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.
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 […]
I wasn’t going to say anything about this because it should be obvious what I think. People that kill for their race or religion are misguided, stupid and morally bankrupt. If there is a reason for this life that we live, it has to be to treat each other well and try to learn something. […]
Ben kissed her on the cheek, slipped past her and into the kitchen. He returned with a large cake with candles lit. Francisca gestured him to quickly put the cake on the table and inhaled. Hesitated. This wasn’t right.
2021 will be a year of great triumph or a massive failure. I have dedicated myself to writing one short story every week. Really short and simple stories, 1000 words or thereabouts. But every week.
My novel isn’t quite finished yet. In fact, I don’t think any work of art is ever “finished”. It gets abandoned when the creator has had enough, has other ideas pushing for attention and deems that the current one is good enough. Under The Black Sand isn’t quite there yet. Give it a few weeks, a […]
It’s hard to imagine the thrill of writing a full blown novel until you do it. When Under the Black Sand was completed, six years ago, I could hardly believe it. If I can do it once, I can do it again, I though. in 2017, Blood and Rain was published. It was written differently, […]
“Michael Hastings contacted WikiLeaks lawyer Jennifer Robinson just a few hours before he died, saying that the FBI was investigating him.” – says the Guardian. Michael Hastings was best known for his 2010 article in the Rolling Stone magazine about General Stanley McChrystal. The general was forced to resign from his post as commander of all U.S. […]