Bill W

The Reporter – by Bill W Copyright 2026 by billwstories 1. The Proposal~~~~~ I’d made an appointment with the Managing Editor of the Baltimore Sun and was ushered into her office at the appointed time. “How can I help you, Mr. Thissen?” “I have a request. I was hired to work here after graduating with a degree from the University of Maryland’s Philip Merrill College of Journalism. While there, I also worked on deep-dive projects through the Howard Center for Invest

Levi Thissen is currently an entry-level reporter for the Baltimore Sun, but he went to college with the goal of becoming an investigative reporter. He decides his best chance of doing that is to make a pitch to the Managing Editor of the Sun. She accepts his proposal and assigns him to solve a 47-year-old murder mystery of a gay college student from a local campus, and he accepts the challenge. This is either going to work out in his favor, or he'll be permanently labeled as someone only fit to write for the National Enquirer.

Autumn plays a powerful role in storytelling because it naturally embodies transition, duality, and emotional depth. Key Themes of Autumn in Storytelling: Transition and Change: Autumn marks the bridge between the vibrant expansion of summer and the quiet dormancy of winter. It is ideal for characters crossing from one state of life, age, or world into another (such as coming-of-age journeys or shifting kingdoms in fantasy). Abundance and Harvest: Historically and practically, autumn is the time of the harvest—gathering what was sown earlier in the year. In narratives, this mirrors characters reaping the consequences of their past choices, talents, or hard work. Maturity and Aging: If spring represents childhood and summer represents youth, autumn symbolizes adulthood, wisdom, and maturity. It captures a character looking back with reflection rather than forward with blind impulse. Beauty and Impermanence: The glowing colors of changing leaves combine the visual splendor of peak vitality with the quiet acceptance of decay and letting go. Writers use this to evoke nostalgia, grief, or romantic melancholy. Atmosphere and Mood: Crisp air, mist, early twilight, and cozy indoor rituals naturally heighten tension, mystery, or comforting intimacy, making autumn a staple for folklore, Gothic tales, cozy mysteries, and atmospheric fiction (such as Over the Garden Wall).

Autumnal comes from the Latin adjective autumnālis, meaning "of or belonging to auntumn", which is derived from the Latin noun autumnus (autumn). The base word came into Middle English as autumpne via Old French (autompne / automne) in the late 14th century. The exact origin of the Latin autumnus is uncertain. Linguists trace it as a loanword likely of Etruscan origin rather than a native Indo-European root. Some traditional Roman etymologies linked it to augere ("to increase" or a rich season), though modern philologists view that as folk etymology. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the adjective "autumnal" was first used in English during the Middle English period (1150-1500), with the earliest recorded evidence appearing around 1440 in Palladius’ De Re Rustica. The evolution of the meaning of autumnal is as follows: 1570s: Used to mean "maturing in autumn", 1630s: Used to mean "belonging to autumn", and 1650s: Adopted in the figurative sense of "past the prime".

In storytelling, a sidle—meaning to walk or move sideways in a cautious, furtive, or indirect manner—serves as a powerful tool for characterization, pacing, and subtext. Instead of moving directly from point A to point B, a character who "sidles" alters the emotional landscape of a scene. Here is why sidling is important in storytelling: Characterization and Subtext: Reveals hidden motives: Characters who sidle are rarely upfront. The physical act of moving sideways signals to the reader that the character is acting coy, deceptive, or deeply cautious. Shows vulnerability or fear: A character might sidle along a wall to avoid being seen or to protect their back, instantly conveying a sense of danger or insecurity without a single word of dialogue. Establishes status and power dynamics: Entering a room head-on shows dominance and confidence. Sidling into a room shows submission, calculation, or a desire to blend into the background. Pacing and Atmosphere: Creates tension: Slowing down a character's physical approach stretches the timeline of a scene. It forces the audience to wait, building anticipation for the eventual interaction. Enhances atmospheric descriptions: Sidling fits perfectly within genres like noir, thriller, or horror, where shadows, narrow hallways, and secrecy dominate the environment. Narrative Structure (Metaphorical Sidling): Approaching themes indirectly: Great stories often "sidle up" to their main themes or emotional cores. Rather than hitting a heavy topic over the head, a writer might approach it from an angle, letting the truth dawn on the reader gradually. Plot misdirection: Writers can sidle into a plot point or a twist by dropping subtle clues from the side, distracting the reader with the main action before revealing the true focus.

The word sidle originated in the late 17th century (around the 1690s) as a back-formation fro the obsolete adverb sideling (dating back to the early 14th century). Speakers reinterpreted sideling (meaning "in a sidelong direction" or "obliquely") as if it were a present participle ending in -ing (like sidling), which led to the creation of the base verb sidle. Old English also featured related terms like sidlingweg, meaning an oblique or sideways road. Early written records of the verb appear around the late 1690s, including in the works of playwright John Vanbrugh. + According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the earliest known use of sidle depends on the grammatical form: As a noun: The earliest evidence is from around 1805 in Oliver's Comic Songs. As a verb: The earliest evidence is from 1697 in the writings of playwright and architect John Vanbrugh.

A charming mythological story that inculcates strong feelings, misinterpreted conclusions, and some delightful pranks and good-natued ribbing. Do yourself a favor and read this skillfully written chapter.

What exactly happened between Birke and Matsu that Celer saw? It puzzles me. Other than that, I found this to be a delightful and very entertaining story with mythological characters. Everything was very well described and easy to visualize, and I found the various relationship to be authentic and honest, although sometimes misinterpreted by the other characters. Kudos!

A charming, believable, and often humorous story about two men who come from different parts of town, as well a different segments of society, yet bond over simple kindness and an attempt of one man to help the other do something special for his daughter's birthday. Even though this is a slightly longer short story, it shouldn't deter you from reading it, because you'll be doing yourself a disservice by passing it by. Read and enjoy this wonderful tale, much the same way that I did. It's a marvelous story.

A revenant—derived from the French revenir ("to return")—is a figure who comes back from the dead or from the brink of death. In storytelling, the revenant serves a unique and powerful narrative function across folklore, literature, and cinema. Core Narrative Functions of a Revenant: Embodied Memory and Unresolved Trauma: Revenants act as physical manifestations of the past. In both Old Norse literature and modern fiction, they force the living (or the protagonist) to confront historical guilt, individual trauma, or cultural sins that were never properly buried. The Cycle of Vengeance: Traditionally, a revenant returns with a singular, consuming purpose: retribution. Stories use them to test the moral cost of revenge, showing how the obsession with an "eye for an eye" turns the living into the dead long before their hearts stop. Metaphorical Resurrection and Transformation: Not all revenants are literal undead monsters; many (like Hugh Glass in The Revenant) suffer a near-fatal destruction of their old self. Their "return" symbolizes rebirth, endurance, and the primal will to survive against impossible odds. Moral and Spiritual Reckoning: Because they straddle the boundary between the living world and the afterlife, revenants act as mirrors. They challenge the living to choose between grace, forgiveness, or an endless loop of violence.

The word revenant comes from the French present participle of revenir, meaning "to return" or "to come back". It traces back to the Latin word revenire, which combines re- ("back" or "again") and venire ("to come"). It's literal meaning is a person or entity that returns after a long absence. It has a supernatural meaning of a corpse, ghost, or undead being that rises and returns from the grave (often driven by a specific purpose like vengeance or unfinished business). According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the noun and adjective revenant first entered the English language in the 1820s, with the earliest recorded evidence dating from 1823 in the Quarterly Review. The distinct Middle English adjective sense appears briefly in the 15th century before falling out of use, while the modern noun/adjective form was re-borrowed directly from French in the 19th century.)

Charming, believable, realistic, and often humorous. It also introduced us to the bitch that was probably responsible for him ending up in prison in the first place - to just get some time away from her. It's a miracle that Lizzie grew up to be a well-adjusted person with a mother like she had, but it's good to know that she's living with her dad now and gthe help, encouragement, and support he's needed all along. Fantastic story, @Robert Hugill!

The rules I learned growing up in the northeast about winter driving: 1. reduce speed on snowy and icy roads, and if you have to use brakes, pump them, don't slam on them. 2. increase the distance between you and the vehicle in front of you. 3: don't use cruise control, 4. clear all now and ice off vehicle before you start driving, 5 keep gas tank at least half-full, 6 when you're in a skid, don't slam on brakes and turn into the skid. I hope that helps for someone new to wintery driving.

SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) principles are crucial in storytelling because they provide a realistic, psychological blueprint for characters facing extreme adversity. Rooted in military training, SERE outlines how humans endure captivity, isolation, and pursuit, making it an invaluable tool for writers to build authentic tension and profound character arcs. Here is how SERE principles elevate narrative fiction: Survival: The Stakes of the Environment: Survival focuses on the physical and psychological toll of a hostile environment. Prioritizing immediate needs: Characters must secure water, shelter, and medical aid, forcing them to make hard choices under pressure. Psychological endurance: True survival stories emphasize the "will to live," showing how hope or sheer stubbornness keeps a character moving when their body gives out. Evasion: The Ultimate Tension Builder: Evasion is the art of staying free while being actively hunted. The cat-and-mouse dynamic: It shifts the story's pace into high gear, creating constant paranoia where any mistake—a broken twig, a left-behind item—could mean capture. Resourcefulness: Characters must blend into their surroundings, use camouflage, and outsmart an adversary who likely has superior numbers or technology. Resistance: The Battle of Wills: Resistance occurs after capture, moving the conflict from physical action to a psychological chess match. Maintaining identity: Captivity stories use resistance to show a character protecting information, their dignity, or their core beliefs against interrogation and torture. | Subtle rebellion: Resistance doesn't have to be loud; it can be silent non-cooperation, mental math to keep the mind sharp, or secretly communication with other prisoners. Escape: The Narrative Climax: Escape is the breaking point where a character transitions from passive endurance to active agency. Calculated risk: A compelling escape requires planning, timing, and exploiting the enemy's complacency. The cost of freedom: Escaping often forces characters to leave others behind or sacrifice something valuable, leaving deep emotional scars even after they find safety.

That's the military acronym initialism that is a 20th-century development first established during World War II by the British military.