In Support of Jackie Barbosa

If you're looking for some good books to buy this week, I ask you to consider the books of my colleague Jackie Barbosa. Jackie writes in various different genres, so there's a little something for almost everybody, especially if you like your stories a bit spicier. I've just bought the contemporary According to Luke myself because the excerpt sounded so very delicious. Check it out here.

And here's the blurb:

Luke Finley, the eldest of four brothers, is a committed serial monogamist. He’s all for one woman at a time, but not one woman forever. He knows a lifetime of fidelity just isn’t in his genes.

But when his latest girlfriend kicks him out–of his condo–the woman he’s always thought of as “one of the guys” turns out to be the one woman who can rock his world and make him believe in forever.

A friends-to-lovers story! Love those!

Or perhaps you'd like to have a look at her two free historical shorts, The Reiver and Nine Ladies Dancing.

The reason I'm asking you to support Jackie is a sad one: You might have already heard that earlier this month Jackie lost her 17-year-old son Julian in a car accident. Most of us will never be able to fully understand what Jackie and her family are going through right now, the terrible pain they must be feeling.

There is nothing we can do to ease this pain, but we as her colleagues wanted to show her our support, and so Beverly Kendall and Courtney Milan came up with the idea of authors highlighting Jackie’s books on their blogs or FB pages.

There is also a memorial fund set up in Julian's name. Details to donate can be found here. Any and all donation amounts are greatly appreciated.

Doggie-walking Duties & a Tournament

Today, I was once again on doggie-walking duty. :-)

I'm also still hard at work at the revisions for THE BRIDE PRIZE. At the moment my characters are at a tournament (which is not exactly surprising, given that half of the novella takes place during the aforementioned tournament). As per my editor's suggestions, I'm working on increasing the conflict between hero and heroine. In this particular scene it needs to be clearer that he regards the whole tournament thing as a rather silly affair. Sooo..... (insertions in red)

Around them the crowd fell silent as the knights retired to their tents in order to don their helmets and await the formal challenge to combat. Yes, very much in the manner of Ivanhoe (though minus the nasty Prince John and the general bloodlust of the audience) and as good a show as anything you might see on a London stage.
Here and there a few laughs could be heard as the jester rode across the field, swinging his bells in a somewhat dampened tingle over his head.

And then, finally, a blast of trumpets sounded, and the first challenge of the day was issued: the Knight of the Swan sent his defiance to the Knight of the Golden Lion. Having donned their helmets, both knights rode forth, plumes fluttering in the wind.

Everyone around the lists seemed to hold their breath. This was it! This was why they had come here from all corners of the kingdom; indeed, even from all corners of the world!

Breathless excitement gripped the stands & slopes, Robbie scribbled into his sketchbook right next to a very hasty drawing of a round gentleman staring in open-mouthed wonder at the silly spectacle unfolding in front of his eyes.

We do so need somebody for satirical illustrations, Robbie thought ruefully.

The knights took their positions on opposite sides of the barrier that had been set up for the tilting.

Miss Florence sighed happily. "Isn't it wonderful? It's so --"

Another blast of trumpets, and the knights rode furiously -- or at least as furiously as was possible in the rain, which was not very furious at all -- towards each other... further and further... and past each other, without so much as scratching their shields, let alone splintering anybody's lances.

Out and about with the Doggie Sister

I've taken over doggie-walking duties for a few days, and today was just perfect for going down to the river.

On the way back, we passed the car park where my Mum usually parks her car when she takes Tinka down to the river. Tinka was utterly flummoxed that today THERE WAS NO CAR TO TAKE HER HOME! Wait, wait, what? I actually have to walk home???? She just couldn't believe it. *g* 

My New Editorial Assistant

 For tackling Chapter 3, I had a very special editorial assistant today:

"Edi-what???"

Editorial assistant. Which means you're helping me to improve my book.

"Does that mean I'll get a treat?"

Uhm...

"Well, then..."

"No treat, no assistance!"

The Cutting Continues

I did indeed manage to condense Chapters 1 and 2 into one single chapter (YAY!); and now I'm cutting away at Chapter 3.

Btw, did you know that there were horse-drawn railways? Neither did I until I researched this scene. :-)

Add a bit of pink...

... in order to increase the general confusion. This is the page from the second pic in my last post. Cut even more stuff. Snip-snap.

My Editor Made Me Do It!

I call this "My Editor Made Me Do It": it's Chapter 1 in all its red glory. Quite a frightful sight, isn't it?

And the next pic shows the beginning of Chapter 2, which isn't much better. But at least the cutting has become easier. Yay! However, I need to cut a lot more text if I want to merge those two chapters into one. *sigh*

(I'd also like to know why the heck my pictures come out so very dark when I upload them here. Until two or three days ago, I've never had this problem before. Grrr....)

Cutting, cutting, cutting, and adding conflict

The aim for Chapter 1: cutting and adding conflict.

Cutting!!!

More cutting!!!! And setting up some of the conflict.

But actually...

We could cut even MORE...

Cutting in Progress

See? Totally killing my darlings. Even such nice paragraphs as:

By the same token, Mr. Marsh considered modern forms of book publication a real horror. He did not buy serial installments, and he held Mr. Dickens responsible for having dragged that beautiful institution of English literature down into the muddy waters of serialisation.

(For THE BRIDE PRIZE I might have to put a section with deleted scenes into the enhanced edition....)

Moreover, if the reader wonders why the heck the heroine's aunt is so excited about a tournament, perhaps the heroine, too, should wonder why her aunt is so excited about a tournament.

Battle-Plan Progress

I have to admit that I dreaded grappling with the revisions of this story. Normally, when I do revisions, I go through a manuscript page by page and insert stuff as I go along. I tried this with THE BRIDE PRIZE this morning, then gave up and did some other work because it was all so very depressing.

By early afternoon, I knew I had to do a mind map in order to get a grip of the story, but abandoned that shortly after posting the entry before this one (because it was all so very depressing *sob*).

About an hour ago, I finally put on my big-girl-pants and sat down and just did it: mind-mapping the story as it is. Afterwards, I put off the inevitable (i.e., reading my editor's suggestions very, very carefully) (this bit is always such a torment - at least for me - because you have to face up to the fact that parts of your story are less than splendid and you have to be brutally honest to yourself in order to get rid of these parts) and added the first layer of colour: some blue and red bubbles to indicate hero/heroine's POV. And finally, I tackled the problem areas (I used a pretty purple pen* to make this bit slightly less painful) (* a promo pen from Valerie Bowman): I worked with my editor's suggestions and noted down on the mind map where improvements are needed. Luckily, Bev gave me some really brilliant suggestions, so it really wasn't as painful as I had feared.

One of the main problems with this story is that it lacks conflict. I knew that while I was still writing it and I worried that it bit be just a bit bland because the romance runs so very smoothly, but I just couldn't figure out a way out to change that. This is one of the reasons why it is so important to have a content editor whom you trust and who understands your stories: you need that second pair of eyes. You need somebody whom you trust to be honest about the strength and weaknesses of your story; somebody who understands your way of telling a story enough to make suggestions that will really improve your story, while still being true to yourself and your storytelling.

In this respect, I have been very, very lucky indeed: I had this with Chris Keeslar, my editor at Dorchester, and I have it now with Bev Katz Rosenbaum, my editor of my indie books. She was actually the first content editor I picked, and I feel so very blessed to have found her!

Planning the Attack

What do you do when you're stuck? You make a plan - or, in my case, a mind map in order to figure out what is supposed to go where and how to heighten the conflict in this story. I love mind maps because they enable you to see the whole story on one page, which makes it easier to spot common themes and motifs (or to strengthen those).

I used a mind map to plot DEVIL'S RETURN, and I only needed to make some minimal changes to the story. I didn't use a mind map to plot THE BRIDE PRIZE, and look where it has got me! When will I ever learn? *sigh*

Second Round of Revisions: Kill your Darlings

This is THE BRIDE PRIZE, the first novella in the series and the next ms that's up for revisions. In contrast to DEVIL'S RETURN, this one will require some serious work because hero and heroine meet way too late in the story. In addition, there's also too much background info. *sigh*

To be fair, I knew that even before I sent the novellas to my editor, but, you know, I'd hoped it wouldn't be too bad.... But as far as the excess of background info is concerned, it's exactly as bad as I had feared.

So this weekend, it's "Kill your darlings" time!  

Today I give you....

... some cover-love. I hope you like it! :-)

First Set of Revisions DONE!!!!!

I'm so thrilled to announced that I've just finished revising the first of the three novellas. Yay!!!

Ornamental Edits

Layering red on the page can render some rather pretty results. :-)

Nearly reaching the end of DEVIL'S RETURN. But first - some male bonding.

Unperturbed, Beaton continued, "I say, Crenshaw, that's all very romantic."

"Yes, in the way of Romeo and Juliet," Mac cut in, his voice a bored drawl. "He will want to slash his wrists next."

As Robbie Beaton says at the beginning of this novella, "No. Cupid, our Mac is not." ;-)

Combative Revisions

I might have to start using two different colours for revivions in order to help me to keep the different edits apart later on when I'm going to work them into the MS Word document....

This, btw, is my attempt at the following suggestion from my editor: "P. 237. The bear scene needs a stronger ending." :-)

A Risky Business: Driving around Nineteenth-Century London

Today I'm once again guest-posting on Risky Regencies, and I've picked a really, really, REALLY risky topic: traffic woes in nineteenth-century London! :-) For this I dug out some of the research I've done for my three novellas (the smiley paper-clips might be familiar to some of you by now) and for past conference papers (have I already mentioned how much I love it that I can use my academic research for my creative projects???), for example all the newspaper snippets on the dangers of wooden pavement.

You can read the whole post here: Traffic Woes in Nineteenth-century London

The Plot Thickens & a Bear

... or at least the layers of red on the page do. This has turned out to be a bit of a tricky scene. As my editor has pointed out, my heroine doesn't say anything - or hardly anything - in two consecutive scenes, which is not so good. On the other hand, I want my heroine to be somewhat diffident in these scenes, soooo......

I've settled on letting her exclaim "A bear?" at one point.

And now, as my editor tells me, I need to find a stronger ending for the bear scene.

Hm.

*scratching my head*

Revisions!!!

After finishing all the grading yesterday evening, I'm finally free to start with the revisions of my three novellas (as you can see, I'm using the same dark red pen for both grading and revisions *g*). Woohooo!!!! Since I received my editor's revision letter, I've been looking forward to this SO much. I love this step in the publication process: giving the contents of my stories one last polish and seeing how it all tightens up. (Besides, at this point I've usually come to the conclusion that my latest literary outpourings are not lethal after all, which is always such a big relief! *ggg*)

With this new series, I also need to check the continuity, for in the earlier stories there are quite a few smaller incidents that will become relevant in later stories. And then, of course, we have all those recurring characters as well as a number of recurring jokes -- like Matthew Clark's whoopee cushion that makes a sound like a dying goat when you sit down on it. ;-)

Heard from My Editor Today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm hardly able to focus on the grading today -- and I blame it all on my lovely editor! When I switched on my computer this morning, I found her critique of my three novellas in my mailbox. It took me a good 30 minutes to open her mail. What if she didn't like those stories? What if she was going to tell me they were really, really, really bad and how did I even dare to send her such crap? (By now you should know how my mind works, so this mini meltdown will hardly come as a surprise to you. *g*)

Anyways, I finally DID open her e-mail, and -- oh my gosh!!! -- Bev really, really, REALLY liked the three stories. "Did I ever love working on these novellas, Sandra!" her e-mail starts. "Please forgive me for not listing everything I love about them in my critique--it would have been a hundred pages!"

*melts into a happy puddle*

So I've been singing and humming and grinning stupidly and dancing around my flat for most of the day. :-)

Throwback Thursday

Not a lot going on at the moment besides grading papers. So I thought I'll give you a picture for #ThrowbackThursday: this was taken when my family lived in the Black Forest - I must have been five or six years old. Beside me you can see a mechanical organ. In the nineteenth century Waldkirch, the town where we lived, became famous for the production of mechanical music instruments, especially huge fairground organs.

Murder, Mayhem, & Earl Grey

Today I've been hunting down murderers (in between supervising language tests). Historical murderers, that is. Those who killed gamekeepers in the mid-1840s (the tensions in rural communities over the strict enforcement of the Game Laws and the ensuing murders of several gamekeepers form the background to "Falling for a Scoundrel"). As I was scanning several old newspapers, I was struck by the peculiar selection of news they were reporting.

There were short snippets on dreadful accidents, horrid murders, and grisly suicides -- and I couldn't help thinking that even respectable looking newspapers rather relished the gruesome details, as this bit from the Bristol Mercury (30 December 1844) shows:

DETERMINED SUICIDE AT CHISWICK -- On Christmas day, the following determined act of suicide was committed at Chiswick. About a quarter past one o'clock, a man, named Hugh Griffith, a grocer, carrying on busieness in the Devonshire-road, Chiswick, cut his throat with a razor, and nearly severed his head from his body. Medical assistance was immediately sent for, and several surgeons were promptly in attendance, but life was quite extinct before they could arrive.

The sheer number of suicides I found mentioned across several newspapers in the months between September 1843 and January 1844 is quite chilling, especially since I was not looking for that particular kind of news. Together with the many reports on poaching (poaching was met with drastic punishments) and on the murders of several gamekeepers, the snippets on suicides tell of the desperation of the poor in rural areas and paint a chilling picture of their situation.

The juxtaposition of these kind of news items with other local news is rather curious, to say the least. In columns on "Local Intelligence" you can find news about murders and suicides right next to things like this:

A Rev. Tractarian at Oxford has married -- to the consternation of his co-celibiates.

(Bristol Mercury, 30 Dec. 1844)

or like this:

The Earl of Yarborough has returned from Town to Brocklesby Hall for the season. The noble lord's fox hounds had a splendid run on Tuesday morning: it lasted an hour and forty-five minutes, and was pronounced the finest of the season.

(Hull Packet and East Riding Times, 29 Dec. 1843)

or like this:

FIRST FRUIT FROM SEVILLE. -- The swift sailing vessel Waterwitch, Grant, arrived at this port yesterday in seventeen days, from Seville, with a cargo of fine Seville China Oranges, imported by Mr. Sprait, and which, as appears by advertisement, will be sold by Mr. Stamp, on Tuesday next.

(Hull Packet and East Riding Times, 29 Dec. 1843)

And whole column ends with:

HEALTH OF EARL GREY. -- We are glad to learn (December 25) from our Alnwick correspondent that Earl Grey continues no worse, his lordship had passed a good night, and upon the whole continues rather better.

(Hull Packet and East Riding Times, 29 Dec. 1843)

Let's Talk Covers!

One of the truly nice things about indie publishing is that you have complete control over your covers. You can pick a design, make sure that the people on the cover match the characters' descriptions in your story, and you can brand a series whichever way you like.

One of the major elements of branding for the covers of the new series will be a blue background. Originally, I thought I'd just use the same sky picture for all covers, but not only would this look boring, but that one picture also doesn't suit all the people I've chosen to go onto the covers.

Sooo, today during my lunch break I went hunting for blue backgrounds. I've already found some nice matches for some covers, but there is one picture of a woman that, as it turns out, is rather difficult to match with a blue background. Hmmmm. Clearly, further experiments are called for!

Writerly Beginnings

I've just put some material together for a short interview. One of the questions was when did I start to write, which, naturally, made me think of all those early writing projects of mine.

I've always invented stories to amuse myself, and I started to write as soon as I could write. My very first novel was called "Dicki und Tomi" and was about a little cat and a little dog, who became friends (this would be the pink writing). During my late teens I started to write poetry (the kind of emotional, angst-filled poetry you write when you're seventeen -- this phase is represented by the upper right image), and finally I turned to fantasy fiction. I wrote everything by hand back then. For one of my novels I made the DIY paperback you see above: I photocopied the whole manuscript, folded the pages, pasted them together and gave them this pretty cover. It was a monstrously big (BIIIIIG!!!!) book, but I was so happy that I could hold my own book in my hands. :-) 

I wrote "Wolfswald" when I was 21, and around this time I also began to think seriously about publication. After submitting my manuscripts (now all nicely typed up) to more or less every publishing house in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland and receiving umpteen rejection letters, I almost despaired of ever finding a publisher. Eventually I had to face fact; I would never find a German publishing house that would buy one of my novels. As a last-ditch effort I decided to start writing in English. I not only changed languages, I also changed genres: my first novel in English was called "Highland Love" and was a contemporary romance set in Scotland -- this was 14 years, and I haven't looked back. :-)

New Beginnings....

Well, when one book ends, a new book starts. :-) It didn't take me terribly long to dive into a new story -- not only because I, well, wanted to, but also because I realised that there should be another story between Novella #1 and Novella #2 in that series I sent to my editor on Thursday.

So this morning, right after breakfast, I spent an hour putting together the first chapter (or perhaps it's going to be a prologue). One of the underlying themes in all three of the other novellas is the restrictions women had to deal with in their everyday lives. Thus two of my heroines are dependent on the charity of their relatives; one is a poor widow, the other an old maid, who has been relegated to the role of nursemaid to ailing family members. Both of them are painfully aware how disadvantaged they are, but they also know that they have little other choice than to submit to their fate. The heroine of The Bride Prize is in a much better position as her father's adored only daughter. Yet even she is aware that she doesn't have a free choice in certain matters; for example, she cannot freely choose whom to marry. Moreover, in The Bride Prize the heroine's aunt is a poor widow who is dependent on the charity of her brother.

So when it came to plot the new novella, Falling for a Scoundrel, I wanted to use this theme as well, but in a slightly different way. Lady Sophia is a typical pampered young woman of the upper class, who has led a very blessed, very easy life. She lives on her father's beautiful country estate and since she was fifteen she has been engaged to marry the handsome (and rich!!) Lord Manton, who is always very courteous to her and compliments her on her singing and her skill at the piano. Sophia isn't even aware what a restricted life she leads and how little she knows of the world. This whole premise was inspired by one of the literary fairy tales I taught last term, namely by Anne Thackeray Richtie's "The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood." So yes, there are probably going to be references to Sleeping Beauty in my novella, and Sophia is rather rudely wakened from her sleep right at the beginning of the story.

Here's the first sentence, which you can just see on the AlphaSmart in the picture above:

Up until that cold day in January, when Death presented to her his cruelest face, Lady Sophia had led a truly charmed life.

Instead of Dinosaurs

And before you worry too much about the dinosaurs or eat oodles of chocolate, you can just as well plot the next story. :-)

The Day after....

The day after sending your manuscript to your editor is always the worst because not only does even your tea cup (well, mug) look slightly battered, but you also come up with 1.000 reasons why your book project sucks, why your editor will hate it, why she will probably drop dead while reading it, why it totally would have caused the extinction of the dinosaurs (if dinosaurs had been able to read, that is).

The best thing you can do then is to stagger into the kitchen and deal with the piles of dirty dishes (including the tea mug).

:-)

Gone with the wind (or perhaps with the chicken)

Under Little Miss Chicken's watchful eye I made the last few edits in the manuscript and then I finally sent the whole thing to my editor. Wooohooo!

(Please keep your fingers crossed that she'll survive the experience of reading the manuscript! :-) )

The Final Battle

This morning, the final battle was wrought (and from the pictures on the covers of those books you can tell how fierce the battle was), and eventually, Sandy emerged victorious:

Woohoooo!!!!!!!

By now I even think the story doesn't suck (which I find slightly worrying). All that remains to be done now is to insert the changes into the other two stories, throw everything together, and then send it to my editor. (At this point feel free to imagine me clapping my hands together like a maniac Duracell bunny.)

Today's Deadline Desks

In the morning, all was still fine.

By 4 p.m. things were getting desperate.

By 6 p.m. things were getting really desperate and a little Kindle Magic was called for.

By now, the book is still not finished, and I'm ready to just roll up and cry. Gargh! I hate deadlines!

Also, do you know that thing you do when you're attracted to somebody whom you've only just met and you look at them and then you look away and then you look at them again and then away and... Well, you know what I mean. Describing something like that? Pure hell! There are, after all, only so many ways you can say: "She looked at him." *sigh*

Midnight Deadline Desk

With shifting piles of books.

And my hero and heroine have finally met! Woohooo! And they're already very much smitten with each other. :-)

The gentleman with the sketchbook chuckled.

Flo glanced at him and found herself looking into a round, homely face with warm, brown eyes alight with humour. His mouth stretched into a broad, slightly lop-sided smile, so infectious and endearing she couldn't help smiling back.

"There's also a Knight of the Swan," he told her. "The Honourable Mr. Jerningham. He can fly."

Today's Deadline Desk

Today's research involves medieval costumes. And my PhD thesis (the published version is just visible in the upper left corner of the picture). And a long article from Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.

The eagle-eyed among you might be just able to make out the three lines shown on the AlphaSmart. They're from a scene between my hero, Robbie Beaton, and his (grumpy) friend William MacNeil:

They were surrounded on all sides by people in costumes, a motely crew indeed, and the colourful procession extended along the shaded avenue leading to the castle.

"I'm already quite overcome by the chivalric atmosphere," Robbie said cheerfully, knowing full well his remark would needle Mac to no end. To heighten the effect, he closed his eyes and inhaled noisily. "Oh yes, I can feel it penetrating my whole body... It's most wonderful!" He chanced a glance at his friend.

Mac, looking up from the guide to the tournament he had purchased at the gate, stared at him for a few moments, his copper brows drawn together. "I think," he finally said, "I'm going to be sick."

~~~~
Today I'm also blogging on Risky Regencies about carnival in Mainz. Helau! :-)

Right now, in my study....

The pet dragon is watching the AlphaSmart magic happening at this very moment in my study.

So far, we have a beginning and an ending for this story, but the whole middle part is still missing. *sigh* Wish me luck!

Some Thoughts on Railway Journeys

Yesterday I spent a lot (and I mean A LOT!) of time researching train timetables of 1839. I could have invented a village, right? But no, I had to take a real village. And for some reason only known to my Muse, I picked a village with such a strange name that everybody will think it a fictional village anyway: Milton-Malzor (sometimes also known as Middleton-Malzor).

So here's our hero, about to undertake a journey to the aforementioned village:

Robbie dashed off to the station and caught the first train that called at Blisworth. The gentleman at the booking office eyed him with some misgivings when Robbie cut short his explanations on luggage allowances and precautions.

"Thanks a lot, but I don't have any luggage."

"No luggage?"

"None," Robbie replied cheerfully.

"Not even a carpet bag?"

"Not even a carpet bag. Just a sketchbook." He held up the proof of this statement.

"That is most unusual," the man said sternly.

""I'm sure it is, but can I get my ticket now or is it against the regulations to travel without any luggage?"

The man muttered something unintelligible before he handed over the third-class ticket Robbie had bought.

More Notebooks & Inspirational Mugs

Already filled one notebook this morning and will now start on the second notebook for the day. In the course of several hours of writing, more and more books and papers tend to migrate onto my desk until I'm surrounded by piles of notes, print-outs, research books, dictionaries, and what not. I have to tidy everything up and clear my desk in the evening, or I won't be able to write the next day.

And, of course, I need tea. Everything is better with a nice cup of tea.

For today's writing spring I've chosen a very special mug: my Pride & Prejudice mug, which is modelled on the design of the old Penguin books (old, that is, in the context of the British market; in Australia, they still have these classic covers on the Popular Penguins series)

Writer Interrupted, or, Duh

Writing didn't go all that well today: I got stuck shortly after that snippet I posted below. Which is not good because, well, I need to finish this story. (At this point you may imagine me running screaming through my flat. Very much like the guy in Munch's The Scream, only with more hair and less green.)

So I spent the afternoon refreshing my knowledge about the historical background to the story. Then I switched on my AlphaSmart, stared at the blinking cursor, and despaired some more. Finally, I caved in and dug out a new notebook and tried working on a different scene.

And lo and behold! -- the words flowed onto the page.

But...

Will I be able to catch up and finish the story in time????

Stay tuned for more updates from Deadline Hell!

My heart's in the highlands...

Returning to the first story of my trio of novellas, which I need to finish this weekend. So who's coming with me to bonnie Scotland? There won't be any men in kilts, I'm afraid, but plenty of people in medieval costume. And knights.

Did I mention knights? ;-)

And then there's what must be the sweetest hero I've ever written. Meet Robbie Beaton, whose kind, round face nearly always wears a good-humored smile. In the following snippet, he and his friend MacNeil have just arrived at their destination in Scotland (MacNeil didn't want to come, so he's a bit grumpy...)

"I do not believe this," Mac said, standing in the middle of the street of a small Scottish town. "You must be joking!"

Robbie bit his lip and surveyed the crowds milling around them. People in what might be taken for medieval dress mingled with people in modern attire, dragging boxes and cases, or pushing wheelbarrows piled high with travel trunks.

"It's...uh...picturesque," Robbie offered.

"It's not picturesque," Mac growled. "It's a bloody farce!"

"Ah, but it makes for good illustrations." Shooting his friend a grin, Robbie dug out his sketchbook, and soon his pencil flew across the page to capture those fascinating, unusual scenes and sights in a few quick sketches.