Because the summer’s all gone

(Maybe not yet, but it’s never to early to start preparing.)

I would love to be able to convey the feeling I get when listening to Autumn Almanac or … Manic Monday. The feeling that everything’s okay. School and stress is nothing as long as you find time to sit indoors watching the autumn storms through thick windows with a great big cup of tea in one hand and a great big book in the other.

Friday evening, people come together,
hiding from the weather.

About friendship and huddleness and pubs and talking philosophically. It makes you work even harder when you do work, which can only be good.

—-

And I know. Manic Monday … I don’t choose these songs deliberately, so what can you do, eh?

Tags: autumn, autumn almanac, bangles, book, kinks, manic monday, tea, work

What are we up to today, then?

Monty Python on record and laughing at people saying you have to pour your soul into a blog. Hell, all I do is lying.

That was a lie.

I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK.
That was a lie too.
Not the OK part, though. I’m ok. Just not a lumberjack.

All is fine. The weather is grey save in my chest. The weather inside me is more like a deep burgundy. It’s a nice colour, burgundy. I’m happy that it’s inside me. The weather outside reflects the book beside me (the one I sneek a peek into every now and again, when homework becomes too much), it’s Wuthering Heights by the Emily Brontë. If you’re a Brontë the correct form is “the”.

But this is not important. The point is that I wore socks without tights today. From now on everything is jolly happy.

I’m simply a joyful cookie.

———

The picture above is a lie as well. I didn’t take it today, so the stone isn’t so happy today, it looks a bit more … what-are-you-looking-at-punk?-ish. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

Tags: blog, book, burgundy, grey, monty python, Spring, world, wuthering heights

What can possibly go wrong?

I want to write.

Writing is something I want more than anything else. I want to have my words transformed into thrilling stories and amazing, life-changing experiences for anyone that read them. I will live in a house by a lake

(not a big house, but not too small either. If no lake is available, a pond will do).

I will take a walk around the lake every day

(in the case of a pond I will have an off-piste walk through the forest nearby).

I will have an amazing husband and fantastic children. But, most importantly, I will write. The rest (husband and children) will come along when life (,or faith, or God, or whoever) says so.

I will never be able to understand people who doesn’t want to write. It may be scientifically proved that fauns and unicorns doesn’t exist in this universe. But if you read and write then surely they do? (I’m not too sure about the unicorns, but when it comes to fauns I’m in no doubt. I’ve seen them plenty of times.) Who chooses what’s supposed to be in this world anyway? People who say that books such as Harry Potter and Narnia is set in a parallel dimension that seems so much like our own! make me angry. How dare they even think that? To think rationally on fiction, they should be sentenced. Fiction is both reality and imagination,

that’s what makes it fiction.

That’s what makes it so real.

Pictures from www.weheartit.com

Tags: book, Dream, faun, fiction, husband, lake, unicorn, Writing

“Brute, Glob. Hello.”

Over the years, my dad has, from time to time, forced me to read books that did not include magic, which I thank him for. I am not a very fantasy-reading person, to me there’s no such thing as fantasy. They are just books including magic. Point is, I never fail to finish one. Ever. With books of a more “real” kind this has actually happened once or twice.

I remember trying to read a book called Juniper when I was younger. I’d got it for christmas. I never found out if it was any good because half-way into the second chapter they started talking about racism and I fell asleep before I’d even finished the word.

So I returned to fairy-tales.

I am not one of those who solely read fantasy and SF. I’m not. Thus I felt disgusted and guilty by being bored by a book that was actually pretty well written. The truth is that books concerning politics of any kind bore me to death. Apartheid, racism, critical view of modern society, I’m asleep already.

Politics have nothing to do marching into the world of fiction. Not in the obvious way, anyway. If they are lurking behind the story and not showing themselves, then that’s fine. It is when they take out a megaphone and starts yelling “Listen up! Blah blah blah” that they ruin everything. Everything

Funny thing is, I’m not bored by books like Jane Eyre or Sense and Sensibility. Neither by Poirot or Ruby in the Smoke (a fantastically exciting detectiveish novel by Mr Philip Pullman). Because politics don’t interfere in the obvious way.

Also, people who analyze every book they read to be about McCarthy or global warming or apartheid. This is over-analysis, no matter what the author intends. Let fiction be fiction and keep reality out of it (let it at least seem so). We read for a reason, that reason isn’t always wanting to stop global warming or getting depressed by oppressed kids in Somalia.

———–

This post is dedicated to my cousin Henrik, who didn’t believe I’d be able to post twice in two days. Hah!

Tags: apartheid, book, fantasy, fiction, henrik, over-analysis, politics, racism, reading, sandman, SF

If it were up to me

I wish it were up to me how my world could be.

If it was, it would be something like this:

• Long walks under the stars
• More taking my bike, cycling along the sea, at night
• More strawberries
• More bedtime reading
• Blue skies
• Snow in the winter, and then going crazy (with joy, obviously)
• Beautiful second-hand treasures!
• Fewer hard choices
• More home-made dresses
• Plenty of books bound by me

And a lot more, it’ll come later, don’t you worry.

Tags: blue sky, book, home-made, strawberry, walks