We are all so very lost

When I was feeling out of place at a party this weekend I was wondering what went on in the heads of the people attending it.

Did they really enjoy their work so much?  (They went on and on and on about it. I can’t fill three minutes talking about my job).

Is their life really as easy as it sounds? (A lot of times Sometimes I wonder what the &%#!@ I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do)

Are their kids really as well behaved as they say they are? (mine are not)

It felt like I was part of a play and a thought popped up in my mind. A thought I can’t seem to shake.

We are all so very lost. And we are all pretending.

Sipping our drinks, hearing but not listening, talking without actually saying anything worth saying.

At that moment I felt strangely connected to everyone at that party.

Because it’s better to be lost together.

I know.

I should sleep more.

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The Sea, the Fox and the Coffee cup

No, I’m not writing a peculiar version of a Narnia novel, but I did threw together these characters from my novel in planning to create a title because it sounded cool and Narnian. ( I know that a coffee cup isn’t a character but Narnia had a wardrobe so I think I can get away with a cup).

I’m writing a story about the Sea, the North Sea to be specific. I think the North Sea is unintentionally turning out to be The Bad Guy. The one that takes, but can’t be taken. Not that my main character isn’t going to try. She is stealing water from the sea, capturing it in glass jars. And now the Sea is coming for her.

Or at least I think it’s going this way. 🙂

How fun it is to be a writer and have absolutely zero clue what you are doing.

Hello Autumn

Autumn is here, bringing rain and dark mornings.

I feel a bit melancholic and am not entirely sure it’s because the time that was, the time that is or the time that’s yet to come. And I guess it doesn’t really matter.

Autumn’s here. I’m here. That’s all there is to it.

So what Am I Going to Do with this One precious Autumn in 2017?

I’m going to get back to writing and editing. There are stories to be told, stories to unfold and stories that need to change.

(I know I promised pictures in my previous post. But my computer at work is not cooperating so you’ll have to wait for those.

(sorry not sorry)

🙂

Back Home

My thirty day holiday flew by, leaving me with memories of sandy beaches, roaring waves and happy times. (Next post will contain pictures!)  I’ll try to cling to them while I’m being wrapped up in my day tot day life.

I often write about memories, not only actual ones but also the mechanism.

How memories are triggered by smell. How they get mixed up. How they blur, why they are forgotten and why they sometimes come back. It fascinates me.  I’m blessed with a decent memory, although I have a thing for remembering non-important facts: the striped socks I wore on my seventh birthday/phonenumbers from my childhood friends/ the shape of an island when I was on a holiday years ago (it was shaped like a turtle) .

Anyway I’m back home, getting back  in ‘normal’ mode. I’m starting a new job next month,  school starts again next week. I’ve got loads of writing to get back to. But I’m not going to push myself or put pressure on it. I’m going to (try to) enjoy it.

Because happy isn’t a goal to be reached, it’s a moment. And if you’re lucky it will become a long-lasting memory.

Atlantis

WP_20170805_15_47_45_Pro (2).jpgBonjour from Bretagne!

A short post to inform you that I’ve found the stairway to Atlantis (picture above). The entrance fee is a seagull feather, your first memory of the sea and a starfish, in case you ever found yourself knocking on the doors of this underwater world. A small price to pay, trust me.

 

 

 

In which I Overuse Caps Lock and Repeat Myself

Two more days at work and then I AM FREE.

Yes I know, I have to get back to work eventually but for THIRTY days I AM FREE.

THIRTY FREE DAYS.

I imagine you’re wondering if it’s really necessary to use the caps lock this much but I can assure you: IT IS. Same goes for repeating myself.

Very necessary. (because thirty days).

Sunday we’re leaving for Bretagne and I fully intend to capture the surroundings on my Instagram account. Of course I’m also planning to read books (two of them being: Strange the Dreamer & A Gathering of Shadows) and I’m bringing my laptop and notebook for some writing.

But mostly I’m going to relax, ponder ridiculous story ideas and enjoy time with my family

(Read: try not to worry too much about the kids eating/drinking/sleeping enough and make sure they don’t get stung by creepy insects or jelly fish. I’m probably also going to apply gallons of sunscreen on them).

And after the French break, comes the Spanish one.

Because I’m also going to Fuerteventura for a week of reading books, pondering ideas, writing stuff. And to learn how to surf.

Not bringing the kids, just us.

I hope your summer is radiant like mine.

Magic is Real (or: I like wine)

Big Fish, Prince of Mist, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, The Shadow of the Wind are amongst my all time favorite reads.

The feel of the extraordinary captured within the frames of reality (or sometimes just outside its boundaries) is what I often try to achieve in my writing.

When brainstorming these stories or wondering about one of its characters  I’m in a particular mood. A mood wherein magic is more real, more tangible. If I was to describe this mood (and obviously I’m going to because I would be a pretty lousy writer if I didn’t try)

I would describe this like:

Having two glasses of wine on an empty stomach,  being happy on a superficial level and wondering what would happen if #insert-idea-that-could-be-real-if-a-little-magic-sipped-through-from-another-dimension

(what if: you could sell your dreams but the cost is nightmares/ your father is the sea/you can control insects/there’s a ghost living in the garden shed/the statue on the town square cries every evening at eleven).

 

Maybe I drink too much (wine: preferably temperanillo/rioja or a really cold  pinot grigio when the sun is shining).

🙂