Flying: Magic and Wonderful and Strange

I’m crying. Of joy and relief.

The novel which I started imagining and jotting down eight years ago, finally has a scene by scene outline. And while I was writing down the outline, the end, which until now has been a mystery to me, became clear and my mind filled out a few other blank spaces in the story that I’ve been uncertain or oblivious about.

There’s a quote of Neil Gaiman in the Prince of Stories book:


It has been on my wall since I first got the book from my brother, but I remember reading it on Neil’s blog years ago. I always wanted to believe in it and today I do. I think today I’ve experienced a bit of the flying.

I know there’s a long hard walk ahead, but I’m eager to get to it!

Hope your Friday has been as productive and happy as mine!





It’s 3am, but I’m awake and decided to drop a line or two because my sleep ran away for a moment.

So things have proceeded in my current life change, rapidly, as they usually do at this point. Except that my last day in my current job will be the end of March. Or, well, the information and decision part of my life change happened in a day and  another,  but now I’m at the Pending part, where the new website is downloading…. downloading….. downloading. … or maybe an old style modem is trying to connect my life back to the network.

I took a week off work to come help in my friend’s move and scout out my dad’s flat where I’ll be staying for the spring and summer. I also met with my brother who arranged for a warm storage for most of my stuff that I can’t take to my dad’s  (a lot of books), and we figured out a project for me for the summer, where can self-employ and earn a few euros.

The move has kept me pretty busy, but there are a lot of times, like now, in the middle of the night, when I’m itching to get home to start my own packing and sorting through the stuff that goes to charity.

And writing keeps my mind busy as well. My 90 days schedule has delayed only by a day and that was because I was at my friend’s for 10 hours that day and only had energy enough after to pour half a bottle of wine down my throat and then go directly to sleep.

Write about what you know, right? I think the reason the manuscript is progressing so well is that I’m again at a place in my life where I can identify with the main character. The main character finds herself in a similar situation to mine, having drifted by chance and not by her own influence into a life of inaction. Her case is a BIT different, having been kidnapped as a baby by a cat, but I feel like I’m both the writer and the audience, who find that, reading a certain book at different times of their life, you get a new aspect out of it.

So a catharsis sounds a rather dramatic name for the blog post.  Maybe it should be: Extremely Slow Detox…. But I’m keeping the title for dramatic effect.

I feel the sleep returning…

Good Night and Love,


#tbt to way back when. I always loved writing.

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A Spring ritual

The ground begins to thaw and there are only piles of grey snow in the places the snowploughs have gathered it, the sea ice melts and I make a pilgrimage with my father. We’ve been doing this as long as I remember and will probably keep the tradition as long as there’s ink on our brains.

My dad and I have this shared delusion.  We think we can write. And so we do. We string words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs. Eventually these form stories. Our styles and subject matters are very different but the fruit of out labour ends up in the same place. A bonfire.

I think I’ve inherited my writing delusion from my dad. I don’t just love the process and result of writing, I also love the process after it. My dad writes a story, perfects it, sends it to a publisher, they send it back and then we burn it. I haven’t yet gone as far as sending anything to a publisher (though I’m getting there), but I add the drafts I’ve made and discarded to the pile.

Growing up with this kind of tradition has given me one advantage to many other writers: I don’t have delusions of publishing.



Becoming… well, me again

I signed my resignation papers yesterday and since it takes a while to process them, my last day at my current place of employment will be 11 March.

My brain has been trying to keep up with this process. And when there was just an endless drudge of working in this place ahead of me, I kept sleeping longer and longer nights. But ever since I talked to my supervisor and agreed on how to proceed, I have been feeling totally energised.

Before I started working in this place, and a little after it too, I didn’t need so much sleep. I used to sleep 5-7 hours a night and really well and I cannot remember that I ever took an afternoon nap. As I started working  I took it as something natural that since “I’m working now” I was more tired. Which is silly, because before that I was a full time student. But the difference was that I used my brain to something I loved when I studied, and that kept me energised. I have never loved my work, though there have been times I was comfortable enough in it.

So imagine my surprise when my mind is now eager to take on tasks it loves, instead of what it must do. Writing is exhausting sometimes. It really takes a bite out of me, but at the same time, I get so much pleasure from it that it evens the scale.

I only slept 6 hours last night. But instead of exhausted, I feel eager for the day.

The people who work I  places they love will think “duh”, and not everyone is lucky enough to have this kind of opportunity to start anew. I’ve always loved the feeling of getting lost in a new but fairly safe place. A new town, a new story. I feel like I’m now (to use a cliché) stepping in a new direction and I can’t really see through the fog what’s ahead of me, but there are friends and family to help me up if I stray into deep bog.




I’m considering quitting my current job. Actually my employer offered it as one of my two options.

The first option is to continue in the current job, but go into more specific training for it on a field I have absolutely no passion for. The second is to get 5 months salary and take the leap into uncertainty.

I’m going with the second option. Yes,  I know finding a new job is not easy, and I know it will throw new challenges in my way. But frankly, I prefer the challenges and uncertainty to the current job’s challenges and steady pay. I must be mad.

In fact my whole family must be mad. Excepting my brother who would enjoy my line of work himself and considers me insane. My dad AND, miraculously enough, my mum were all for it. Both because they think my reasoning is valid, but especially my mum because I’ll be moving back to my home town.

So yes. I’m impatient to get to work tomorrow to talk to my supervisor and cannot sleep,  which sucks, because the time would pass quicker asleep.


In other news, I’ve started to actually write my novel. I mean, I’ve written it in piecemeal wit bits still missing but now I started following this 90-day programme to plan and structure and write it and it’s already been a lot of help. I’m in day 10 and I’m already the wiser about a lot of the stuff that was unclear before.

The 90-day programme is designed more in mind of someone who only has an idea or a character in mind and I’ve already got 17 chapters written of my novel, so I’m improvising and adapting it as I go along.

OK,  I finally feel a bit sleepy.

G’night and love,