Showing posts with label holiday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holiday. Show all posts
Hello my friends,
so this was a long summer for me. How was yours? What did you do? I wonder who travelled the most or the farthest.
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| Baltic Sea - by Susan Petzold |
Oh, and then I went to the Baltic sea and slept on the beach - yes, we had a blanket - yes, it was still freezing - no, we didn't sleep that much. From 4am on, it was more a matter of walking around and getting warm ideas than sleeping. But hey, the day was wonderful - warm, sunny, the beach was amazing and I loved the waves. (For your information: I planned to go to the sea for 4 years and never managed due to various reasons. So this was fantastic.)
So this was the best of my summer experience.
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| Summer is over |
Now back to literature, the arts of writing, the experience of being a writer. All those lovely things that I didn't have to miss over the summer, even though I didn't have time to share it on here.
Yes, I didn't share it on here yet - BUT I will do so in the next couple of weeks. I will tell you about my work experience at a publishers in Germany, how I managed handling difficult illustrators, awesome and helpful Czech printing companies and layouting a whole novel. Not to forget my personal work: my new novel is getting along nicely and I definitely need to get a progress counter on here. Updates and the whole story so far to come in the next few weeks, so be prepared ...
BY THE WAY - nice to be back and have you all back.
Happy summer everyone!
Today I have sort of sad news. I'm gonna need a summer break for a few weeks, because I'm going away, different trips for the next month or so. Unfortunately, I can't always provide internet and I don't want someone to expect a post unnecessarily.
So, this means I will see you back sometime in August and I'm sure you're gonna have a lot to tell yourself then.
See you soon,
Nahno
Another special Sunday post:
This time with one of my short stories in full. Most of the things that happen are based on actual events. At some point my imagination went so far astray that I couldn't distinguish between reality and story anymore. This is a truly fantastical experience as a writer.
Did something similar ever happen to you?
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| teenagewasteland.de |
Prologue:
Laura ran through the foyer, past the empty tables of the bar, past the information desk and jumped towards the button between the lift doors. She stood with her plump arms on her knees, breathing heavily. The doors on the other side glided open. She crossed the wet laminate floor and threw herself into the lift.
The place was empty. She wished her parents would not spend the whole day inside. Others went out onto the piste despite New Years Eve, too. The lift stopped. She crawled out of the cabin onto the blue carpet of the floor foyer and lifted herself up, straightening her skirt. She turned out of the lift niche when she dropped her keys. Immediately she jumped after them.
What was that? Her eyes scanned the floor and rested on a chest in the middle of the foyer. The four plants, two of them as tall as her standing, were moved. They surrounded the chest now. There was also an old desk on one side and a cupboard next to the vending machine.
She crawled to the chest and let one hand slide over the dry and rough surface. The dark wood smelled sweet and sticky, somehow like resin. At the front side she found a black punctured hinge. The cold iron sat firmly on the flat bolt. In the centuries the lid had deformed so much that the pieces barely fit anymore. With a loud rattle, the hinge came loose. Pulling it upwards, together with the heavy lid, she peered into the hollow space. It was empty. Just an empty chest. She dropped it with a loud thud, pushed herself up on one knee and hurried down the corridor.
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