A Dream Void of Taste, Feel, or Smell

I had a dream last night. A frightening dream. It was nighttime and the earth was scorched. I stood on a hill, at a ledge with a view of the horizon; although it was too dark to see anything clearly. At the corner of my eye, a man watched me with a vacant expression, or perhaps it was a woman? She was sitting on a rough looking bike, something out of a Mad Max movie.

As I was staring at this person I saw two glowing eyes shining behind her in the distance. There was a dark silhouette underneath the eyes, like a large robotic body taller than any building I had ever seen.

There was also, no smell, no taste, no feel – only emotion. Like it usually is when I dream. And my emotion was utter despair, for the eyes turned towards me and with an ominous humming sound, a bright yellow beam went towards me, creating an ark so that it destroyed anything around me.

I hid behind a boulder but the laser pierced parts of it and burned my ankles. Again, I didn’t feel any pain. Only fear. The person on the bike seemed unaffected by the beam as she kept staring vacantly at me. I crouched on the ground and pressed my hands against my head and reverberated: Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.

And so I opened my eyes, lying in bed with drool on my pillow. But somehow, my heart was not racing as if I knew that it was a dream all along, and something I knew I could escape from.

This is actually a true story. It is remarkable when you can remember your dream so clearly even now, several days afterwards. What was even more remarkable was the level of control I had. I really did consciously make a decision to wake up, and then I did. I guess that is what you call a lucid dream.

Also, please check out my new short story series here

Western Courtesy – Very Short Story 

The music and the motions of the violinist mesmerised him. The beauty and the skill in creating those notes were unmistaken. It formed the perfect atmosphere for the purpose of the party. He glanced around, finding people in fancy suits and pretty dresses that mingled amongst themselves; bowing politely as they discovered the prestige and wealth their conversation partners.

He had never understood this overly polite culture, where a person became someone’s better by having more money and power than the other, and should be revered and respected beyond common courtesy.

He did enjoy Japan, however, that was not the problem. It was his job, and the things he was expected to achieve. The brutal hours; the hierarchy; and the almost total lack of free time, made the generous salary less attractive the longer he stayed. It sucked the life out of him.

Continue reading “Western Courtesy – Very Short Story “

A Lord Hated – Very Short Story 

Fame lent him no comfort as he sat in his study, watching the mob on the other side. Only a wall prevented them from amassing on his property. As he watched, he felt like a lord, a lord hated, and protected by the provision of god; for he is not like anyone else. He holds a power that no one else does… they will soon be aware.

A smile grew on his face as he reached down the drawer. The glow surrounded his hand and engulfed the object. But he knew what it was, and he knew that it would lead him to his destiny.


Haunted by the Ghosts of Stories Untold

For as long as I can remember I had trouble staying quiet at night, I screamed, I swore, and I shouted. I also sleepwalked, often aimlessly before I realised what I was doing. Sometimes I even physically tried to ward off enemies, punch them and/or take cover.

Whenever that happened my heart was pounding, I was genuinely scared, and took several minutes before my mind was able to collect itself and realise how preposterous it would be that an assassin  is out to kill me. For a while I considered that I had post traumatic stress disorder.

This went on for many years. However, I was calm and collected when I was awake. Perhaps I had anger issues that I suppressed?

In anycase that suddenly changed when I began writing and I believe I know why. People like us who always think, always dream, play out scenarios in our heads daily (some violent and some not so much); these thoughts gets stored in our subconsciousness and when we sleep they sprout out and grabs a hold of us!

I believe that that is why some people have restless nights. But when we begin to write those thoughts down, we receive an outlet. Think about it, when we write down our ideas on paper we can basically throw that idea out of our mind because it is stored somewhere other than in our head. Thus, our brains only has to format the mundane events that happens during everyday life, and presto! the nights are calm again.

Blissfully Unconcerned with the Future

All of us wonder what their place in the world is, what we need to become to be considered a member of society. I never had those thoughts, at least not until very late in my life. I lived a blissful life where I studied for interest, not towards a goal of becoming… somebody. I was already somebody, I was me. But then I realised that I had to become a version of me that was accepted by society.

I lived this blissful life until my last year in my master’s studies. And when the inevitable realisation came, that I had to prepare for my future, I panicked. What am I good at? what could I possibly do for a living while pursuing my passion? Do I even have a passion?

I went many sleepless night thinking about these questions , and at the time, I never really found an answer. What I should have realised back then was that my future was already decided in the off set. I enjoy solitude, I am weird, I come up with ideas, I day dream; yet becoming a writer never even crossed my mind, not as a serious profession at least.

It wasn’t until the very last semester, when me and my classmates were finishing up our thesis that it hit me. I love being creative, I love starting a projects, to have 100% creative freedom, and the satisfaction in finishing said project. And that was it really.

I should have probably consider my future a lot earlier, then I might have been a better writer by now. But then again, I wouldn’t have had this blissful past to reminisce on, I already had my fun, now is the time to get serious, and create.

What it comes down to, I think, is to always challenge yourself. Don’t be satisfied with the status quo and always try to learn new things, eventually you will find what you are good at.

Who’s the Bad Guy? – Very Short Story 

Another short story written from the depths of my subconscious. Enjoy!

Light flashed between the tall buildings from the morning sun, blinding him until he knelt down by the cover of a car; his bones began to ache immediately and he grunted uncomfortably.

“Searge!” a man shouted from a distance. He ignore the man and just stared at what was lying down in front of him. As a crime investigator he sees these kind sights on a daily basis, yet, this particular one made his heart skipp a beat, and he didn’t know why.

Feeling dizzy from standing up he leans on the grill of the car next to him. The young man that was shouting at him from before stood respectfully, yet impatiently at a few meter away. A part of him found enjoyment in keeping rookies like him on their toes, especially good looking ones such as him.

Beautiful people always has it easier, yet it doesn’t prevent them from dying, he thinks as he glances at a body to his left. Being the bad guy also provide the rookies with a common enemy, helps them to cooperate. A role that he is happy to provide.

“What is it James?” He finally said.

James hurried across the evidence site and skipped between the dead bodies and weapons laying around. Despite the morbid scene he cracked a smile. As James arrived in front of him he said. “From Isabelle sir, she says it’s urgent,” while handing him a note.

He opened it nonchalantly while looking at James disturbed face. “This is quite the scene, isn’t it? your first crime scene if I remember correctly?”

James’s eyes flickered between him and the note before he finally noded in response. He raised an eyebrow and as he readed the note the cigarette in his mouth dropped to the ground. However, James is quick to grab it, as if he was prepared to. With an open Jaw he stared at the note. The dizziness returned but he forced himself not to lean against anything, instead he kicked a body on the ground and wobbled out into an alley on the opposite side. He breathe heavily while leaning against a brick wall.

After some respite an evil smile soon formed along his face. While crumpling the note he said. “Things just got interesting.”



Land of Dreams – Very Short Story 

Yet another short story has been spawned from the depths of my subconscious. I hope that you will enjoy.

From the cauldron the beast kept rising, like a dragon spawning from the underworld. With all his strength he held tightly around its neck, trying to prevent its continued rise. As the gap of the cauldron began to expand, releasing even more of the beasts giant body, he realised the futility in his struggle and released the creature from his grip. With a dash he ran into what started as a void, but then arose into a land that he did not recognise. 

There were great forests and mountains, castles and lakes. As he stared into the unknown, the beast’s long neck crawled under his legs and its face rose in front of him. The beast opened its large jaws and presented the teeth inside. In a quick and terrified motion he tried to push the beast away. But with the simple push, he lost his gripping and instead fell into the ever expanding gap of the cauldron.

His voice echoed in the darkness as he fell, forever it seemed. With a loud thump he landed on his back and, to his surprise, a blanked wrapped around his body, and a bed next to him. Despite this realisation, fear still dwelled in his heart and it refused to settle down. Through the window the moon illuminated parts of the room. He stared at the light source, the only one available, until his breathing finally slowed; he drew a sigh of relief. 

He returns to his bed, however still skeptical that he is safe, he glances at the darkness in the corner of his room, that the moon fail to illuminate. But as exhaustion overcame him he is send back, into the land which he was expelled from, to the land of dreams.

Funny Looking on the Inside – Very Short Story 

Okay so writing regular posts wasn’t as easy as I expected, at least for the original purpose that I had for the blog. So I figured, why don’t I write short stories instead? you know, try to entertain! Because lets face it, nobody cares about my process and thoughts about writing when you haven’t published anything yet.

This will be a mini NanoWrimo where I start with a blank page and write whatever comes to mind. The only rule is that I am not allowed to write more than 500 words. So here it goes;

People used to always say that I was funny looking, something about my nose and the distance between my eyes. But as time went by, these comments became less and less common until they completely disappeared. I don’t know what happened in the time in between but it was great!

People began paying attention to what I said, taking me seriously. Even girls that I fancied didn’t, at the very least, ignore me, and would sometimes even respond and give me a friendly hello back. People say that it is what’s on the inside that counts. That may be true and all, but what good is a fine story if nobody reads it? That the outside counts just as much as the inside, is what I recon.

The question is, am I a good story or just a fancy book cover? I’ve done a few, downright despicable things in my life, and heavens forbid if they are ever found out. But it is not like I have killed anyone or anything, or stolen something for that matter. But… you now, we all make mistakes, don’t we?


Evil Antagonist

While writing a very early draft of the book I realised that I have used the most heinous fantasy trope of all! The antagonist is evil for the sake of being evil… When writing a story you use inspirations from things that you have already read or watched, intentionally or not. That is why I believe when you write a story you really need to understand what you write. Where did this idea come from? Where have you heard this before? It is not wrong by any means because artists steal from each others ideas all the time. But to be successful there must be some measure of creativity to survive as a writer. The easiest way to do this is by identifying the common tropes and try to avoid them.

I decided to keep the antagonist but I wanted to make him more deep. The question that I want the readers to ask, when they are introduced to the villain is, is his actions really evil? Actually, the villain will be introduced very late in the book. The protagonist will have no idea of the identity, or if there is one main villain at all until very late in the story. The only thing the main character knows is that his quest is important. But it is never completely obvious why, or whats at stake. I think this opens up some interesting ways to make the main character doubt his own worth or doubt the journey as a whole.

Inventing new myths

For all intents and purposes, I wish that I started this blog sooner. At the time of posting, I will have written 45 000 words already. My original intent was that to take you, the reader, along during the creative process of the book. However, just because I have written a certain amount of words, does not mean that I am anywhere near finished with the project. There are still around 20 000 more words that need to be written, and editing will most certainly take as much time as writing the first draft. Anyway, I am going to post these diary entries of the struggles that I had early on, in the order that I remember them. I hope that you will find these helpful when you decide to start a project of your own.

I love fantasy! but I don´t love everything about it. Even though Tolkien´s work, by todays standards, can feel generic, his work is still timeless because even though the books take place in a fantastical world. It was still rooted in reality. For instance, Mordor and Sauron was not generically evil like in the movie, they did not aim to destroy the world but rather conquer it. Orcs need food and other resources as well after all. Simply put, there is one power that desired to expand its territory. Another thing that I respect about the LoTRs books is that magic was always subtle, they was never put at the forefront of the tale. I would like to say that it was also never used in a cheap way to get out of trouble, but we all know about the giant plot hole with the eagles by now. But I am sure there was a reason that they could not use them from the start haha.

Anyway, that is the goal of my book, to be subtle, to be grounded, but still have a fantastical feel, and at the same time be original and not use dragons, orcs and elves. Because, lets face it, they have been done to death! When you think about mythology used in the fantasy genre, real life myths is used as inspiration. Goblins, orcs and elves all stem from Nordic mythology. But, has there been any new invented mythos that are not heavily inspired by real religions and myths? Probably not. Modern myths are instead created by the sci fi genre, which is fitting for our time really. Space is the new mysterious place that we know very little about.

When people created myths in the past, it was mostly to make sense of the unknown. What was lurking in the thick forest? who lived on top of the tall mountains and deep caverns? It is fascinating to to think about. I don´t aspire to reinvent the fantasy genre, but I still aim to, at the very least, be original.