Moments is a work in progress. The idea was to publish a new short story every Friday in 2021, starting on 8 January. This is a large and demanding task, and half a year has gone by succesfully. At…
The audience was still stomping and clapping, calling his name. It annoyed him slightly. What did they want from him? The same old songs he’d played for years on end? The same banter between the songs? I wrote this one after… blah, blah, blah.
Sagt er að á Jónsmessu geti kýr talað, álfkonur freisti manna og selir breytist í menn. Jón fór til hvílu, en honum varð lítið um svefn þessa nóttina.
According to Icelandic tradition, on the night of Summer Solstice, cows can speak, seals turn into humans and rolling in the morning dew will bring good fortune.
We did not turn on the lights at night, as you probably expect of our sort. Neither did we slam doors or look through the windows from the outside. Never did we rearrange jars in the kitchen or throw furniture around. We are not like that.
Waking up to a thundering headache, it took a while for my eyes to adjust, yet I couldn’t place where I was. Never been here before. Music played somewhere.
Last night, someone sent me a message saying Under the Black Sand was being discussed in a reader’s group on Facebook. That is pretty cool, so I took a look. She was happy with it and the novel kept her interested and I was thrilled to read that. However… She mentioned having to ignore typos. […]
If a book is good, or at least popular, chances are that someone will make a film based on it. But how often does the reverse happen? Under the Black Sand wasn’t meant to be a novel. It started as a short film. I wrote the screenplay in the Netherlands, where I live, but the […]
Growing up in the shadow of the atomic bomb was an odd experience. I remember sitting in a sand box, playing with a plastic shovel. Possibly eating the black volcanic sand. Another kid said the Russians had more bombs than the Americans. That was scary, because the Russians were the enemy. He said they could […]
The blog is quiet on the surface, but don’t be fooled. Here is what’s up. My second novel, Blood and Rain, is as good as complete. A few minor tweaks, then a bit of photography, cover design, trailer and a Twitter storm. The site went offline in September 2015, as my hosting account was shut […]
It’s Saturday morning and I’m sitting in my sunny garden, drinking coffee. Organ music echoes through the neighbourhood and black smoke rises from the old steam mill’s chimney. It’s Open Monuments Day in the village. My five year old loves music. He asks me if I’ll take him to the church. He wants to listen […]
The writing of Under the Black Sand is in the final stages. Sentences are being polished and paragraphs shortened. Whole scenes are being deleted without mercy, if they drag along or don’t add to the story. Here is one which is still in, but only just. It may very well be cut before the book […]
The gate was open, and she entered the cemetery. New graves, old and overgrown. Names of couples that had insisted on being buried next to each other, children. People she didn’t know and would never get to know. Vera walked up a path towards a grave. Looked at the stone.