i finished my book!

Ok, so it’s not totally print-worthy finished. Nevertheless every chapter has been written, every note and comment and character well rounded and a part of the ride of its life, of my little novel. I can’t quite believe that I made it here, to this mountain I’m standing on and wondering whether to turn back whilst I still can or keep on keeping on to the top of the summit like a spider to the fly.
Whether this book makes it, with me in tow, isn’t the point. It’s that I reached this high completely myself by my own head and hands. If I died tomorrow – this is one of the true few things I can be proud of. It was something I didn’t plan. I never sat down and thought, “hey I think I’ll ruin my damn mind and sit down and write a book.” Never came to me. I knew I wanted to write but the thought of writing a book and living with yourself throughout, and working full time, was not on my cards — until it was.

For years I’ve filled notebooks with phrases, ideas and little people I thought it would be good to meet and learn a thing or two from. Those hundreds of notebooks are not in a single binding. 
The first novel of me. 
Now I’ll need to back it all up – once, twice & thrice! After that I’ll see about getting it printed somewhere so I can sit down and hold it in my hands. When I’m done staring at the title and being in awe of the actual fact that I FINISHED DAMN NOVEL. Then I’ll pour myself a tall cool glass of Dr. Pepper and start reading. As I go I’ll be making notes, see what does and doesn’t work and then make changes like it was the entire intension from the beginning.
It’s a rare feeling I have in my heart today. I could make an audience scream with laughter, I could be a good person and I could write a book. I’ve done all these things now. No idea where I’m going with that train of thought or where I’ve been, but so and so. 
 Much like myself, I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell my next step is. I haven’t a fucking clue.Right now I’ll drown myself in the euphoria of having finished the novel. Allow me that, and join me if you wish. The novel that I seem to have been unconsciously meaning to write since nowhere.

No, thats not the title of my book. Forgive me if i don’t share it with you, but its a title im very proud of and until the book is published — i’d prefer to keep it to myself. This is only the first five chapters of my story, but its better than nothing. Hopefully tomorrow i can go somewhere and print a full draft, stupid how excited that really makes me!

I have a few literary agents that I get good vibes from that happen to accept western submissions, something that is surprisingly rare nowadays – but I’m bringing this genre back from the dead. I’m hoping it won’t be too troublesome to find someone I can see myself working with long term, but they’ll have to enjoy my random nonsensical blutterings and made up words – and then also be able to deal with my company. We’ll see. Wish me luck.

brace yourself

Im trying to brace myself. Everyone is out of the office till the rest of the week and im absolutely taking advantage of that. Ive finished my writing exercise for the day and been looking for the 100th time for a single agent i feel positive about. Just to be a wee bit ahead 0f whatever game it is that im playing. I found three that i think i might be fantastic. Whether they’ll think the same of me is the hard part. We shall see.

Now. Ive had an obligatory office donut, i chose the one with almonds, and so for the rest of the day i will be doing this and that. Until around 2.30 when i steal away to the student center and kiss with Jack Kerouac for an hour. I would rather be home watching Secret Window of course. A weird movie to inspire someone but its my favourite film and i think of it often to get myself into the spirit of writing.

Lately ive had a few issues with HR at work which is why im so overly stressed and thinly strung, but none of that now.

a day in the life of a lowly semi-published writer

It’s Friday, almost the best day of the week for me because my give-a-shit is nil and it’s almost Saturday. Today I wanted to show you what a regular day in my life looks like.

I woke up at dick o’clock this morning unable to breathe due to the air is awful dry here. I got ready, packed my work bag and before leaving I checked on the bird in my wash room; to make sure he was warm enough and had something to eat/drink while I’m gone.


And so into the frosty air we ventured to the bus stop and waited the 5 minutes it takes to arrive. The buses here are incredible. They come to the end of our road every 5 to 6 minutes until 6.30pm at night. As you can imagine this is very convenient as we barely use the car at all and can keep it in the garage when the weather is bad. Jack and I walk to work together, Jack walks me to my office because that’s love and when I reach my desk I’m usually 30 minutes early. I hate getting to work so early but it’s the best way to avoid an over cramped bus with too many students that all smell of body odor and mistakes.
Besides it gives me time to get into the mindset of being surrounded by people all day.

Throughout the day I do my job, which is what it is. My job helps pay to fund our habits of travel, swords, cameras and never ending balls of yarn – – until one day my books take the stand and see me paid for for the rest of my probably short life. Then I can have a sommerhus in Denmark and be surrounded by home when ancestral air whenever I like, and fly back to Wyoming or Texas; wherever my horses may be. Who knows, I may wish to return home for good one day. Denmark is very different these days though however.


When there is down time at work that is when I force myself to write, and some days it truly is a battle.
I’m lucky in that I can always produce good content when it comes to writing, but for me it is about find the adequate content for the right project. Anyway, I’ll put on my inspirational music which brings down my heart rate so I can relax into my story, and I can sit and type for hours and forget the day. That is the happiest and most pleasant part of my work day. I tested my heartrate theory the last few days in fact because I’m odd like that but with the way my heart has been in the past it’s not a bad idea to keep a close eye on it. My heart rate is at the same rate when I’m sleeping as it is when I’m writing, whereas the moment someone speaks to me or asked me to do something its rockets up to 78. That to me is proof that my body craves words like sex and air, and that I should probably go to the doctor but I’m not paying for that shit. If I do not write I become sick in the mind. Going to work I see as a way to force and teach myself into a routine where I can bring writing to fruition on a consistent basis. If only I could do the same with reading but if my bosses see me with a book in my hand that might be over kill. I do try to read a little before I sleep, you cannot write if you do not read. Then you are doing half the work and hoping for the best.

And that is where I am sitting right now. At work writing to you because today is a day where my novel and I are finding it hard to figure each other out. I find myself counting the minutes to lunch time every day because I do intermittent fasting where I don’t begin to eat until noon and then I stop eating at 8pm. At higher altitude that is a pretty hard habit to get into but I’m slowly making progress. I’ve made myself a special lunch today of fruit, home-made rye bread, dried cherry + spinach + kale salad with a dark chocolate oat drink. I made Jacks lunch for him last night and that was when the incident with blasted unboil-able rice occurred and no I’m not ready to talk about it. My heart rate immediately went to a solid 75 just mentioning it. 😉


So when I have finished here I shall go get my lunch and watch YouTube videos during my break. Proceed with whatever writing that I can until its home time. When that jubilant moment comes forth I shall find Jack, get on the bus and ride home to my domicile with pride and freedom in my heart.  Supposedly we are making a trip to Walmart for a new apple TV and then coming home where I will cook a Danish Meal called “millionbøf,” with scallions and vegetable spaghetti and bison meat.
Wow. Could that be anymore westernized than that? Bison meat instead of lovely Danish cows. I might even allow myself a dr.pepper (i did).  The space heater that looks like a cackle-oven will be lit and that’s when I’ll post this.


I’ve also planned my first real video since we’ve moved here, but when I have time to film it will be the question. I’ve been trying to discover the best settings in premier pro for exporting videos and the best camera settings but I’m not quite there yet. When I watch back my YouTube videos (rare) I notice that it looks compressed/sharpness has gone to balls and no matter what I do seems to fix the issue. I expect its many factors but its pisses me off. Its also a large part of the reason I don’t post as many videos as I’d like.


I wish you a good night and i hope you enjoyed a more in depth view of my life.
More to follow i’m sure. How did you spend your Friday today? 

something you’d rather be doing

I’ll be working 5 days a week from now on, as my job offered me a second position in the same office. I don’t mind it much, i’m grateful — sure, but there’s always something you’d rather be doing. Truthfully i’m not much built for office work and having a boss, but alas — one must hustle to get the golden egg. I just know i need to sleep. Where its good and safe. Away from the screaming. The holy terrors and bad ideas. Christ i wish i could sleep.


Recently i disappeared. I turned off all my social media. It was starting to stress the hell outta me, and when it starts doing that it sure as shit isn’t worth it anymore. I’m not the kind of person who wants to chase social media like a butterfly chases the last of the dying flowers in the autumn. No sir, i sure ain’t ! I don’t care. I simply just don’t care enough to show my whole life on the internet and i shan’t apologise for that. It’s not what i’m about. So i turned off instagram which in turn lost me followers — so what? Instagram reminds me a lot of past clingy relationships, so in much the same case; good riddance ! I turned off facebook apart from the few conversations i keep with my family in Denmark so they know i’m not dead. I haven’t made another vlog either, as i’m sure a few of you have noticed, and i’ve been meaning to. I have it planned out though, but finding the time is the kicker with how much of it i don’t have. The thing is that i can’t predict when i’m going to get inspired. I don’t know when i’ll get a wild hair up my arse and want to create or write.
Unfortunately i didn’t get round to working on my western either, its crazy how time slips away when you’re living in the wrong place or living for one goal and then in turn end up missing another. Well, i guess i also LET it slip away a little. The snow is long gone now though and i haven’t even scratched the surface really. So for now we write, we plan and we choreograph. And if it ends up being filmed in the desert? I’ll be pleased as punch. Boy, what a dream. To sit in a run down telegraph house writing  about the Outlaw and the Ranger, as the Texas desert burns like a son of bitch outside, where the town isn’t big enough for me and Josie-Moe to be on the same street without getting into some kind of fight about stockings or the newest hairstyles, that i secretly don’t care about but i love the argument just the same.

sound of the birds

“I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.” —J.B. Priestley

I’ve started running in the evenings, and taking “mini” nature hikes. Something i haven’t done for almost 6 years — since i lived in the UK. Sitting in the middle of the forest path alone with my mind, watching chipmunks and squirrels beating each other over the size of nuts and listening to the hawk flutter his span in the branches. Walking around the woods with no one but me, with my mane of hair hanging at my elbows, just like it always should be. Sometimes i swear i can hear my ancestors out there telling me to get my ass in gear and do what i was meant to.
Why, I can’t tell you how good its been for my soul.
The dangerous thing is its got me reflecting.

I’ve noticed that some of my blog posts come across a little blue or negative. The thing about me is that i’m not necessarily a sad person, but i am a wondering person. A ponderer. Often my writing gets misconstrued as the negative ramblings of a depressive soul — no. Whilst i’m prone to the emotion on a relatively consistent basis, thats not to say thats all i see. Having said that — let’s get in deeper.

Recently things haven’t been going the way i’d planned, at all — i would say things had gone completely to utter shit but i’m going to look at it as positively as i can. In itself — that for me is a struggle. That wasn’t my road, and i know what its like to walk in the wrong direction only to keep walking. This time i turned my ass 90 degrees and walked some place else. You see i lost my job not long ago… well “lost” and “lost.” Through no fault of my own the job is no more. A job i gave up two other jobs for and i basically got pissed on like some lame ass fire in a barrel, just as i was trying to warm the hands of the poor by my flame. I wont say it ruined my life, because i work to live — i don’t live to work.
But of course i was peeved.
Who wouldn’t be?
Hold up, wait a minute.
Shit happens.

Thanks to Jack, and his magical ways, he pulled me back.
“I fully support you to be creative, thats what makes you happy, you’re good at it — and thats what you should do.”
I swear, if i could “Bottle” his way of being — i’d uncork that bottle and get high on his train of thought.
He really is the dick to my balls.
kidding. 

Life has its challenges, and its not supposed to be easy. I should be thankful for the struggle, and i am — because it means my novels are as well fed as chubby milk cows. Oh my many many unfinished novels. Sometimes i find it so hard to face those hundreds of hours of neglected work. To see all those pages from my soul wasted on a hard drive somewhere waiting for me to finishing them, all stories from places that drain me and break me. But the novels are closure from pain, grief and regrets — i deserve that. Closure, but i don’t need it. Past is past and everything is what it is.
And today was a wonderful day, even though i pulled two ticks out of my leg. See positivity does wonders, no?

They say you should always look on the bright side of life, but thats not what i do. I live in the dark corners of every day. Where the lurkers sit and smoke together watching life roll by. We know what it is to hurt and we don’t play into those new movements everyones singing about, because we know what we do and we wont stop doing it. He or she this and that. Sometimes i think i’m physically incapable of thinking positively. Thats simply not how i’m wired and it makes for some of my best writing. I’m a depressive soul, a poet with a nosebleed and a writer with an anxiety complex. Sometimes i’m just a bastard for no reason, but as i said. It makes for honest work as raw as a bone.
And living with negativity the way i do means that when i see beauty, i see it hard and heavy.
It leaves me breathless like a hefty smack to the chops. And though it may be forgotten and replaced by a negative thought — i can be grateful that i got the chance to see it at all.
That being said. No matter how deeply i disappear into cruelty of my novels or negativity, i have Jack to make me laugh till i fart, and you know what?
Thats the best thing that happens to me all day.
I’m happy lucky to have him to bring me back to where i should be.
“Be creative.”

So a few nights ago i saw this beautiful and frankly, astounding documentary about André René Roussimoff, famously known as Andre The Giant.
And it caught me thinking.
A man with a soul such as his and all he wanted in the end was to live in peace. He started with nothing, and ended with everything — he worked for what he had, but in the end what did he truly want?
To drive around his ranch in North Carolina that reminded him of  his beautiful France over 3000 miles to the east, and be away from photographers, negative people and the pain of memories.
To be truly him.
I tried doing what others do — going out and working 9 to 5 jobs that don’t sit right with me, but you gotta work for your meals.
I’ve wiped asses, i’ve struggled till my knuckles bled and i’ve cried over the stupidity of the many terrible bosses/managers i’ve come across.
But now.
I’m in charge.
*que deep ambient – yet hardcore cinematic music*

Let’s all try to live a little more like André the giant wished he could have.
Savour every quiet moment, the sound of the birds and the walks other people don’t take.
Do what makes you absolutely happy to breathe every morning. Do what makes your chest pump 5 times harder. Do what makes you weep. No one is happy all the time and every feeling you get is an important one.
So i’m going to be creative. I’m going to finish those novels hiding on hard drives, i’m going to publish those poems, i’ll clown around like i was born to do and i’ll be damned — i’m gonna figure out how to bottle Jacks mind and sell it for profit if everything goes tits in a hand basket.

But i will leave you with this.

“Today could be my last night, tonight could be my last night, it doesnt matter. I just keep going..” André.

So what about you? What should you be doing?
Darling, go do it.


🌱