Aqualion's Daily Blues

This can be a problem, because when people ask me what I do, the truthful answer would be 'Nothing' and most of the time that is what I say. Sometimes this means end of conversation, right there, because some people find it really hard to accept the fact that there are people who don't have jobs, and get by quite well even so. Some will envy the freedom I have, and the fact that I don't do anything even annoys some people. If I get the chance to explain, they often get more understanding. You don't get disability pension without having problems with your health. I would have a job, if I could manage it, but unfortunately I can't, due to injuries and psychological traumas and the fact that I am an alcoholic.

Most people will understand that, when I explain.

However, I do work. Not like a nine to five job, and nothing that pays anything worth mentioning, but I do work.

Apart from my music business, which is kind of low at the moment, I write.

This I have been doing ever since I first got a pencil in my hand. Yes, the pencil. I simply love this simple instrument, a life long love. I can sit and fondle at a pencil and just enjoy the presence of it, the feel of the wood, the simplicity of its design. And the promise... Together, this pencil and me can preform the greatest and oldest magic in the world... I just have to put it to the paper, and count to three...

Actually it is not as much the art of writing that fascinates me as this magic. You need one pencil and one sheet of paper, and that is all you need. That is true magic, in my book. And the best thing about it is, that everybody can do it.

In Denmark we have a classic children's book called 'Otto, the rhinoceros', about two boys who find a pencil and draws a picture of a rhinoceros on the living room wall. The pencil is magical, and the drawing turns alive, steps out of the wall and starts eating the furniture. This becomes the start of a great and very fun story.

Every pencil is like that. Every drawing has a life. Every single word ever written down is alive. If not on its own then definitely in the mind of the spectator.

This I love and appreciate.

Of course the modern ways have also corrupted me. Nowadays, I only use the pencil for drawing, which I do frequently and not without talent (so they say). Well, sometimes it does evolve into writing, but very rarely, since it's a lot easier to write on this here laptop.

When I had a job, a professional career, it was of course in the area of writing. I was a journalist, newspaper man, I even made it to the editor's chair, before I had to call it a day. So, I write, It's what I do and have been doing almost my entire life.


When I moved to this extremely cheap apartment, I considered to start writing full time again. My wife, the sweet creature, urged me in the way modern women urge their men, by telling me, that if I just lay around on the couch, doing nothing, it would be not only a waste of talent but a complete waste of life. Of course I have 1000 different excuses to flip up in cases like that, but she's persistent, and finally I ran out of excuses.

So, I'm getting ready to start writing.

Fortunately, I don't have to start from scratch this time. I have hundreds of texts lying around, and also in the memory of this here laptop. I just have to decide which story to pick, because I know it's going to be a story, a novel, a book. I've never published a book before. Short stories, poems and hundreds of articles and news paper stories, but never a novel. I just haven't had the time. And I also had 1000 excuses. However, as mentioned, I'm fresh out of excuses, so there's nothing I can do.

I have to write.

I have two prospects.

One is the story of a writer, who goes to a remote corner of Denmark to finish his book. He ends up in a surreal mess of drugs, crime, paranormal activities, anger, mystery, etc., all in the facility of this typical Danish village with an inn, a nearby country manor, a lake, a forest and the moor. Oh, yes, he also falls in love with a local girl. It's a mush-up of typical Danish rural romanticism and modern surreal action. Basically a suspense novel with a twist of Gothic horror, grave rubbers, ghosts, ancient curses and stuff. There's a treasure hidden somewhere on that romantic country side which everybody wants. People get killed, car chases included. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Coming out of the magic pencil – or in this case directly from the magician's finger tips. I've already written some 150 pages. The work started about six years ago, around the time when I got the pension.

The other one is a project called '245'. This goes way back. I think I got the idea when I was still a young boy. As far as I remember I dreamed the title. That number. 245. I know it sounds weird, but that is how it works with writing. You don't know where it comes from, and you don't know where it starts or ends. You just have to go with the flow and don't ask stupid questions... 245 is a crime story that takes place in a not so distant future. It's not really science fiction, because the technology and the way of life is pretty much the same as now. Everything is just a little changed, a little distorted, a little messier. And a lot more deranged. The location is a mega city that covers most of East Denmark and South Sweden, Malmö and Copenhagen combined. The plot is the mysterious death of a young woman. The main character is Travis, investigator with an obscure federal bureau. He is not police, not agent, his title is just plain 'expert'. It's a dark story, heavy, slow and with a touch of Scandinavian depression and insanity all the way through, as told by the main character, personal, up front and with no soothing make up. The readers don't know what it is about. They don't even know what this guy is doing. Gradually, as you read along, you find out in what specific area Travis is expert, why he is doing what he does, and you are dragged beneath the surface of this modern city, down the drains into the cold and dark underworld where the beasts rest. Sounds nice, doesn't it?

Of course, I will be writing in Danish, so, unless you can read Danish, there's probably no way you will ever read it.

However, I will start writing, and if you will, you may follow how it goes on this here web log. I have decided to write a journal and post it on Opera.

Hey, don't worry. There will still be music, stupid pictures, funny videos and other stuff. The Daily Blues continues as before.