I am a dying God, coming into human flesh

It is sort of funny, but I had never thought about how much stuff i took down from the internet. I mean someone from work asked me if I had something he could read, because we seem to have a similar taste in books.

And I gave him this link, and looking at it – there is litteraly nothing left, shit man. I have some stupid nosleep stories which are no good, and a copy story that I didnt come up with myself – well in some roundabout way I just redid the story, and used the bare bones from the original Danish YA horror story. It is not an attempt of plagiarism, but more like a homage – it is never uploaded anywhere but here, and I never made money on it.

So the book Anne and I are working on, and have been working on since 2019 or something (it’s pathetic I know) is actually taking shape, but we both just had so much crap in RL that writing is not exactly the first thing I get done. I dont know how other writers work but i need a very specific headspace to be able to make something. Also I cant take my meds if I am writing, because my creativity works differently – its hard to explain, but on my meds I can make things like clothes, scarfs, shelving, all sorts of stuff that requires that I use a little math and logic. But I cannot write.

When I don’t take my meds I can write, but its close to the only thing I can do besides the bare bone of house chores and computer games. It is a fine line to walk, and for a while I have chosen to take my meds because I have so much crap I need to take care of in my real adult life – and I don’t have time to disappear into another place while I write. technically i think i would need like a month or two off work and meds to get shit done.

I realise it sounds like the worst excuse but it is really not. And I think its a pissing shame that I deleted so much stuff over the years, every time I felt like reinventing myself as an author, I basically deleted every trace of what was. And that is my point, its hard to call yourself author when you got nothing to show for it, besides some ass old story that was never finished – and tale about back when I had a contract with a publisher… well I did, and it was much more expensive to get out of that fucking contract than my innitial fee was – also how that book was butchered is a crime. I am so glad that I deleted every trace of my alias I wrote under, and that book, and the contract – that was a really bad time indeed. And I am glad that Anne and I owns the characters and the story again, however expensive, seriously fuck BSB for charging us so much more than we got paid up front, and the book ever sold for. and fuck BSB for charging a fee for us to have a moron to edit out book, and for “PR advise” like ‘try making a facebook and connet with people’… sigh

Enough about that, i am just still bitter and desillusioned.

But now for the good news, because I have that as well, as I said the plan was for Anne to do 3 stories, and me to do 3 stories – I did technically make 2 of them, though i HATE the ending of the newest one i made. I am going to redo the ending as soon as I have a moment where I can “unfocus” for a day or two. And then that can go to editing as well. And a friend of mine offered an illustration, lets see what happens with that, because I don’t quite know if it will make sense to include in the book or just flash as a promo thing, i will however post it here and link to the artist as soon as I have it =)

I have bought myself a new surname when I got divorced this summer – I chose that name for many reasons, but one of them is that is because it’s easy to translate without it losing it’s meaning.

There you have it, so much talk about writing without anything to show.. its the fucking story of my life.

The walls have ears.

Alright so here is a long overdue update or something. So I have absolutely consumed more horror than I have produced for a loooooooooooong while. I have a couple of unfinished things that I hope to finish soon, but truth is that I have been so hung up in RL that it has simply not been realistic to find time to write or keep up with a blog. Dude I have barely been able to make dinner.

Things have changed, and I hope that I will be able to find the time, I really want to, but as you know I just haven’t done it.

I will not be making more youtube videos, it was fun and all, but I’m over it.

Also can I just mention how fucking sick I am of youtube and Codan’s twist, which leaves me with like a tenth of videos on youtube, almost everything is blocked in my country. Luckily not creepypasta narrations, and thank fuck for that.

Walls have ears.
Doors have eyes.
Trees have voices.
Beasts tell lies.
Beware the rain.
Beware the snow.
Beware the man
You think you know.
quote – Catherine Fisher

Personal update of a sorts

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I am in the middle of a whirlwind of real life stuff, some personal relationship things, but also a complete redefining of myself as a person – but also struggling to find my creative outlet. These last months I have been trying to launch my etsy shop, which has not gone super well (understatement of the year – cause actually it has only been a expense to me). But I have earned a little making shawls on commissions, though I know I should charge more for these things, cause actually I think I make like maybe 10 quid, the rest is to cover yarn and postage.

I have some plot points lying about, I struggled with the deep space story, so I don’t know man… tried with shorter things on reddit – that didn’t go super well either, even if one of them actually got narrated on youtube by someone. I want to write something good, and well plots are like fine wine, they need time, I do collect ideas and stuff when I watch my gazillion documentaries while crocheting, so I think I might be able to piece something together eventually. =) When I do, you will be the first to know. I am however returning more and more to my first lazy draft of a thing called ‘spinner’, but I think ima use it in a different context.

I did plan on making more vlogs in the future, but first of all I need the space to do it, which I just don’t these days. But what I CAN get better at is blogging.

You are always welcome to come find me on either tumblr, twitter or facebook – I suck at updating either, so there’s that.

 

Artificial apocalypse.

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So my 12 year old daughter and I took a walk the other day, and she was telling me about this dream she had. In her defence she is watching the walking dead, and I do not believe in censorship of fictive shows or movies.

Well my daughter told me about this dream which went something like this; it was the zombie apocalypse and the main person was an android, but didn’t know it himself. He only found out because he was bit by a zombie.

I think this is a GREAT idea to work from! I asked her if I could borrow her idea to write it, and she was a little surprised that I thought her dream sounded like something that could be a story. They know I write, but never read anything I made. In the end she told me  that I could have her idea, but only one person could survive.

Have I told you that I love the way her mind works?

I know I had not planned on working on a zombie story, but I simply has to write this.

There was a man, he went mad, he jumped into a paper bag.

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I often write about things that I do not understand, I take great pride in investigating places in the human psyche that I simply cannot relate to. The trick which I personally finde is a drive for my inspiration is to both make my story believable and also to portray the subject matter neutrally.

Reading a story like this one tho makes me take three steps back in amazement, it blows my mind that people can live with a dead baby in a swing, and this baby has apparently been dead for over a week when the police was called. And also these people had other children in this apartment.

One wonders – so would they pretend the baby was alive? would they forget it was there? I mean one thing is that they ignore this child long enough for it to die in a swing, but to just leave it in the swing is even more crazy somehow. I don’t for a second think you can forget that you got a dead baby in your apartment, I mean it must have taken time for it to die, and also it gotta smell eventually. And what about the other kids, wouldn’t they have said something? pointed something out?

Sadly the article and the news article linked to from there, is scarce with information – so it just leaves us to speculate.

It’s not that I personally understand how you can do something like this to your child, but stories pop up like this all the time, so some people is clearly able to not only have a nurturing, empathic bone in their body. I would say that it must be drug related, since they can forget their baby for over a week, but what about the other kids? – Some articles say ‘kids’ and some say they had a 4 year old girl. As I said, the actual information is not very valid.

It does fascinate me that a person, a mother none the less, can have this amount of disregard for a human life, and her own child.

A tiny update of a sorts.

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So as I said in the video I did go to the local thrift store but found nothing. I am also still waiting for the microphone and wanted to wait for it to arrive before I made a new video, it should arrive this week.

It also turned out to be a huge process to move all my oldest daughters shit out of the bedroom, and I have to wait for my husband to bring home a stick for the paint roller, cause I can’t reach the ceiling otherwise, and it makes no sense what so ever to paint the walls but not the ceiling (pretty overdo too, I haven’t painted the ceiling for the 11 years we lived here).

I have a couple of minor projects that I wanted to talk about in regards to the room makeover, but mostly that i have a kid free “date” Friday, with some old friends at this huge ass market with both new stuff and old stuff, and most importantly – beer. I do hope i can find something cool for the bedroom there though.

I have some books I read and stuff but I decided that it was not worth to make a video with, so I reckon the next video will be up sometime next week. =)

I have the body of a pig.

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So Just wanted to say that I am working on a bunch of horror shorts. I will be posting some of it here. So sorry about the long break, but I’m back.

I am very grateful for those of you who still follow this blog even if I’ve been gone for so long.

So besides writing more horror, I am going to present more content, including some vlogs, and other peoples independant short horror movies. I am working on two different horror project, one in English and one in my native language Danish. The Danish project I do with my husband who is an artist, the project is called ‘running with scissors’ and you are welcome to check it out even if you’d have to use google translate.

If you want to find me posting loads of horror stuff on Tumblr i’m here

 

…What if?

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So I promised to write a little somthing about that creepypasta I stumbled across, called “The blanket monster”. Not so much about the creepypasta, but more about what it made me think of.

Alright so what is fear? What are you afraid of? Quite simple it’s the what if’s that is the most frightening. We all know that shapeshifters doesn’t exist, but what if they do? It’s easy to doubt your logic when you are walking down a dark wooded area.

And really it’s the same with more logical things like terrorists, if they’d only call in advance and let you know that they were gonna hijack that plane, or bomb that building, things would be fine, right? But they don’t, and we’re back to the what if’s, because what if it’s your plane? What if it’s today at your office?

That is what fear is made of, uncertainty about when something bad is gonna happen, wether they have a rifle or 3 rows of teeth.

And what is it in this creepypasta that works so well? Maybe I am all alone in thinking it’s scary? I don’t know. But have you even lain in bed and wondered if the person next to you, is the person you think it is? Or wondered if it’s really your mom in the basement, or if the familiar noises are just there to ease you down there? Or maybe felt something lay down at the footend of your cover, not wanthing to open your eyes, because what if your dog still laying on the floor?

That is what is working so well in this creepypasta, that childhood fear that we never really rid ourselves from, the fear of something “normal” suddenly becomming alien and frightening. When I was a kid I had a room upstairs, but I was afraid of staying upstairs alone, so I would make my fosterdad stand there at the bottom of the stairs while I sprintet upstairs to get some toys, he would always make fun of me and make ghost noises and growling noises to mess with me. And that was not what scared me really, what scared me was the thought of, what if it was not my fosterdad making those noises? What if that growling noise from the bottom of the stairs were suddenly mirrored right behind me? Needless to day I fucking hated fetching toys upstairs.

And when I grew older and got home late from the local youthclub, I’d have to take my bike into the garage, now my fosterparents garage was pretty oldschool, you’d have to jimmy your hand in between the door and the wall to reach the lightswitch, and flip the lock of the door to make it swing open. It was a reoccouring nightmare to me, I still remember having to stick my hand in there in the dark to turn on the lights, and on top of that it was one of those old “timed” switches, so the light would go out after a specific amount of time, like you have on the staircases of large estate buildings. So I’d wait for the lights to flicker on, it was those long tubes so it took some time for them to stop flickering, and you really did not have time to wait because then the light would go out whlie you were in there. The garage door was a huge door that was mostly like an overgrown yard door, so it swung up sideways, but because it was so big and heavy it was not held up properly and would get stuck midway. You have no idea how scared I was going into that garage, every goddamn weekend, and sometimes on weekdays. So what I did was to swing the door open before I turned on the lights, and the moment I turned on the lights I’d go in and look behind the half open garage door to see if anyone was hiding behind it, and the take my bike in, and as quick as possible, preferbly before the lights went off, slammed the garage door behind me, but if you slammed too hard, the latch would not click down, and you’d have to do that manually, ergo stick your hand into the darkness to lock it in place.

My fosterdad sometimes thought it was hillarious, if he was in the garden by night (yeah so he liked to piss in the garden by night – don’t ask) and/or was waiting for the dog to finish up outside before going to bed, to do the same thing as with the stairs when I was younger, the whole ghost/growl thing. Luckily he was never so cruel as to hide behind the garage door, or grab my hand as I stuck it in between the door and the wall. Had he done that I’m sure i’d had a hearattack, seriously.

I know it’s a theme here on this blog, the ‘what if’ things aren’t as I think they are? Very matrix’ish really. And nothing of course ever happened while i fetched toys from upstairs, or parked my bike in the garage – but what if that one time I forget to be afraid and on guard, is the time that it strikes? I might still have my childhood imagination, and I’m not sure that I as an adult would actually be brave enough to do the garage routine differently if I had to.

Cause you just never know…

And none for the little boy 
who cries down the lane

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I read an article today about this mother who was found pushing her dead toddler in a swing. Someone called the police because this lady had been pushing this swing for over 12 hours, and someone found that odd. The police got there, found the kid dead but with no trauma to it, the article says that they had to cut the toddler out of the swing, and that the mother is at a mental facility now.

It must be the saddest thing I ever read, but it still leaves me with more questions than facts, cause some witnesses say that they had seen this lady on the playground earlier that day, but it says nothing about of she was pushing her dead kid in a swing them, or of the child was alive. Also that is some seriously fast rigor mortis if they have to cut the swing down to get the kid out, assuming that the kid wasn’t dead when put in the swing.

Think I’m making this up? Read the article here & another here. & a news report here.

 But if we ignore the mothers personal trauma and tragedy for a moment, and look at the actual act. Imagine the scary story it will without a doubt turn into.  Because it really IS creepy ain’t it? Dead kids are always creepy, dead kids and playgrounds even worse, and a mother driven insane by grief is the icing on the cake.