Wake-up call for short stories

So, I’ve added a new section to my site, called Short stories. And yes, you guessed it. I’ll be publishing my shorter stories in it, just as well as in my regular blog-flow. The point is that if you read something you like and want to read it again or share it with a friend, it’ll be easier to find than if it’s only published in the genereal flow. Where there migh be loads of other things that’s not worth as much of your time. Or perhaps it is, but you know.

If you don’t feel like clicking the menu and switching to short stories, just continue reading and you’ll read the first of my short stories – Waking up…


Waking up…

I wake up in a strange room. I’m certain this isn’t the room I went to sleep in, and it most definitely ain’t home.  The confusion is mind-numbing and I feel a sudden pressure over my chest, making it painful to breathe – as if someone placed a rock on top of me.

Gasping for air I look around, trying to find my bearings. The bed has a cold metal frame and across the room is a wooden desk, a stool and a stuffed chair – in which I see my clothes neatly folded. The walls are bare and only a window with closed blinds break off from the faded yellowish white wallpaper.

I swing my legs out of bed and wince when my feet hit the cold tile floor. I shift my weight and force my muscles to get me upright. My head feels heavy and I get dizzy standing up. I’m dressed in an unfamiliar nightshirt, buttoned all the way in front. It’s soft and feel well used, but I can’t recall where I’ve got it from – I usually sleep naked or in a pair of sweatpants.

Crossing the floor to get dressed in my own clothes, I feel stiff and slow, and my thoughts are muddled. Kind of like syrup, or as if I’ve been on a major drinking binge. Is that it?

Dressed in my own shirt and trousers I open the blinds and look out the window. I’m high up, at least six stories, and down below I spot trees surrounding some kind of open square. Across the square is another tall building, but nothing giving any indication of where the hell I am. I get annoyed by my slow thoughts; it’s like swimming in mud. My fists are clenched around the windowsill and I forcefully take a couple of deep breaths to try and clear some of the frustration and fog out of my head.

Another glance around the room gives me a strange feeling of familiarity, even though I’m sure I’ve never been here before. Shouldn’t there be another bed and a plastic room divider? I cannot tell why there should be, the room is too small for it, but it just feels like it. Concentrating on the room divider I hear the word ‘sex’ ringing somewhere in the deep of my head. No, not sex – six!

Looking around the room now lit by the morning sun, I see an opening leading to some kind of vestibule. On the wall is a ceramic sink with old plumbing and a wooden closet containing my duffel bag and belongings. The vestibule has two ominous gray doors. Grabbing my bag, I chose the left door and find myself in a dimly lit corridor stretching to the left, ending with a window and a lounge set underneath a window, and to the right, ending with a gate of steel and reinforced glass. The gate leading to the stairwell, I somehow remember. Past the lounge set the other way I reckon there’s a caged in balcony with a view of a deserted building next to the railway – I ain’t seen a single train however.

The realization makes me lightheaded again. Why do I know this, how long have I been here?

Halfway down the corridor is an open door, with light sifting out. It looks just like the door I came from, like any other lining the corridor, but it’s the only place I can go. Somehow I know that the other doors are locked. Again, I feel the intense pressure over my chest, and getting closer to the door I feel afraid. I can’t say why.

Through the door I enter an office with two other doors leading to the adjacent rooms. The walls and floor are tiled and two wooden desks support old humming computers. A bearded man in white scrubs sits in front of one of them. He seems surprised when he notices me, and says something in a language I don’t understand. As he stands up he says something else, followed by my name.  How does he know it? Should I know who he is?

My head is spinning by the time he reaches me, and I can’t help but to think that I ought to understand what he’s saying. The language sounds familiar, yet it makes no sense to me; however, his tone is soothing and he actually manages to make me feel safe again. I let him guide me back to the room from which I came. He stuffs my duffel bag back into the closet and proceeds to open the other door in the vestibule. Behind it is a bathroom, and I shake my head in response to what I suppose was a question if I needed the facilities. Instead he shows me back to the bed and waits as I lie down.

“Godnatt,” he says as he leaves the room. To be certain he doesn’t return, I remain on the bed for a few minutes before I get back up to the window.

Nothing new with the view. Yet, there’s something very wrong with this picture….




Random thoughts, writing

About short stories…

Right, I said I was going to focus on writing short stories – you know, to get writing again and increase the number of posts. That worked out well, didn’t it?

It turns out, short stories are a lot of work. A lot! If it’s supposed to be short, there’s no room for descriptions. How do I introduce a character and his background without rambling on and on with explanations? How can I tell how this world works, within only a few lines.

Then there’s the research. Does this actually work the way I think it does? Would someone react this way when facing that problem? Is this plausible?
Sure, I write fantasy, so anything goes, right? Anything can exist, and everything can work however I want it to of course. But is it plausible? Does it seem reasonable within the workings of this world?

Sure is a lot to consider, just as much as for a longer story, but within a word limit…

This is something I’ve never realized before and I now have a much deeper respect for novelists and short story writers. It sure is a craft hard to master – and to be honest, I doubt it’s for me. I tend to make to grand plans and schemes for them to fit in a short story.

So, without breaking to much of my word, I’m currently trying something else. Simply writing a story without explaining to much about how and why something works; just stating that it’s something that does work. We’ll see how that turns out.



Random thoughts, writing

Breaking the silence

Right, so it’s sure been a while since I bothered writing something here. In fact, it’s been a while since I wrote anything at all other than for school or in my journal. Not that it matters I suppose, it’s not that I have any delusions about my poor followers who’s dying to read my new posts or anything. In fact, I don’t think anyone but my fiancé actually noticed that I stopped writing.

However, since my last activity (wich wordpress was quick to remind me was ages ago and only got 6 views) some things have changed.

  • We’ve left our flat to move into our own house instead, yay!
  • We had to let our dog enter the eternal sleep due to cancer (wich still makes me cry)
  • We’ve both moved on to our next term of nursing school
  • I seem to have beaten the worst of my gaming addiction

I don’t know if anyone really cares at all, or if this even is going to be read by someone at all. But it doesn’t matter, this is just an icebreaker. Or silence breaker. To let everyone (or no one) know that I’ll be picking up the pen again (well, not really, keyboard perhaps). And mainly, a way to get myself back into writing again.

I’ve actually been thinking of writing more short stories instead, and lay more of my blog-focus on that. The whole addiction part is rather dull after all, and right now it’s not much to write about. That’s probably why I havn’t written – lack of stuff to process into text.

So anyhow… Hi, I’m back. And there’s probably going to pop up a separate tab or something for short stories shortly.



Random thoughts

Speaking about idols.

An idol is an image or other material object representing a deity to which religious worship is addressed or any person or thing regarded with admiration, adoration, or devotion.


I never really had any idols growing up, nor could I understand the fanatic following of them. Sure, I liked some artists and groups (like Spice Girls – yeah, that’s right, I’m secure enough to admit it) and some authors etcetera, but I couldn’t really idolize them. I liked them, but not more than that. I wasn’t a fan or a real follower. Not like many of my friends, who easily could say who their idol was, no matter if it was an athlete or artist, but everyone had an idol.

It kinda made me feel left out, or the oddball, but I simply didn’t get it.
Until just recently – I finally found my idol, and now I get it. I totally get it.

Mr. Patrick Rothfuss, author of the Kingkiller chronicles, you’re my idol.

Not only is he an amazing writer with a great story (great is really an understatement, but it’s not the point) and a great beard, he’s also a very intelligent and aware man, and seem to be a loving husband and father.

I feel like I can go on and on about how awesome he is, but honestly, I think it’s better that you just see for yourself: check this blogpost out for example.

To sum it up if you don’t want to read it (but you should), he’s the founder of Worldbuilders, a charity group who through their annual fundraiser donate huge sums of money to different projects that, simply put, build a better world (through helping poor villages with food and water supply and much more). Not only does Mr. Rothfuss dedicate alot of his time to this group, he also donates alot of money. For one day, he vows to match all donations up to a total of 100 000$ (see the blog post for details).

100 000$. Honestly, how great isn’t that?

And this is where I realised I actually have found a idol. I want to be like him. I want to improve my own writing, I want to reach out to people, I want people to follow me – only so I can follow in Rothfuss’ footsteps and make a difference. A difference by getting charity work funded.
Not because I want to be famous, I much rather want to stay unknown to actually be left in peace. But if that’s what it takes to make a difference, I’d gladly withstand the hassle.

So, if you’re anything like me and want to help build a better world, read more about Worldbuilders and make a donation over here.

If you’re not into a pure donation from the good of your heart (even though there’s a chance of winning goods in their lottery), you can also check out their store with all kinds of geeky goods for sale, wich also goes straight to charity. How awesome is that?
So head over here and build a better world by increasing your geeky collection!


Random thoughts

Time, and the lack there of.

Yeah, so it turns out there’s not enough hours a day to keep writing about your addiction, getting in shape, spending time with your fiancée, reading books, watching movies, beating your addiction, writing a book AND study to become a nurse. Atleast not for me, it’s already rough enough to beat the addiction, I don’t need to feel stressed about running a blog about it as well – or any of the other things either.

So for the time being, I’m going to try and relax a bit more and focus on my studies and health. When I feel that I have energy to spare and something to say, I’ll still update (I already have a few subjects pending, but they’re just not finished yet).

Some of the nursing litterature. (Own photo)

Let me know if you have any tips about great articles to read, or if you want me to actually discuss something.

Until later.


My Story

My story: Bargaining

I’ve had a rough couple of days – or rather a week – where I’ve had a really big urge to pick up gaming again. It’s been itching, and my mind has just been begging for me to spend an evening by the computer with Diablo 3, or WoW. Or atleast play just for an hour or so. You know, just take a “shot” of gaming and then let it be. It can’t be that harmful, right?

It’s not that bad if you’re a gamer, as long as you keep it in check. We can control it this time, we’re aware. Only play on thursdays? Come on, atleast this once…

Yeah, I know. It’d be a terrible idea, so I’ve not done it. But it’s been close…

The urge has been so great that the gaming daemons (voices, sprites, thoughts – whatever), have tried to bargain with me, to make a deal. Again, just to clarify: I don’t hear actual voices. It’s my thoughts that just change their usual pattern, there’s a clear difference to how I normally reason. I found myself thinking that it might not be so bad with one evening of gaming. As long as I’d prepared everything for school and didn’t risk falling behind in my group assignment, it would be ok. And then I could disconnect the PC to reduce the risk of playing more – or even stay a few nights at my parents instead. It ought to be ok…

We’ll keep it in check, honestly…

I thought about that for a long while, before I could snap out of it and realise what a terrible idea it was. So no worries, I told the demons to shut up, it’s a bad idea, and that was it. For about 10 minutes…

The demons found other ways of trying to convince me; they said it would be fine if I also took care of all the house chores before I played. Do the dishes, vacuuming, dusting etc. Everything that needs to be done this week, I can easily take care of that on beforehand so I can play with a clean consciousness. They actually convinced me for a while, and wanted me to go to missus to make the deal. Wich, in itself, is actually something positive – even though I submitted to the urge, I was strong enough to realise I need her consent before deciding anything.

And when I actually went to her to bargain, I just felt stupid. I mean, come on, I’m not a teenager who can bargain for gaming time with mom. I’m an adult, it’s my own choice; and the choice is to quit gaming, not grovel in the dust and beg for gaming.

This thought was the one that actually saved me this time. Instead of going to missus to bargain for a deal where I got to play, I went to her and talked about how I felt and how much I wanted to play – to the length that I was just about to start begging for it… And after that, after explaining how hard it was right now, how I felt, the urge actually eased up. Sure, I still want to play, it’s been a big hobby and I liked it. But it went away to the degree that I can withstand it again, just by talking about it. It helps – atleast for now.

After this I’ve been mentally spent. It literally is a battle to keep the demons at bay, no question about it. I’ve not even been able to write about it because I’ve been so spent these days. But it does get easier. Just as with any other training and excercising, you do get stronger, it does get easier. It’s just to hang in there.

img src: http://belsebuub.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/shutterstock_92366884_resizecrop3x4-300×224.jpg


My Story

The itch

The scariest part of fighting my addiction is probably the fact that I actually get physical symptoms as well. It’s not just my mind that bugs me, and the “voices” trying to convince me that I should pick up a game. I also get this weird itching feeling. But not quite an itch either – those you can scratch and then it’s usually fine. This is something else…

You know that feeling you have when you’re restless and can’t sit still, when it kind of crawls under your skin and you just need to stretch your legs, flex your muscles or simply go for a run. That feeling you get when you’ve spent most day in front of the tv or simply have to much energy left. The restless legs.

That’s the feeling I get when I think about gaming or the abstinence sets in.  Only I don’t get restless legs – I get this feeling in my neck and shoulders. This itching, restless feeling just under my skin. Sometimes just enough to make my whole neck feel numb.

And this honestly scares me. This is how addicted I am to gaming, to the level of physical symptoms that I barely can describe or explain – nor understand.
Being a big fan of fantasy and mystery, I’ve kind of played around with the thought that this is the place where the voices, the gaming demons, have chosen to nest. Mind you, that I’m only playing with the thought, I don’t actually believe in demons… But one can surely understand why people did back in the days.


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Please excuse any typos, they’re likely because of autocorrect.