equipment and supplies. I hope England and France will not use Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation against us.”

Benjamin nodded. “I shall do my utmost to gain their official recognition. I do not believe any other countries will help us unless they agree first.”

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, June 22, 2025

Randall Krzak

Happy Belated Summer Solstice and Happy Summer! Friday was the longest day and shortest night in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s also the first official day of summer.

The past week has seen temperature continue to rise into the low nineties with high humidity. There has been a few thunderstorms and showers, sometimes both. Unfortunately, the rain doesn’t seem to temper the humidity. The next week is supposed to see ever hotter temperatures, approaching 100 degrees. Starting today and for at leas the next eight days, it’ll feel like it’s 101-106. Yikes!

The Detroit Tigers had a mixed week, with only two wins and four  losses, bringing their record to 48-30. Fortunately, the other teams in the American League Central Division didn’t fare much better, so Detroit still has an eight game lead over second place Cleveland. Fingers crossed that the Tigers can roar back this coming week!

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” – Robert Frost. Compliments of https://getfreewrite.com/blogs/writing-success/55-motivational-writing-quotes.

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on June 22nd, the twenty-fifth Sunday of 2025 and the fourth one in June. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Jacques Delille, French poet and translator (The Gardens’: A Poem); Henry Rider Haggard, British author (King Solomon’s Mines, She, Dawn); Frank Damrosch, German-American author and music teacher (founded NY Musical Institute of Musical Art, later Julliard); Franz de Backer, Belgian writer (White Enemy; Ruben’s Daughter); Erich Maria Remarque, German novelist (All Quiet on the Western Front); Willem Jacobus du Plooy Erlank (Eitemal), South African poet and professor in Afrikaans and Dutch literature at the University of Stellenbosch; Anne Morrow Lindbergh, American author and aviator (Gift from the Sea); Lilo Hardel, German writer; Cicely Saunders, English nurse, physician and writer who founded the first modern hospice; Abbas Kiarostami, Iranian author and director (Under the Olive Trees, Close Up, Taste of Cherry); Octavia E. Butler, American sci-fi author (Hugo, Wild Seed); Danny Baker, English writer and radio DJ; and Dan Brown, American author of thriller fiction (The Da Vinci Code).

Any names familiar to you? There were two for me this week: Erich Maria Remarque and Dan Brown. 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

This week, I’ve been busy editing chapters in the manuscript of Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion based on reader feedback. All chapters are now posted to the two online subscription sites I use. There were eight new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 246. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

Mary Todd Lincoln, a native of Kentucky, clutched the newspaper in her hand. She reread the article before tossing the paper in the fire, turning to one of her closest friends, black seamstress Elizabeth Keckley. “I cannot believe the audacity of that newspaper. Imagine saying my stepbrother died at the hands of my husband’s mercenaries. Instead, they paint me as a vulgar person trying to mimic European fashions. Little do they know my heart still belongs to the South.”

“Which stepbrother were they referring to, Mary?”

“Samuel. He joined the Confederate Army when the war began and served in the 24th Louisiana Infantry.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “He was killed in action at the Battle of Shiloh.”

Elizabeth stepped forward and took Mary’s hands. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

A look of steely determination crossed her face. “I must do what I can to help the South, even if it means going behind Abraham’s back.”

“What will you do?”

Mary shook her head. “I do not know—yet. I will never betray my husband or the Union. But there must be something I can do for the brave Confederate soldiers. Perhaps ‘Wild Rose’ may have an answer.”

“But, Mary, isn’t Rose Greenhow still in the Old Capitol Prison?”

May nodded. “Yes, she is. However, Abraham let it slip one evening that Rose will be exchanged for several Union prisoners of war. I believe her network is still operational, so there might be someone who can help us.”

“I think I know just the person.” Elizabeth smiled.

“Who?”

“Me.”

“What are you saying, Elizabeth?”

“Mary, I carry messages for you to President Davis, if that is your wish.”

“I-I must think about this. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

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

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Randall’s Ramblings, June 15, 2025

Randall Krzak

Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers. Did you know there are several countries where father’s Day is celebrated on the third Sunday of June.  In addition to the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, India, and Mexico celebrate today. The use of the third Sunday in June was inspired by a woman named Sonora Smart Dodd in 1910, who wanted to honour her father, a single parent who raised six children. She believed that just like Mother’s Day, fathers too deserved recognition. June was chosen because it was the birth month of Sonora’s father. compliments of https://www.fluorescentstudios.in/blogs/fluorescent-stories. I hope all fathers have an enjoyable day!

The past week has seen temperature in the upper eighties with high humidity. There has been thunderstorms and showers almost every day or evening; sometimes both. Unfortunately, the rain doesn’t seem to temper the humidity. Another thunderstorm is predicted for this afternoon. 

The Detroit Tigers continue their winning ways, with four wins and two loses this week, bringing their record to 46-26. As a result, they are now nine games ahead of second-place Minnesota in the American League’s Central Division. Keep going, Tigers!

“Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don’t try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It’s the one and only thing you have to offer.” – Barbara Kingsolver. Compliments of https://getfreewrite.com/blogs/writing-success/55-motivational-writing-quotes

So who was born on this date in history? Let’s find out who in the writing world was born on June 15th, the twenty-fourth Sunday of 2025 and the third one in June. (Compliments of https://www.onthisday.com/birthdays/).

Hiob Ludolf, German orientalist (Historia Aethiopica, Grammatica Aethiopica); François-Xavier Garneau, French Canadian notary, poet, and historian (Histoire du Canada / History of Canada; Konstantin Balmont, Russian writer; Ramon Lopez Velarde, Mexican poet (La Sangre Devota); Wilbert Awdry, British Anglican cleric and children’s writer (Thomas the Tank Engine); Cees Bantzinger, Dutch cartoonist and illustrator; Hilda Terry [Theresa Hilda D’Alessio], American cartoonist (Teena) and first female member of the National Cartoonists Society; Saul Steinberg, Romanian-American cartoonist and illustrator (The New Yorker); Marshall Field IV, American newspaper publisher (owned Chicago Daily News); Amy Clampitt, American poet (The Kingfisher); Erland Josephson, Swedish actor, dramatist and author (The Sacrifice, Utflykt); aime Sabines, Mexican poet (Tarumba, Maltiempes); Ray Coleman, British author (biographies of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Eric Clapton, Brian Epstein, and Phil Collins), and music journalist (Melody Maker); Brian Jacques, British author; Xaviera Hollander [de DeVries], Dutch call girl, brothel keeper, and author (The Happy Hooker); Robert Keppel, American detective and author (Signature Killers); and Adam Rapp, American playwright and author (Red Light Winter).

Any names familiar to you? There was one for me this week: Wilbert Awdry. 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

This week, I’ve continued editing chapters in the manuscript of Harding’s Challenge: The Great Rebellion based on reader feedback. All chapters are now posted to the two online subscription sites I use. There were eighteen new chapter reviews this week, bringing the total to 238. As always, plenty of feedback to improve the story.

Here’s another snippet:

President Lincoln stared at the man seated in front of his desk. “I issued a war order in January authorizing the Army of the Potomac to launch a unified attack against the Confederacy under your command. Why have you not done this?”

General George McClellan cleared his throat. “I—I, Mister President, may I remind you that at the time, I recommended a two-month postponement before I attacked Richmond.”

“You overstep yourself, sir. Of course, I remember. However, the two months have passed, and I’m unaware of any movement toward the Confederate capital.” Lincoln stood and gazed through the curtains outside. “I’m disappointed that the insurgent leader still roams as a free man.”

Lincoln sighed as he returned to his desk, picked up a letter, and handed it to General McClellan. “Sir, you try my patience. Do as I order in that letter, or you shall be replaced forthwith.”

“Yes, Mister President.” McClellan jumped to his feet and saluted. “By your leave, sir.” He dashed from the room.

***

Latimer stood on the banks of Newport News, Virginia. He glanced at the crowd of Confederate supporters assembled to witness the first naval engagement between ironclad ships and shook his head. They’re liable to be victims if the ships miss each other and the rounds fly through the air.

He launched one of his birds and directed it toward a scuttled Union frigate, the U.S.S. Merrimac, now rechristened as the C.S.S. Virginia.

The battle ensued between a new Union ironclad ship, the U.S.S. Monitor, and the Virginia. Smoke filled the air, blocking sight of the two ships.

Latimer’s bird circled the Monitor, taking photos of the revolving turret housing two eleven-inch Dahlgren guns. These blasted away at the Virginia, firing its three nine-inch Dahlgren bow guns.

Later, when Latimer retrieved his bird and developed the film, he found neither ship had caused much damage to the other. After hours of shelling, both ships retreated, with the Monitor heading to the Union-held Fort Monroe while the Virginia steamed toward her home port at the Gosport Naval Yard in Portsmouth.

Although Latimer’s bird did record hits on the Monitor’s armored pilothouse, it was still battle-worthy. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” He continued to study the image of the Virginia and found it had suffered some damage with a number of loosened armor plates and a riddled smokestack, which reduced her speed but she was still ready for a fight.

Stepping to the tent flap, Latimer opened it. “Lester, come here.”

Lester stepped inside the tent. He lost the lower part of his left arm in the First Battle of Bull Run to a Yankee cannonball. Still short of his eighteenth birthday, assisting Latimer was his way of remaining in the fight against the Yankees. “Yes, suh?”

“Please begin loading the wagon. As soon as my new images are dry, I want to head to Richmond and give them to President Davis.”

“Yes, suh. Right away.”

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