It comes from the depths…

It's done. From the Depths is written, edited and passed muster with the beta readers. Formatting is almost finished, then it is off into the wild with it. And not before time.

The initial spark for this story was a documentary on the Loch Ness monster - almost eighteen months ago. An idea percolated in my subconscious, bubbling to the surface in a very different form than I had first envisaged.

When last we met Viola, in Eye of the Beholder, she had survived a harrowing experience. It would take some time for the after-effects to work out of her system. She needed a holiday. I did some research on medical therapies of the late 1800s. The story was set: an Autumn dip in the cold sea waters of the North Sea was just the thing Viola needed.

Cold water bathing was a common 19th century/Victorian therapy for melancholia and panic attack. . It was an ancient practice, used by the Greeks and ancient Egyptians and still practiced in parts of Europe  today.

So how does Viola fare on her sea-side adventure? Why don't you find out?

Viola Stewart returns for a third set of adventures. Viola needs a holiday. But even at the beach, there are things afoot. Seeing is believing… or is it?

(novelette length story)

Watch this space for more information for launch date in August.

Here's a preview of the book trailer:

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFiripKd20g[/embed]

For more about Viola's adventures, follow this link. Click HERE to view more book trailers

Need to catch up on Viola's adventures? You can find the first two books at: the Club Table at Nullus Anxietas this weekend,  or online - details HERE.

Some Sea Bathing References (web):

If I have to read that one more time…

Edits. I hates them. But not why you think.

Yes, they take for... ever. Hours scribbling on paper, crossing out words, adding others, checking references. My back burns, my eyes ache and that niggly tickling pain creeps down my leg. (Sciatica sucks.)

I've lost count of how many times I sift through my thesaurus looking for that one word - the perfect one - to describe a character's mood, to show how they feel; stomping down the hallway conjures up a completely different image to inching down the hallway. (In this case: her footsteps padded on the carpet runner...)

But rewrites and edits are one of the most important steps in writing. They can take longer the first draft (depending on the quality of the first draft). Some of my stories have three rewrites; others - such has Tomorrow, When I Die - take up to eight or nine rewrites. It depends on how well the story was planned out, how much research was done (or needed doing), whether the story had taken a left turn and wandered off into uncharted territory or, in my case, how ill I was when scratching out the first draft.

There is nothing more annoying - or disappointing - as reading a story with dangling plot lines, sloppy writing or bad grammar. I've seen whole sentences repeated on occasion. I just don't understand how such stories get published - even by the big publishers. It seems to be an acceptable way of cost-cutting for some. <Insert heavy sigh and enormous sad face here.>

But what's the real reason I hate editing?

When I've read through a story for the umpteenth time, the fun and games seem to lose their gloss. It would be different if I could just enjoy the adventure - but no - I have to examine, judge, decide. I have to keep count of how many times a character has 'raised an eyebrow', whether they are sitting down or standing up and ask myself: 'can she really see that if she's hiding under the desk?'

It gets to a point where the manuscript gets slapped on the table and the house shudders with: "I can't take this any more!"

And that's when I know. It is done. It is time for my editor to check for commas and spelling mistakes. I press send and await her report.

I pour myself a cup of tea, nibble on a piece of chocolate and catch up on that series I missed... but not for long.

There's still one more story to finish. A new story. One last adventure for Viola and her friends. I'll miss them. They've taught me a lot. (The good news is the editing funk is not permanent; when I go back and read the stories next year, it will be all new again.)

Now, where are my notebooks for The Illusioneer?