Chapter 1

Martin Lundeen placed his fingers carefully over the top of the cubicle partition and peaked over, as directed by the staff photographer, Sam Jackson. Placing his nose on the partition edge between his fingers, Martin said, “How long is it going to take for you to snap this lame photo?” Sam grunted and replied, “As long as it takes to make you look somewhat interesting to our cultivated readers.”
Martin sighed. The last indignity in a long line of indignities at the Burnett County Sentinel. Low rung assignments – Chamber meetings, church socials, celebrations of the anniversaries of local businesses, anything dull, mundane, small town – that had been Martin’s beat for the two years he’d been working at the Sentinel. Clark Grayson, the editor, promised him that getting his own weekly column, “Quips from the Cubicle”, would vault his career at the newspaper and get him assigned to stories that were a little more…relevant.
“Perk up, Marty,” chirped Sam. “When I get done creating the perfect picture, you’ll not only be the most famous newspaper man in Burnett County, you’ll have women crawling all over ya.”
“That’s Martin, not Marty,” he replied, “and I’m not sure there are any woman in Burnett County I’d want crawling all over me.”
“That’s your problem, Marty,” said Sam. “You’re way too picky.”
“If I was all that picky, I wouldn’t be working here,” muttered Martin. “And I sure wouldn’t be living in Burnett County.”
Martin was frowning when Sam finally snapped “the perfect picture”. And that was the picture that accompanied his weekly column beginning the following week.

Had Martin Lundeen lived anywhere else than Burnett County, he would blend into the woodwork. He was average in every aspect of his appearance - 5’10” tall, slight build, pasty white complexion, mousy brown hair, dull gray eyes and gold wire-rimmed glasses that sat slightly crooked on his nose. You couldn’t say he was good looking, but he wasn’t bad looking either. The only thing about his appearance that generated comment was that although he was 25 years of age, he looked like one of the newspaper’s high school interns. That, and the fact that he dressed like someone out of an Agatha Christy mystery. He liked to dress in ill-fitting tweed jackets with patches on the elbows, bowties, twill Dockers and saddle shoes. Had there been a decent smoke shop anywhere in the vicinity, he would have picked up a pipe and smoked it on a regular basis.
Martin’s wardrobe was just one reason why he was considered peculiar, oddly cultured and a little snooty by the fellow residents of Burnett County. He grew up in Burnett County, Siren, to be specific, and graduated from the Siren High School in a class of 27. Upon graduation, Martin made a point of telling anyone who would listen that after going to Marquette University, he was going to be a journalist at a big newspaper in a big city. Martin was sure that a Pulitzer Prize was in his future, and used the summer before going to college to be the kind of jerk that Burnett County people loved to hate.
But Martin didn’t know that he would develop a psychosis while at Marquette that rendered him unable to function at full capacity while living in any city with a population of over 2,000 people. The booming metropolis of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, overwhelmed Martin, and immediately after receiving his degree in journalism, he moved back to Siren, moved back into his old bedroom in his mother’s home and finessed a job at the Sentinel by telling Clark Grayson that he had totally misjudged the opportunities available in Burnett County and nothing would bring him more joy or make him feel more honored than to cover the important news in the north woods of the Wisconsin vacationland.
When Clark hired Martin, he let him know he’d make him pay a bit for his youthful arrogance and disrespect by being assigned stories that lacked interest and controversy, stories that would help him cut his journalistic teeth. On Martin’s first official day, Clark started his orientation speech with “Martin, the important thing at the Sentinel is to report the news in Burnett County without offending anyone. This isn’t a big city - there are no scandals, no serious crime, no reason to ruffle feathers. Our job is to add to the overall ambience of north woods relaxation and fun.”
At first Martin thought Clark was kidding and started to smile, but Clark continued, “I’m serious, Martin. Any person in Burnett County who might be doing anything that isn’t exactly above board is probably an advertiser, and we can’t afford to offend a single advertiser. Keep your eyes focused on the obvious facts and don’t dig too deep. There’s nothing to find anyway – you know that. Burnett County is one big snooze fest. So go out and cover tonight’s Siren School Board meeting.”
Clark turned and walked out of Martin’s cubicle, leaving Martin to pick up his jaw from the dirty brown carpet on floor. He looked at the school board agenda that Clark handed him before leaving and scanned it for anything that might pass for a juicy debate on local education. Clark was right – a total snooze fest.