A while back, my debut novel was published. It is a modern fantasy about the classical old story, good vs. evil.
Michael Smith feels the world is completely wrong, and his strange dreams take him to Santorini where his adventures start.
He is fighting for the existence of creativity...at a great cost.
Publishing a novel in this time and age can seem close to impossible. And to be successful, you have to be determined and have so much patience you qualify to sainthood by the time you get your book in a consultant's hands. The most normal thing is getting a polite rejection.
I was connected to one of the biggest publishing houses in Norway for a long, long time, sending them scripts, getting them back with suggestions of what to change. But in Norway, the biggest deal are murder mysteries, and I write fantasy, so I kind of fell through (this is the story I tell myself to feel better, at least.).
In the end they told me that fantasy weren't really their thing, and I should look for representation elsewhere. I had learned a lot about the business, but not nearly enough, and I still was unrepresented. So, I felt quite lost. They had kept me on a lose leash for years and years, vague promises about a possible future release if this or that, and I believed them. I could have spent my time reaching out to agents, or other publishing houses, but I remained loyal.
My brother told me to look around for other alternatives, but the woman in charge of the writer's course I took, said I had to be loyal to one publishing house at the time. Both made sense, and both very difficult to follow.
What happened was that I just kept writing and writing. I never felt what other authors talk about, that dreaded writer's block, I still haven't met that phenomenon, but I have felt frustrated for having a million ideas, that I actually follow from beginning to finished story, and no one to share it with.
And when I tried sending them to publishing houses, no one wants them, because they weren't represented by an agent. So I felt lost in a spiral of creativity and no chances. Most publishing houses wants the scripts to be represented by agents, and that means another person, along with the publisher, takes a piece of the cake. Obviously, people have to be paid for doing a job, but as a struggling author, you feel it's an unfair business when you're out in the cold. But there is a solution... and it is what I did :)
Then, I guess I got lucky. One of my best friends live in Holland, and she said, I know this guy who is starting up a publishing house, do you want me to ask him if he wants your script? I said yes, of course, and waited his reply.
He wanted to have a look at my script about Michael Smith and his journey with the muses. I was seriously nervous, I sent him the original document, and in hindsight I might have been a bit naive doing that to someone I didn't really know or knew if I could trust. But I did, and it turned out that he, Rob, my editor, was for real.
He suggested a few changes, and if I managed to write in those changes then I would have a deal.
OMG, I was going to publish my debut novel.
Then suddenly I was on the inside, with a contract I only could have dreamed of. I have had to learn this with my publisher, as they are new to this as well, but we are getting there.
I am a fiery person, and sometimes I'm probably not the easiest client to deal with, but they can, and they do. So I would like to take this opportunity to thank them for putting up with me, and most important of all, believing in me when no one else did. I won't let you down. And I won't let me down!
If you like fantasy, if you like Shakespeare, England, adventure and dragons, then this is the book you should buy for your summer holiday. :)
And if you have a novel in you, contact Bullseye, they might be the ones to help you further on your way to reaching your goals.
http://www.bullseyeshop.nl/c-2490001/roman/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Bullseye-publishing/223740621106839?fref=ts
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Marbles
A couple of weeks ago I was in the lovely (it actually is a nice little city) Wolverhampton to attend the second of two Marillion weekends this year.
I must admit that I thought nothing could top what I was a part of in Holland, but as usual Marillion proves me wrong time and again. The Friday night was amazing, and my favourite song, This Strange Engine, was breathtaking. And the Sunday night, when we chose to stay in the back with our somewhat taller friends, we ended up having a blast. The Civic is smaller than the tent in PZ (Holland), so we had a decent view. Minds and hearts buzzing from
Now, my partner and I had high hopes for Saturday night, as we missed the first part of this particular concert in Holland, stuck behind all the tall Dutch people...they sure are tall...And after this rather disappointing Marbles night, we were really looking forward to the UK one. We went early, and stood at the front. We had the option of getting seats, and I'm pretty sure my heels would have loved that, but my mind decided that my eyes likes to see the expression in the band's faces when they perform, so we let pain be pain, and prepared for sounds and the magnificent lights, and the out of this world music.
The Invisible Man was not just the first song on Marbles, and also on the concert, it was so much more. I have never heard or seen that piece of music been performed to perfection like that before. It was like being in a Shakespearean Theatre watching a play. And it was perfection in a way where strong emotions and musical brilliance danced an exotic dance.
I love Marbles, the entire album. I love every single song, even the ones that many think a bit odd. I love the fact that it's based on Peter Pan, I love the fact that it plays with words and chords, I love the fact that it holds duality, complexity, simplicity, it's possible to interpret on high academic levels (and I have...and will continue to), and I love that I was there with the love of my soul enjoying it.
For me, however, The Only Unforgivable Thing was the song I really looked forward to.
And then it started, the song I had waited for...probably being all weird and strange for having waited for that, and not The Invisible Man, or Fantastic Place, or even Neverland.
But this song is something else. It resonates on a deeper level with me, and it has since the first time I ever heard it.
The man I love held his strong arms around me most of the concert, and being there with him was such an honour. He's warm when I am cold, and cool when I freak out, and reads me better than anyone ever did. He just wouldn't let go when the song came...and I'm glad he didn't, I think I would have fallen if he did.
At first I was just looking at the band, singing along, feeling the normal Marillion magic...but then something took over, and I shut up, and suddenly it was only me and the band there. I could still feel the strong arms around me, but I seriously spaced out...on music. I could feel I almost stopped breathing, but I was, and along with the air, what filled my body was the etheric notes and words of this sapphire of a song.
I had conflicting emotions within. This is music that should be taken to all corners of the world, to heal all that is broken, inspire world leaders to do better. But then again, it's music that should be (and is) only mine, as it is so personal (People who have read Leo's book about fans will know exactly how personal), Marillion's music is my precious.
I wasn't singing along anymore, I couldn't. It wasn't just a song to which I knew the words and could sing along...it was a whisper that echoed through time, it was power, it was amazing.
I then, still alone with the band, I felt deeper thoughts beginning to rush through my mind, thoughts of how I was part of something that was on the outside of life's mundane and generic routine. How I felt blessed with senses able to perceive these high emotions...and when the song came to its end, my tears were running, but not because I was sad. They were running because I was happy. And that happiness just kept going long after the song ended. In moments like that I feel I'm reaching out of society's thoughts of reality, I feel I'm reaching out and touching an eternity with answers and truths; truths only visible through the magic of music...
I was there for the rest of the concert, but sometimes the mind has enough, and for me this was it x
Thank you, Marillion, for gracing the world with your fantasy music. It truly is epic and mind blowing. My life is richer from your inspiration and musical journeys. It is an absolute honour to be at your concerts.
xxx
I am adding here a little paragraph from my book, The Tenth Muse, where The Only Unforgivable Thing is described through the ears of a person who has been blinded and captured by the evil forces...
I think this song has an amazing duality and it is almost a novel in its complexity, and almost naive in its simplicity...
"A soft sound started almost like a whisper, it came from the room, and it came from everywhere, it came from him, and it came from her. It was a beautiful sound that just kept on filling her soul, her mind and her entire being. She knew that was what she had been looking for in all the shops and all the people she had met in the past. This feeling of just being and listening and escaping. She felt she could let go of all the fear that had surrounded her lately. The sound was mesmerizing. And then came something that sounded like a heartbeat. She could feel it pound in her body like a strange engine. Was it her heart? Could her heart possibly sound on the outside of her body like this, as if it was coming from the universe itself? No, this was something bigger, but her heart found the same rhythm. The beating heart was mixing together with the beautiful sound from before. And for a blissful moment that lasted forever, she could feel her broken body start to fight for life. Two more elements sounded in the room, and their sound echoed everywhere, and each one of them made perfect sense. It was like a happy marriage of sounds. One sharper, stringy sound, resonating in her mind as a dichotomy to the heartbeat, making her want to open her eyes and see what could possibly produce the sounds that were making her ears and her soul feel more alive than ever before. Seconds later she heard a similar sound. Only this sound was deeper, as a mix of the heartbeat and the sharp stringy sound. She could feel that every single thing she heard right now just had to be there to make the other sounds make complete sense. And she could feel they were building up to something. Something that filled her with the most blissful anticipation she had ever felt, and yet she was nervous, because she knew it would change her. She knew that what was coming would heal her, that she would get her life back, and that she would find a truth not many people had yet. And there it was, a voice. It was soft and sharp, deep and high…It was the voice of the earth and sky, it was the voice of light. It could shake the foundations of the highest mountain, and it could bend the biggest trees like the forces from a storm. It was the voice that knew all the secrets, and at the same time it explored all the wonders of the world, searching for answers to new riddles, new questions that hadn’t even been asked yet. The words he sang reached inwards in her broken body and made the evil evaporate into his oblivion. Whatever he decided became the truth, and she would never ever doubt that fact for as long as she lived. " *
Read more here: http://www.bullseyeshop.nl/c-2490001/roman/
* The Tenth Muse, Silje Haarr, published by Bullseye Publishing 2014.
Thank you to Phil Slessor, the amazing photographer, for finding an image from The Only Unforgivable Thing on Saturday in Wolverhampton.
I must admit that I thought nothing could top what I was a part of in Holland, but as usual Marillion proves me wrong time and again. The Friday night was amazing, and my favourite song, This Strange Engine, was breathtaking. And the Sunday night, when we chose to stay in the back with our somewhat taller friends, we ended up having a blast. The Civic is smaller than the tent in PZ (Holland), so we had a decent view. Minds and hearts buzzing from
Now, my partner and I had high hopes for Saturday night, as we missed the first part of this particular concert in Holland, stuck behind all the tall Dutch people...they sure are tall...And after this rather disappointing Marbles night, we were really looking forward to the UK one. We went early, and stood at the front. We had the option of getting seats, and I'm pretty sure my heels would have loved that, but my mind decided that my eyes likes to see the expression in the band's faces when they perform, so we let pain be pain, and prepared for sounds and the magnificent lights, and the out of this world music.
The Invisible Man was not just the first song on Marbles, and also on the concert, it was so much more. I have never heard or seen that piece of music been performed to perfection like that before. It was like being in a Shakespearean Theatre watching a play. And it was perfection in a way where strong emotions and musical brilliance danced an exotic dance.
I love Marbles, the entire album. I love every single song, even the ones that many think a bit odd. I love the fact that it's based on Peter Pan, I love the fact that it plays with words and chords, I love the fact that it holds duality, complexity, simplicity, it's possible to interpret on high academic levels (and I have...and will continue to), and I love that I was there with the love of my soul enjoying it.
For me, however, The Only Unforgivable Thing was the song I really looked forward to.
And then it started, the song I had waited for...probably being all weird and strange for having waited for that, and not The Invisible Man, or Fantastic Place, or even Neverland.
But this song is something else. It resonates on a deeper level with me, and it has since the first time I ever heard it.
The man I love held his strong arms around me most of the concert, and being there with him was such an honour. He's warm when I am cold, and cool when I freak out, and reads me better than anyone ever did. He just wouldn't let go when the song came...and I'm glad he didn't, I think I would have fallen if he did.
At first I was just looking at the band, singing along, feeling the normal Marillion magic...but then something took over, and I shut up, and suddenly it was only me and the band there. I could still feel the strong arms around me, but I seriously spaced out...on music. I could feel I almost stopped breathing, but I was, and along with the air, what filled my body was the etheric notes and words of this sapphire of a song.
I had conflicting emotions within. This is music that should be taken to all corners of the world, to heal all that is broken, inspire world leaders to do better. But then again, it's music that should be (and is) only mine, as it is so personal (People who have read Leo's book about fans will know exactly how personal), Marillion's music is my precious.
I wasn't singing along anymore, I couldn't. It wasn't just a song to which I knew the words and could sing along...it was a whisper that echoed through time, it was power, it was amazing.
I then, still alone with the band, I felt deeper thoughts beginning to rush through my mind, thoughts of how I was part of something that was on the outside of life's mundane and generic routine. How I felt blessed with senses able to perceive these high emotions...and when the song came to its end, my tears were running, but not because I was sad. They were running because I was happy. And that happiness just kept going long after the song ended. In moments like that I feel I'm reaching out of society's thoughts of reality, I feel I'm reaching out and touching an eternity with answers and truths; truths only visible through the magic of music...
I was there for the rest of the concert, but sometimes the mind has enough, and for me this was it x
Thank you, Marillion, for gracing the world with your fantasy music. It truly is epic and mind blowing. My life is richer from your inspiration and musical journeys. It is an absolute honour to be at your concerts.
xxx
I am adding here a little paragraph from my book, The Tenth Muse, where The Only Unforgivable Thing is described through the ears of a person who has been blinded and captured by the evil forces...
I think this song has an amazing duality and it is almost a novel in its complexity, and almost naive in its simplicity...
"A soft sound started almost like a whisper, it came from the room, and it came from everywhere, it came from him, and it came from her. It was a beautiful sound that just kept on filling her soul, her mind and her entire being. She knew that was what she had been looking for in all the shops and all the people she had met in the past. This feeling of just being and listening and escaping. She felt she could let go of all the fear that had surrounded her lately. The sound was mesmerizing. And then came something that sounded like a heartbeat. She could feel it pound in her body like a strange engine. Was it her heart? Could her heart possibly sound on the outside of her body like this, as if it was coming from the universe itself? No, this was something bigger, but her heart found the same rhythm. The beating heart was mixing together with the beautiful sound from before. And for a blissful moment that lasted forever, she could feel her broken body start to fight for life. Two more elements sounded in the room, and their sound echoed everywhere, and each one of them made perfect sense. It was like a happy marriage of sounds. One sharper, stringy sound, resonating in her mind as a dichotomy to the heartbeat, making her want to open her eyes and see what could possibly produce the sounds that were making her ears and her soul feel more alive than ever before. Seconds later she heard a similar sound. Only this sound was deeper, as a mix of the heartbeat and the sharp stringy sound. She could feel that every single thing she heard right now just had to be there to make the other sounds make complete sense. And she could feel they were building up to something. Something that filled her with the most blissful anticipation she had ever felt, and yet she was nervous, because she knew it would change her. She knew that what was coming would heal her, that she would get her life back, and that she would find a truth not many people had yet. And there it was, a voice. It was soft and sharp, deep and high…It was the voice of the earth and sky, it was the voice of light. It could shake the foundations of the highest mountain, and it could bend the biggest trees like the forces from a storm. It was the voice that knew all the secrets, and at the same time it explored all the wonders of the world, searching for answers to new riddles, new questions that hadn’t even been asked yet. The words he sang reached inwards in her broken body and made the evil evaporate into his oblivion. Whatever he decided became the truth, and she would never ever doubt that fact for as long as she lived. " *
Read more here: http://www.bullseyeshop.nl/c-2490001/roman/
* The Tenth Muse, Silje Haarr, published by Bullseye Publishing 2014.
Thank you to Phil Slessor, the amazing photographer, for finding an image from The Only Unforgivable Thing on Saturday in Wolverhampton.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Marillion Weekend in Port Zelande, 2015
Marillion weekend in Port Zelande, 2015
How in the world do you put in words the
feelings a weekend of so much more than normal rock concerts set in motion? It
is a close to impossible task. Sitting at Schiphol airport with Marbles on my
ears, I have a caramel frappe (a Dutch creative version of my name on the
glass), and five hours to kill, so I might as well give it a go.
Marillion have followed me through many
hard times during the last year and a half, so to come to Port Zelande with a
smile in my suitcase, my heart on my sleeve, and my soul’s twin holding his
arms around me, was just amazing; I was pretty excited to experience the dense
emotional dance the weekend is said to be. In hindsight, I understand now, and
feel completely in awe, both over the people making the whole arrangement
possible, and over Marillion who clearly and without a doubt seem to enjoy
themselves so much. Amazing.
So there we
were, in chalet 738, the cake chalet; we made the beds, said a quick hello and had
a quick beer in the chalet, before we were off. We had 17,5 tokens in our
pockets; the first night could begin.
For a non-Marillion fan, it might be hard
to understand the dynamics within a group like this. We are like a big family.
But I got a strange image in my head whenever we walked from our chalets to the
gig tent, that we were like zombies, or like aliens being called home to the
mother ship…when 3000 people move in the same direction, almost at the same
time (apart from the hard core fans who queue up for hours in the freezing
March air, obviously), it might look a bit religious…but honestly, I don’t
care.
For us it really is like being called home.
For us it really is like being called home.
We
made sure we were there for Steven Rothery and his instrumental support act to
the main event. He even spoke up, and that was very nice to both see and hear.
He should do that more often in Marillion as well. I am not particularly a
guitar connesseur, but even I get that it’s good stuff, and I really enjoyed
listening to the floating, swaying, almost dreaming music that let the mind
wander.
We
found a brilliant little place in the front on the left side, and we stood
there with our friends. Bring on Anoraknophobia. This was one of the first h-era
albums I got to know, so this was a big deal for me. I think I used the term
‘musical orgasm’ for when I heard The
Fruit Of The Wild Rose for the first time, when it changes from straight up
blues to keyboard magic; and the gig confirmed my theory, it is a song that
gives a musical orgasm.
This Is The 21st Century always blew my mind away, and standing in the gig with my other
half’s strong arms around me, knowing that it’s him and me, makes that song
particularly powerful. I would sing along, in the same theatrical manner as h
on Separated Out, and I certainly
did. ‘Am I enough of a freak to be worth paying to see?’ Between You And Me was the closing number on the first gig I ever
went to, so that is always special for me…I still see music in the sky, and I certainly have A Map Of The World… And I have no number of how many times I have
had to endure my brother’s monologues of how much better clockwork is to quarts,
and how you want clockwork, and not Quarts…Obviously
I thought about that during this song as well. If My Heart Were A Ball is just amazing. The only ones who could
turn a lovesong into a scary song are Marillion. But When I Meet God made my other half break down in tears, completely,
and he said so beautifully, ‘it’s one of those moments when things can no
longer stay on the inside.’ A beautiful man with a beautiful soul, I will
gladly kiss away his tears when the music of our souls moves him.
They did the album in a playing order, so me breaking this up for this blog, is purely for dramatic reasons. They played it from Between You And Me to If My Heart Were A Ball. But then, the encores….
They did the album in a playing order, so me breaking this up for this blog, is purely for dramatic reasons. They played it from Between You And Me to If My Heart Were A Ball. But then, the encores….
Both Trevor and I have had a rough year and a half, we both lost
partners on each our side, and found each other in grief…and when grief turned
to love, we found our home, so even though we are happy, we are still in a
rather emotional place. My feel good song, the song I put on repeat to balance
out the hard days is This Strange Engine;
I normally update Facebook with ‘TSE
on repeat’ on those occasions, so when h brought his cricket bat (it is a
cricket bat, right? Well, you know the one…), it was my turn to break down, and
boy did I break down. I even missed h standing right in front of me (I
mentioned I was in front row…). I got hugs from my friends the next day as they
had seen me totally lose it. The thing is, all of us cried, but it took ‘There
was a boy who came into this world…’ and I was completely crushed. I didn’t
need it on repeat, because as far as I’m concerned, it was the best I have ever
heard TSE. H’s voice was on fire, he
reached the horizon and everything, and it was just musical bliss, musical
genius, musical magic… And for me it was cathartic. I was emotionally drained
after TSE, I couldn’t cope with
anything else, so when they started up Gaza
and finished with 3 Minute Boy, I
was almost catatonic, as TSE will
follow me for weeks… For me, personally, that version of that song was worth
the whole weekend…
After the gig we went over to the market
dome to listen to Stephanie’s specially selected prog rock songs, and we were
not disappointed. Genesis, Pink Floyd, Rush, more Genesis, and it was just
brilliant. We even danced, though at this point my feet were killing me… so we
found our chalet mates, and got back for a bacon sarnie, a bit more music, and just
enjoyed being with great friends. I had to crawl up the lethal stairs, stairs
for which there should be a safety harness, but in the end I managed to calm
down enough to close my eyes. With the arms of my wonderful man around me, I
found some hours of sleep. But not many, as the first gig was buzzing in my
mind. I still, as I am writing this, feel overwhelmed by the gig on Friday
night. It was a musical master piece.
So, waking up to the Saturday was a day
with expectations. Trevor and I had been picked to go to the signing at three,
and we both felt quite nervous.
Make up on,
check… weird hairdo, check…Vinyl of Marbles and Anoraknophobia, check… and
pens, you know, just in case Lucy and Stephanie hadn’t thought of that… as if
;) I brought one more thing , a fantasy novel that I wrote. It is a fantasy
about creativity, and what our world would be if this was taken away from
humanity. And one of the key characters is loosely based on someone we all
know. So I put my creative visualisation to work, and told Trevor that I’m
going to be the first one in, and I’m going to give h his signed copy of my
book. It really works, people, don’t be afraid to believe in your own
abilities. Now I’ll visualise that he reads it, and hopefully likes it.
I got my Marbles
vinyl signed by all the band members, thank you. And I had a nice little chat
about writing with h. Thank you so much to Stephanie and Lucy for letting us do
this. Even though we were nervous…meeting our heroes and all…it was an
honour.
Ok, as a sort of come down from the emotional and almost spiritual high, we headed over to the Fun Factory for the last
moments of the quiz, and our friends won. How great is that? We now had a clear
mission on Sunday, cheering them on. I must admit, Paul, Adrian, Brett, Neil and
Joanne, that on the Sunday I cheered for the band, I felt a bit sorry for them…
You kicked their butts anyway
The
Swap the band – session, still on Sunday, was just so much fun, and I’m pleased
we forced our feet to have an extra couple of hours standing, jumping,
cheering, as it felt relaxed and awesome. BUT, it was Marillion doing their
Marillion magic, and to miss out on that, would be wrong indeed. Martin totally
rocked the place with his version of Assassin…just
there as a fan…yeah, right…
The same Martin
told us that it would be wise for us to stay in the back for Marbles night, and
we took his advice. The only problem is that we’re both very short (though,
Trevor is taller than me), and people around us seemed to be over two meters tall…a human
wall from a shorter perspective you might say, so we ended up seeing a bit of
light, and nothing else. We didn’t even see the screen with the new beginning
to Invisible Man, so we felt the gig
hadn’t really started. We decided to move to where we were last night, and
managed a bit of a view…but the gig didn’t really start until Fiona Trewavas
and her friends let us in front of them. I even missed out on one of my
favourite songs of all times, The Only
Unforgiveable Thing (I’ll plan ahead, and catch it properly in
Wolverhampton). But after Ocean Cloud, we had a great spot, at the front, to
the left. And the gig could start for us as well. I’m one of the ones who
always thought Angelina was a fantastic song, and that it shows off h’s voice
brilliantly. And I’m pleased to say that live it’s even better.
I think the high
point of Marbles night was the story about how Drilling Holes came into this world. How Marillion didn’t wrote the
book about Alice and her adventures in Wonderland, I’ll never know, because
that was basically it…
Neverland is never
anything but a success, and I must say that as musicians and performers they
impress me. Even though we understood things weren’t quite right…and h had to
run off stage to get ‘his medication’, as he put it, they just played on, and
gave us all an amazing show. King
was Out of This World (see what I
did there?) and Sounds That Can’t Be
Made is a very powerful ending to a powerful show.
After Saturday night, we couldn’t take any
rocking, so we went to bed… And we woke up ready for the final night, a night
we at this point knew nothing about. The theories were many, far fetched, and
full of wishful thinking. But we now know that Chris came the closest with his
singles theory.
All
the wiser from last night, we showed up early, and got amazing spots, much
thanks to Chris again, who kept a place at the front for a short person, and
then we came along. We had a little glass of wine, can’t drink too much, no
time for loo breaks…
They
started off with eight Fish-songs, and the tent could almost take off from the
excitement. I still remember a certain stunt in Wolverhampton two years ago,
during Garden Party, so I wasn’t
sure I dared to look, but they are all fine, and the tent rocked without anyone
falling from the sky...
The
beautiful version of Sympathy was
particularly moving, and again a proof of just how good h’s voice is now (I
know a bit about singing…not to blow my own horn or anything, but I’m
classically trained, and I’ve always been amazed at how great his voice truly
is…my ticket in to the Marillion way of seeing the world, to the better way of
life…). But the best moment for me from Sunday night was when they did A Man Of A Thousand Faces. I had never
heard it live before, and of course it is one of my favourite songs. It was
magic. And this time I didn’t break down like I did when they played TSE on Friday, this time I just felt so
incredibly happy. I am truly blessed to be a part of musical bliss like this.
And when the crowd continued to sing, they started to play again…and the
untrained ear might not have noticed that the crowd had dropped a few notes,
but the band certainly did. This is true musicians, people, they followed us,
and not the other way around. And the ending of the show with Hocus Pocus by Focus, did again confirm
how an amazing singer h is, and just how great his voice was this weekend.
That’s some high notes in there, and they were spot on…(I have a musical
condition called allergy of notes out of pitch). So
like I said in a Facebook update after the signing, cloud nine is in sight from
cloud ten. To say we felt elevated and amazing is an understatement.
We headed, buzzing with post gig joy and smiles, over to the Rockaoke, and just danced our asses off. Felicity has a rather good voice, most of the rockaoke performers had. It was such a blast. H turned up and rocked the rockaoke and did three songs, but by then we had danced over the market place J on to the chill zone in the Marked Dome where we got hugs and kisses from friends form around the world, plus a burger, which was not wrong at all.
We headed, buzzing with post gig joy and smiles, over to the Rockaoke, and just danced our asses off. Felicity has a rather good voice, most of the rockaoke performers had. It was such a blast. H turned up and rocked the rockaoke and did three songs, but by then we had danced over the market place J on to the chill zone in the Marked Dome where we got hugs and kisses from friends form around the world, plus a burger, which was not wrong at all.
So, how in the world do you put in words the
feelings a weekend of so much more than normal rock concerts set in motion?
I don’t know if I did, but I gave it a good
go. I am a lucky woman who gets to be a part of this. I owe Marillion so much,
I can’t even start to list everything…But one thing is certain, this is so much
more than just a weekend with three gigs. This is a better way of life.
Silje Haarr
Friday
Anoraknophobia (the full album)
TSE
Gaza
3 Minute Boy (with the longest scream ever)
Saturday
Marbles (The full double album)
Out Of This World
King
Sounds That Can’t Be Made
Sunday
Market Square Heroes
Garden Party
LavenderHeart Of Lothian
Warm Wet Circles
Sugar Mice
Incommunicado
Hooks In You
Uninvited Guest
No One an
Dry Land
Sympathy
Great Escape
Lap of Luxury
Beautiful
Man Of A Thousand Faces
80 Days
These Chains
See It Like A Baby
Thank You Whoever You Are
Whatever Is Wrong With You
Power
Hocus Pocus
Some images from our amazing weekend x
Saturday, February 7, 2015
How music can change a life, and send you on the path you were supposed to be from the very beginning...
This entry is featured in a book about Marillion and their fans.
In the spring of 2013 I went to my first ever Marillion weekend. I travelled alone, and felt like I was going to meet destiny. Was I ever right? It just didn’t happen it the order I anticipated.
I met my friends at the Moon Under The Sea, or Sun Under The Moon, I could never get the name right (The Moon Under Water), and suddenly I was a part of something quite amazing. The pub became a sort of base camp for the people I hung out with, and I met so many new friends, and wonderful human beings. Among them was a smiling man. I remember thinking he seemed nice, but in a friend kind of way, as he was there with his significant someone, and I had a partner at the time (he was ill, and couldn’t make it to Wolverhampton). I just marvelled in the part where I made so many new friends, little did I know that I would call one of them the love of my soul. And little did we both know the grief and horror we would go through before the nice picture was a reality. I’m actually glad neither of us knew, as what was ahead of us was loss, trauma and death.
In the spring of 2013 I went to my first ever Marillion weekend. I travelled alone, and felt like I was going to meet destiny. Was I ever right? It just didn’t happen it the order I anticipated.
I met my friends at the Moon Under The Sea, or Sun Under The Moon, I could never get the name right (The Moon Under Water), and suddenly I was a part of something quite amazing. The pub became a sort of base camp for the people I hung out with, and I met so many new friends, and wonderful human beings. Among them was a smiling man. I remember thinking he seemed nice, but in a friend kind of way, as he was there with his significant someone, and I had a partner at the time (he was ill, and couldn’t make it to Wolverhampton). I just marvelled in the part where I made so many new friends, little did I know that I would call one of them the love of my soul. And little did we both know the grief and horror we would go through before the nice picture was a reality. I’m actually glad neither of us knew, as what was ahead of us was loss, trauma and death.
This wonderful weekend of music and
friends was a safe haven of something I have never found anywhere else. And the
concert on Saturday, Brave night, was Out Of This World, and going back to the
ordinary life was painfully difficult. And on the bus back to Heathrow, I must
admit tears were running, and all the beautiful faces of friends forever were
flashing before my inner eye.
That autumn I got
engaged to my partner. I hadn’t been together with him for that long, but I
realise now that he was in a hurry to live, and I said yes. He did warn me, he
said: I could die. And I said: Well, we have no guarantees. But he knew what he
was talking about, and on the 20th of December, after having sat by
his hospital bed for a long, long week, Pete died. I remember sitting down in
front of the computer having to share the news with our Marillion family, they
had all followed his illness from the side, so I felt I owed it to them to let
them know. But in all my writing days, that message was the hardest I have ever
had to compose.
The support I got from the Marillion
family was overwhelming, and so touching, that it helped me in those first
horrible days. I got a message from Carolyn, she sent me her condolences… and
then, a few days later, on the morning of December 26th, Trevor
posted a similar message on Marillion and fans to the one I had posted on the
20th. Carolyn had passed away… And there we were. Both of our
futures were ripped away from under us, we were left numb. But something good happened
in the middle of the terror. I got a message in my inbox from Trevor, and we
started talking. We shared the worst moments in our lives, and nobody knew as
well as he did how I really felt. Nobody knew as well as I did how he really
felt.
In the beginning of our correspondence, it was all about helping the other one to survive, to see some sort of light in the darkest tunnel we had ever been in. How to sleep, how to ever find the courage to go back to work and university, how to survive the images of people’s final moments without entering into a nightmare state of mind, and having him there for that was certainly my lifeline.
In the beginning of our correspondence, it was all about helping the other one to survive, to see some sort of light in the darkest tunnel we had ever been in. How to sleep, how to ever find the courage to go back to work and university, how to survive the images of people’s final moments without entering into a nightmare state of mind, and having him there for that was certainly my lifeline.
But then things
started to change. The people around us, friends of both Pete and Carolyn,
probably thought things happened too fast. But not to us…we had been through
the war together, we had been through the longest months of our lives together.
We lived with the blinking images of final moments, the ringing of someone’s
last words, the thoughts of whether or not we could have done or said something
differently, and January and February seemed endless. We spoke together almost
every day, and when you have someone who understands what you’re going through
like that, it truly is the most special feeling in the world. He really knew
what I was going through, he could relate to all the new emotions raging
through my mind, emotions thankfully most people don’t ever have to relate to.
So, in the beginning of March, I knew that I really wanted to meet
Trevor properly, and not just talk with him on Facebook chat. We both knew that
doing something none of us ever had done before, like a leap of faith, was
becoming a reality. And we leapt. He got on a plane and came to see me in
Norway. And on the 18th of March, we found the love of our souls, we
suddenly had a future again.
We know that the people we lost died
while we still loved them. We know that it will never be a non-topic to talk
about them with each other. We know that we still will remember the trauma we
both went through, but we will do so together.
I have never met a man like Trevor,
he is kind and sweet, intelligent, funny, in touch with his emotions, and so
strong, stronger than I think he knows himself.
This summer we
went on a holiday together. We drove to Devon and Cornwall, saw Tintagel, among
other places… and in the car we listened to all of Marillion’s studio albums,
we sang along, loudly, sometimes slightly out of tune, but always completely
convincing, and we had so much fun. It is hard to pinpoint one specific song,
when all the songs, all the albums, have served as a back drop to our lives; to
the drama, to the trauma, to the grief, to the fun and to the love we share. We
are true Marillionaires, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. Now we are both
looking forward to two Marillion weekends together in 2015, and hope to see
both old and new friends.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Me singing my favorite Christmas song
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=4871497601732&set=vb.1726147130&type=2&theater
This is an amateur recording of me singing Gabriel's Message the 13th of December 2014 :)
I found this carol through my favourite rock band, Marillion. And since then, this has been my favourite carol, and I hope I does it justice.
x
This is an amateur recording of me singing Gabriel's Message the 13th of December 2014 :)
I found this carol through my favourite rock band, Marillion. And since then, this has been my favourite carol, and I hope I does it justice.
x
The Christmas Personalities
Season greetings to you all.
This time of year brings out a lot of feelings in us all, both good and bad. And in the middle of traditions and good memories of a normal Christmas personality, we meet the people who act and look like Christmas threw up on them, and we meet people who would make The Grinch look like Santa. I will make a little Much Ado About Shakespeare list, and try to locate all the different types. If I now, with this entry, push some buttons, well... it's all intentional ;) But good fun :D
1. The Christmas Saint
Starting with the good guys, or so they would want the world to think.
'I just gave to charity, it feels so meaningful this time of year.' And from a person who's giving to charity all year without broadcasting, to pat someone who gives once a year on the back seems a bit over the top. But still, giving to charity once a year, is clearly better than not giving at all. But we all know that they need dinner in July as well as in December, they need shoes in March, they need school all year, they need fresh water and medicine every day when they are thirsty and ill... and there are people in this world who works hard to make this happen every day, not just during Christmas, so don't brag about a single donation.
The Christmas Saint is also the one that will give presents of the type: 'A goat has been given in your name to a tribe in the Amazon jungle, thank you so much for your generosity.' And then you're left feeling guilty for actually wanting a real present, even though you're the one with a monthly donation to Joriel in the Philippines, who support Amnesty International every month, and on SMS, who give a donation to shelters every month, so that two people get a warm meal a day, who gives to MSF every month, to help them fight Ebola, and other threatening pandemies.. and you end up feeling guilty because you haven't done enough, because you didn't give a goat. Don't worry, you have :D And it helps, the goat helps, the dinner donations, the sponsoring of a child in the Philippines...We who live in this part of the world have to help. We cannot be the ones who have so much, and can't give to those who have so little... history will tell us that if they are held down long enough, we'll have a revolution at our hands...understandably so. So let's keep the giving spirit of Christmas alive all year long.
2. The Christmas Junkie
This person has covered every inch of their house in Christmas decorations. They proudly wear their selection of hideous Christmas jumpers - and having said this, I actually think the part with a hideous Christmas jumper is slightly funny. We should all get a bit silly during Christmas, stop taking ourselves too seriously, and be a bit goofy :) However, getting slightly off track here. We were talking about the Christmas junkies :) They send 734 Christmas cards every year. They make costumes for the Church's nativity play. They put up three Christmas trees in November, to really soak up the Christmas feeling...they place Christmas spice in every corner, just to savour that Christmas smell. I just saw a bloke on telly, and in his version of reality... he wakes up to Christmas morning every single day...he has Christmas dinner every day, of each year...he is the founder of the Christmas Junkies, I think....
3. The Christmas Whatever
This is a person who couldn't give a flying "#$% whether it's Christmas or not (but secretly I think they do, the 'whatever' is just a defense. Having said that, they do exist, the people who really doesn't care.). This is a person who will loudly tell people how he or she don't really care about Christmas. How they choose to do something else that Christmas related actions on the days in question. And they will tell you about how silly your choice to celebrate Christmas is, and all you can think about is maybe someone should invite this person to a proper Christmas celebration, and give him or her a good hug :)
4. The Christmas Fury
Now, this is a person with issues, maybe they only got socks from Santa one year, and now he or she takes it out on all other people with an irrational anger towards everything even remotely Christmasy. The Christmas Fury is a person who spends a lot of time hating, and who will not hesitate telling you how much he or she hates, and how he or she is walking the only path of justice and normality... I think we all have tried, and concluded with the fact that arguing with a person like this is like a broken pencil, pointless... Happiness is in many cases a choice, and so is fury...
But I'm going to take the opportunity to be a bit serious here, and mention the one thing that makes me livid during Christmas...and that is adults forgetting how much more important their children's Christmas is than alcohol. Please, keep the alcohol to a minimum, maybe even stay away...it's a couple of days when it means so much to the little ones, and cost you so little to stay away. Think of them first...please.
5. The Christmas Stresser
We all know this person, I'm sure. This is an individual who only see the work and the stress with Christmas, they don't see the good parts. These people let themselves be overwhelmed by how clean and perfect everything has to look, how all the presents have to be expensive enough, how the house has to look perfectly... A little stress to make sure the meal is ready in time, and the important presents are in the house, yes, but to let this be so stressful that when you finally get to the opening of the presents, it is considered 'hell', and that is not good. We live in a part of the world we have so much that we have a mountain under the tree, and opening the presents is stressful, more than cosy.
It doesn't matter to your children if there is a dust bunny or two in the corners (unless your son-like mine-has dust allergy, in which case I have to hoover...), as long as they can spend some quality time with their parents and their family... and by quality time I mean mobile phone free hours with people...looking them in the eye :D
Sorry, don't mean to get on my moral high horse here, I just think that Christmas is a time to really leave technology in a corner, with the dust bunnies, and spend time, talking and interacting with the little ones x
6. The Christmas Chiller
'Chill, Christmas is a long time away still.' he says, and it's early afternoon on Christmas eve (which is the big day in Norway). 'The shops are open for fifteen more minutes, loads of time... These geniuses might present presents of 'I just ordered it online, it's on its way'-kind. Or you get toilet seat covers from the petrol station, or something like that. Obviously, the thought counts, but when there seems to have been no thought whatsoever, then it's a bit annoying.
7. The Christmas Panicer
'Oh my God! Christmas is only four months away and I haven't started buying presents.' 'Or, I bought all the presents four years ago, but now I can't find them.' 'What if they won't like what I got, I have to get some more.'
This person is a Christmas Stresser on speed. The stress has taken over, and the worries about what could go wrong is defining every moment...when you could choose to think about what could go right :) Chill, not too much...as things might need to be in the house before the halls are decked with holly, but chill. Being together is the best thing <3
8. The Christmas Cheapskate
The extreme is always over the top, whether we're talking about the big spender or the Scrooge of the group. And this person is many times also confused with, or actually fused with the Christmas Fury... Though, some times this person is a self satisfying person who has a good reply and a perfectly good reason not to give people a Christmas present, and to some degree we might agree with them. The society is a greedy society, and money definitely talks. But then I suggest getting creative rather than cheap. Because I don't like overspending, but I do like putting thought and care into the things I give my family and friends for Christmas. This means sitting down and creating something, like a painting, or a beautiful Christmas Bauble or knitting a scarf, or something like that.
Creativity, my friends <3
9. The Christmas Snob
The cheapskate's complete opposite. This is a person who, when using crystals on their tree, only uses Swarowski, or diamonds. This becomes a bit sad if this person is one with a normal income, in which case one has to ask, what and to whom are you trying to prove? Come Christmas eve, it's mostly family anyway... And the family, and children, don't care about the expensive baubles on your tree, they care about the fact that there IS a tree :)
I do like fancy and sparkling baubles on my tree... and I will decorate my tree so that it's my kind of beautiful... but I can guarantee you that there will only be ONE swarowski crystal on my tree, a little snowflake :) I'm no snob...ask those who knows me, I need protection from myself, that's how much I spill when I for example eat ;)
10. The Christmas Singer
I am not talking about the bands of high quality that have a few gigs just before Christmas because their friends request them to.
I'm talking about women in tight dresses, showing indecent cleavage, and polished men in suits, standing in churches singing about that little baby in the manger with pathos and seriousness, mentally rubbing their hands with greed from the ticket and CD-sale money...clearly not giving the previously mentioned flying "#$% about Christmas, compassion or sharing, as long as people come to hear them scream the Christmas into existence. I don't think I have to tell you, but this kind of Christmas spirit is one that I have developed a serious allergy against. I could even turn into The Christmas Fury when exposed to this kind of fake culture
I must admit that I on different days could fit into any of the above, but I think, in general, I have quite normal feelings towards Christmas. It has always been a time I really appreciate. But last year I lost someone just before Christmas, and this has made me think.
And the only thing that really matters in this time is to spend it with the people you love. And really spend it with them, not just sit next to them, surfing on each your tablet... Suddenly it's too late... So, that's the only thing I will urge you all to do, from America to Japan, from Norway to Australia, from England to India <3
Happy Christmas, my friends...
Love and light <3
I want to thank Linda Fjeld Nesvåg for the idea for this entry. She's a fellow student, fellow blogger, and most important of all, a very good friend <3
This time of year brings out a lot of feelings in us all, both good and bad. And in the middle of traditions and good memories of a normal Christmas personality, we meet the people who act and look like Christmas threw up on them, and we meet people who would make The Grinch look like Santa. I will make a little Much Ado About Shakespeare list, and try to locate all the different types. If I now, with this entry, push some buttons, well... it's all intentional ;) But good fun :D
1. The Christmas Saint
Starting with the good guys, or so they would want the world to think.
'I just gave to charity, it feels so meaningful this time of year.' And from a person who's giving to charity all year without broadcasting, to pat someone who gives once a year on the back seems a bit over the top. But still, giving to charity once a year, is clearly better than not giving at all. But we all know that they need dinner in July as well as in December, they need shoes in March, they need school all year, they need fresh water and medicine every day when they are thirsty and ill... and there are people in this world who works hard to make this happen every day, not just during Christmas, so don't brag about a single donation.
The Christmas Saint is also the one that will give presents of the type: 'A goat has been given in your name to a tribe in the Amazon jungle, thank you so much for your generosity.' And then you're left feeling guilty for actually wanting a real present, even though you're the one with a monthly donation to Joriel in the Philippines, who support Amnesty International every month, and on SMS, who give a donation to shelters every month, so that two people get a warm meal a day, who gives to MSF every month, to help them fight Ebola, and other threatening pandemies.. and you end up feeling guilty because you haven't done enough, because you didn't give a goat. Don't worry, you have :D And it helps, the goat helps, the dinner donations, the sponsoring of a child in the Philippines...We who live in this part of the world have to help. We cannot be the ones who have so much, and can't give to those who have so little... history will tell us that if they are held down long enough, we'll have a revolution at our hands...understandably so. So let's keep the giving spirit of Christmas alive all year long.
2. The Christmas Junkie
This person has covered every inch of their house in Christmas decorations. They proudly wear their selection of hideous Christmas jumpers - and having said this, I actually think the part with a hideous Christmas jumper is slightly funny. We should all get a bit silly during Christmas, stop taking ourselves too seriously, and be a bit goofy :) However, getting slightly off track here. We were talking about the Christmas junkies :) They send 734 Christmas cards every year. They make costumes for the Church's nativity play. They put up three Christmas trees in November, to really soak up the Christmas feeling...they place Christmas spice in every corner, just to savour that Christmas smell. I just saw a bloke on telly, and in his version of reality... he wakes up to Christmas morning every single day...he has Christmas dinner every day, of each year...he is the founder of the Christmas Junkies, I think....
3. The Christmas Whatever
This is a person who couldn't give a flying "#$% whether it's Christmas or not (but secretly I think they do, the 'whatever' is just a defense. Having said that, they do exist, the people who really doesn't care.). This is a person who will loudly tell people how he or she don't really care about Christmas. How they choose to do something else that Christmas related actions on the days in question. And they will tell you about how silly your choice to celebrate Christmas is, and all you can think about is maybe someone should invite this person to a proper Christmas celebration, and give him or her a good hug :)
4. The Christmas Fury
Now, this is a person with issues, maybe they only got socks from Santa one year, and now he or she takes it out on all other people with an irrational anger towards everything even remotely Christmasy. The Christmas Fury is a person who spends a lot of time hating, and who will not hesitate telling you how much he or she hates, and how he or she is walking the only path of justice and normality... I think we all have tried, and concluded with the fact that arguing with a person like this is like a broken pencil, pointless... Happiness is in many cases a choice, and so is fury...
But I'm going to take the opportunity to be a bit serious here, and mention the one thing that makes me livid during Christmas...and that is adults forgetting how much more important their children's Christmas is than alcohol. Please, keep the alcohol to a minimum, maybe even stay away...it's a couple of days when it means so much to the little ones, and cost you so little to stay away. Think of them first...please.
5. The Christmas Stresser
We all know this person, I'm sure. This is an individual who only see the work and the stress with Christmas, they don't see the good parts. These people let themselves be overwhelmed by how clean and perfect everything has to look, how all the presents have to be expensive enough, how the house has to look perfectly... A little stress to make sure the meal is ready in time, and the important presents are in the house, yes, but to let this be so stressful that when you finally get to the opening of the presents, it is considered 'hell', and that is not good. We live in a part of the world we have so much that we have a mountain under the tree, and opening the presents is stressful, more than cosy.
It doesn't matter to your children if there is a dust bunny or two in the corners (unless your son-like mine-has dust allergy, in which case I have to hoover...), as long as they can spend some quality time with their parents and their family... and by quality time I mean mobile phone free hours with people...looking them in the eye :D
Sorry, don't mean to get on my moral high horse here, I just think that Christmas is a time to really leave technology in a corner, with the dust bunnies, and spend time, talking and interacting with the little ones x
6. The Christmas Chiller
'Chill, Christmas is a long time away still.' he says, and it's early afternoon on Christmas eve (which is the big day in Norway). 'The shops are open for fifteen more minutes, loads of time... These geniuses might present presents of 'I just ordered it online, it's on its way'-kind. Or you get toilet seat covers from the petrol station, or something like that. Obviously, the thought counts, but when there seems to have been no thought whatsoever, then it's a bit annoying.
7. The Christmas Panicer
'Oh my God! Christmas is only four months away and I haven't started buying presents.' 'Or, I bought all the presents four years ago, but now I can't find them.' 'What if they won't like what I got, I have to get some more.'
This person is a Christmas Stresser on speed. The stress has taken over, and the worries about what could go wrong is defining every moment...when you could choose to think about what could go right :) Chill, not too much...as things might need to be in the house before the halls are decked with holly, but chill. Being together is the best thing <3
8. The Christmas Cheapskate
The extreme is always over the top, whether we're talking about the big spender or the Scrooge of the group. And this person is many times also confused with, or actually fused with the Christmas Fury... Though, some times this person is a self satisfying person who has a good reply and a perfectly good reason not to give people a Christmas present, and to some degree we might agree with them. The society is a greedy society, and money definitely talks. But then I suggest getting creative rather than cheap. Because I don't like overspending, but I do like putting thought and care into the things I give my family and friends for Christmas. This means sitting down and creating something, like a painting, or a beautiful Christmas Bauble or knitting a scarf, or something like that.
Creativity, my friends <3
9. The Christmas Snob
The cheapskate's complete opposite. This is a person who, when using crystals on their tree, only uses Swarowski, or diamonds. This becomes a bit sad if this person is one with a normal income, in which case one has to ask, what and to whom are you trying to prove? Come Christmas eve, it's mostly family anyway... And the family, and children, don't care about the expensive baubles on your tree, they care about the fact that there IS a tree :)
I do like fancy and sparkling baubles on my tree... and I will decorate my tree so that it's my kind of beautiful... but I can guarantee you that there will only be ONE swarowski crystal on my tree, a little snowflake :) I'm no snob...ask those who knows me, I need protection from myself, that's how much I spill when I for example eat ;)
10. The Christmas Singer
I am not talking about the bands of high quality that have a few gigs just before Christmas because their friends request them to.
I'm talking about women in tight dresses, showing indecent cleavage, and polished men in suits, standing in churches singing about that little baby in the manger with pathos and seriousness, mentally rubbing their hands with greed from the ticket and CD-sale money...clearly not giving the previously mentioned flying "#$% about Christmas, compassion or sharing, as long as people come to hear them scream the Christmas into existence. I don't think I have to tell you, but this kind of Christmas spirit is one that I have developed a serious allergy against. I could even turn into The Christmas Fury when exposed to this kind of fake culture
I must admit that I on different days could fit into any of the above, but I think, in general, I have quite normal feelings towards Christmas. It has always been a time I really appreciate. But last year I lost someone just before Christmas, and this has made me think.
And the only thing that really matters in this time is to spend it with the people you love. And really spend it with them, not just sit next to them, surfing on each your tablet... Suddenly it's too late... So, that's the only thing I will urge you all to do, from America to Japan, from Norway to Australia, from England to India <3
Happy Christmas, my friends...
Love and light <3
I want to thank Linda Fjeld Nesvåg for the idea for this entry. She's a fellow student, fellow blogger, and most important of all, a very good friend <3
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