A Traveling Writer

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Before I get into traveling and writing, an announcement: this blog celebrated its one-year birthday on Monday! Yay! Thank you, reader, for being here – it does mean a lot.

But now – let’s start the second year of blogging!

As we sold most of our things in June and packed the rest in four boxes and two backpacks, for the past month, I have been a writer without a desk. Or, at least I’ve been a writer without my usual desk – the white, steady desk of perfect height on which I wrote the last 30,000 words of Yellow Tails and my very first NC-17 fanfic, among many other things.

For the past three weeks, I have been a writer and a traveler.

But you know what? It hasn’t been that bad being a traveling writer. This was something I kept writing about in my journal every now and then for a few months before the Great Departure, wondering how I would keep on writing without my usual routines. Would I be able to keep on editing Yellow Tails? How about writing fan fiction I’ve enjoyed so much – could I still write and be active on that writing forum I decided to return to?

A Prolific Sailor

The first two weeks that were spent on a sailboat were the first test for me to try out being a writer while traveling. Sailing is usually the type of activity that keeps one continuously active – you’re steering, adjusting the sails, cooking food (which is a challenge on a rocking sailboat), navigating, fixing things or just focusing on the sea around you. There isn’t much time for anything else.

I was prepared for writing only in the evenings, maybe squeezing out a few hundred words on some current writing project. However, this sailing trip was somewhat different. The weather was almost always against us – most days the wind was too strong or from the wrong direction which meant that half of our time on the boat was spent in harbors waiting for calmer seas.

For the traveling (or the sailing) writer, this was excellent news.

I was surprisingly prolific during those harbor days! I started publishing a short (around 2,000 words) series of fan fiction on a writing forum and wrote about 3,000 words on a new one. In addition to that, I wrote a blog post and an article for a sailing magazine.

Although we were four people crammed in a small space, the wind kept howling in the mast and the boat was continuously rocking because of the waves, I managed to be creative and efficient in my writing. I did just fine.

An Hour A Day

This experience calmed my worries about the travels we have ahead of us. Many trips are filled with activities that begin early in the morning and end in the evening, keeping the traveler active 12 hours a day. We, however, won’t be in a haste while we travel – we plan on taking the time we need. This means that I can squeeze in at least an hour of writing time in the morning (maybe in a nice café?) or maybe an hour in the evening, depending on the day.

Of course, every day cannot be a writing day because of traveling from one place to another or because of something else – but at least I know I will have some writing time almost every day. This makes me happy because it means I’ll be able to keep my passion alive and my mind calm.

I hope to be able to make another update on being traveling writer in a month or two, just to tell you how traveling goes together with something that feels like the opposite of traveling (although, now when I think about it – I will be traveling both physically and mentally because isn’t writing always like taking a trip somewhere in your mind?).

On Sunday, me and my partner fly to Bangkok, Thailand. It will be a 15-hour flight and I plan on taking my laptop with me on the plane – I’ve never written fiction on a plane (only some academic notes for my studies) so we’ll see how that works out!

What My Grandfather Taught Me

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Tomorrow is my grandfather’s funeral. He died peacefully at the respectful age of 95 on a beautiful Friday morning two weeks ago. I visited the care home that morning to see him one last time and I was happy to see the peaceful look on his face – it felt important to see him one last time.

After he passed away, I’ve been going through some old photos I found at my grandparent’s apartment before the place was emptied as they had moved to a care home.

Most of the photos I found have been taken by my grandfather, some of them have been taken by someone else as my grandfather is in the photo. The photos have made me wonder who he was, what he believed in and what of his values has he passed on to me.

He was a silent and a thoughtful man who did smile but not very easily. I remember how he was always reading the newspaper or sleeping. He liked sweets and baked goods. He was always organizing papers and staying updated about what was happening in the country – they subscribed to four different daily newspapers.

Those are some of the memories I have of him. But for the past few weeks I’ve been thinking about his legacy – what he taught me through his way of being and how he lived his life. This is what I’ve realized:

Routines

My grandfather was a man who followed his daily routines. He would wake up at 4 AM to read the newspaper and then take a nap (it was usually my job to go and wake him very carefully and kindly for breakfast). Then he would read or organize his papers, maybe work for a while at his work apartment in the house next door. In the afternoons, he went for his walk. Every single day. Even at old age when Alzheimer was taking over his brain, he could remember all the streets he walked through during that afternoon walk.

I don’t know why he had his routines – I never asked. But he must have known they were good because they give so much more time and space for some proper thinking and for understanding things. Maybe I’ve simply taken after him?

Knowledge

When I was little and did some homework after school at my grandparents, I sometimes needed help finding out about a fact. Most often, I turned to my grandfather who was known for knowing great many details about what seemed to be everything.

However, when I asked my question, may that have been about history or geography or grammar, I never got a straight answer from him although he probably knew it. Instead, he would go to the great bookshelf and pick up one, two or three books about the subject. He then helped me find the right page where I could find the information I was looking for.

I believe he knew that if I would find the information myself I would remember it better – and I believe he was right.

Literature

As you might have realized by now, my grandfather was a man who respected information. He was a history guide and a tour guide on trips in Europe – and together with his team he won several years in a row a competition where the team is supposed to drive from one place to another and answer some detailed questions about the city.

He knew a lot without getting any help from Google, Siri or Sierra.

In addition to love for information, my grandfather respected books. My grandfather was the one responsible for buying us all a book for Christmas. He didn’t mind that they were fiction but I think it meant a lot to him to know that all his grandchildren were fond of reading (I wonder what he would think about Yellow Tails).

Although I wouldn’t maybe hold on to as many books as he did while he lived, I still like to think his love for literature and information has passed on to me.

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In addition to these things, I remember him for his good humor, wisdom and excellent board game skills. One time, me and my grandfather were a team while playing Star of Africa and we won the game by finding the diamond in time and returning home rich as any. He was a clever man.

There’s so many things I would like to ask him now – real grown-up things that I wonder about and would like to hear his thoughts on. I hope he would’ve written a diary of some sort to know what he thought and believed in. But I can’t do that, not ask questions or read his thoughts. It’s too late for that.

But I have his photos, I have my memories – rest of it I’ll just have to build up on my own.

The Idyllic Villages We Pass By – An Update From Sea

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Hello.

It’s day eight at sea. For the past week, we have sailed along the eastern coast of Gotland, visiting small fishing harbors and idyllic villages. We’ve had rain, we’ve had sun. Incredibly hard winds, followed by non-existent winds. My socks have been dry but they have also been completely wet.

It has been a ride – and at the same time, it feels as if I’ve been on holiday. A different kind but nevertheless, a holiday. Every new village and harbor we visit gives something new to see. We’ve seen some incredible nature (that reminds me of Norway, Ireland and Greece at the same time) and met some nice pub owners.

One of the best things to do in a new harbor after a long day of sailing is to eat ice cream. So simple, so enjoyable. However, finding ice cream can become tricky – these small idyllic villages we stay in for a night or two have their own way of doing things. In one of the harbors, the nearest grocery store is four kilometers away and only open until 6 PM. In another, the flea market that sells ice cream is open only when the owner feels like it.

Despite the challenges in ice cream hunt, these small places have been nice – as long as we stay there for a short amount of time. Otherwise, the place can start feeling too small. It’s a relief to know, that we are only passing by. Many of these people, however, are staying here all year around. I wonder how they do it.

The Italians, who serve pasta carbonara at their restaurant in a small fishing harbor. Of all the places, how did they end up there?

The owner-lady of the tiny grocery store where every item is still registered manually by number series. Is this her life work? What will happen to the store when she retires?

The woman who instructs a yoga class at her house every Thursday at 7 PM. A slice of something exotic in an otherwise traditional Swedish society?

I realize that I live a very different life now than they do. It takes time to adjust to the thought.

But before I have time to think about these people too much, we move on to the next place. The people stay in their idyllic houses, keep on their day-to-day lives while we raise the sails and head out to sea.

(Although, next up we have a 30-hour sailing trip ahead of us to the next island if the weather treats us nicely. That island is supposed to have a colony of seals – we’ll see if it’s true.)

Goodbye To All Things Familiar

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The Finnish Archipelago at 8.35 AM on a Tuesday.

I love sitting down at a random place to write: whether it’s writing notes in a notebook, a journal entry or a blog post, writing it somewhere else than home makes the whole thing much more enjoyable.

(I mean, it’s a raw fact that writing isn’t always pleasurable – it can be a pain in the butt. And still so incredibly rewarding.)

Therefore, I’m excited to be writing this particular blog post on a ferry that travels in the Finnish Archipelago. Together with my partner, I am on my way to a very small island.

Utö, the island we are going to, is the last island in Western Finland. After that come the international seas. And that’s where we are headed.

The Two Realities

The past couple of weeks have been extremely tough. First, my partner lost a family member. A week later, my grandfather passed away. So many, too many devastatingly sad things have happened in a short period of time.

At the same time, I have become a Master of Science, and me and my partner have been preparing for this big huge trip we’ve been planning for the past two years.

We have been going through our things – selling them, donating them, throwing away the things we no longer need and that cannot be recycled. In a way, we are more free now. We have emptied our apartment, sold our furniture. Last night we slept in our sleeping bags on the floor with three blankets to soften it.

The mind alters between two realities – in one, it is dealing with death. In the second, it is dealing with life.

Death waits for no one, neither does it care about carefully made plans. The timing of these two deaths has been so odd as they’ve happened precisely at the same time as we are planning on embarking on our journey.

But we don’t let Death make us wait – we don’t alter our plans because it paid a visit. Therefore, despite the devastating happenings we have continued making our plans and preparations for our journey.

It may sound harsh but for me it sounds like celebrating life, like I’m aiming on living a fulfilling life on this planet.

The controversy of the two different realities that take turns in my mind has been confusing. At the same time, life ends as it goes on.

I miss those who have gone onward and at times my chest fills with grief – and at the same time I feel excitement, pride and happiness for things to come.

From Ferry to Sailboat

So, at the moment we are traveling towards west to meet up with friends and join them on a sailboat (it’s a familiar one from before). From the little island of Utö we aim towards Copenhagen where we plan to be in two weeks. After that, we’ll see what happens.

We have all our belongings with us – everything we think we will need in the coming months are packed in two backpacks and two day-time bags. We have said goodbye to all things familiar and look forward to experience something quite new.

We mourn those who have passed but at the same time we remind ourselves of the good things that come.

I hope to be able to update you along the way from Utö to Copenhagen if I find wi-fi to do so. But just know that I am on the road (or at the sea) and –

I am celebrating life.

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(From now on, the blog posts may come on other days than on Thursdays. I aim to post once a week but as I enjoy these happening right now posts, I’ll probably post when I have the opportunity to sit down, write and, when finished, press ‘publish’. Maybe in this way I can transfer some of the travel feels through this blog to you, reader.)

When Death Collects One

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(This post deals with death and suicide – no gory details, but still, please read with caution.)

We all distract ourselves from the realities of life in different ways. Some turn to Netflix to watch TV-series for an hour or two. Some spend time on social media watching what others our doing. Some go out and get active, running or playing pool or trying to escape from Escape Room in less than 60 minutes.

And some distract themselves from the realities of life by leaving it.

When a person one knows so well decides to take his own life, it forces oneself to think about the world in a very different way. And it forces oneself to think about death in a very different way.

About what led to the point of no return.

About how strong but at the same time selfish the act has been, the person has been.

Was there something I could have done differently – or how much do we actually have control over this kind of things? (the answer is: very little)

How is becomes was.

One thinks of what happens after death, if there’s a place for the deceased to go to and if that place looks like Nangijala, the land of campfires and storytelling as depicted in Astrid Lindgren’s book The Brothers Lionheart.

About how we humans consume mystery and murder novels, have no trouble watching Game of Thrones or Handmaid’s Tale where people are shot, hanged, beaten, or killed with a sword or a bow or by a monstrous beast. How we voluntarily watch people die and suffer in TV-series and movies when the reality of someone dying is so horrible. It’s a weird conflict.

And one thinks about the statistics. How both the person who passed away and oneself become a part of the statistics on (1) young people who decide to take their own lives and (2) on people who know someone who has done it. And how crap that is, especially when one knows the specific statistics in Finland.

Lastly, and this is a more consoling thought, one thinks about stoicism and how a person has no or very little control over other people’s choices. I can only appreciate this person’s will and believe he is better now.

And remember that the best cure to deal with death is to live; to be active, to try new things, meet new people, stick to what gives meaning to one’s life and remember the ones who have left this world with warmth.

A Writerly Update

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Some ten months ago, I remember writing how sad it was not to be able to be a full-time writer after being one during the summer months. The reason for it was simple: in September, I was forced to start dedicating my afternoons for research on digital volunteerism and crisis communication instead of writing more of Yellow Tails or blog posts.

Of course, I did switch those writing hours in the afternoon for the big thesis project, so it was for ’my own good’ – but still, it didn’t feel right.

Fast-forward to ten months later and this Thursday, I can now declare myself a full-time writer again. Hooray! As the thesis has been accepted and the university has confirmed that I will be graduating, I can dedicate my days to writing again.

And I can assure you that is precisely what I have been doing.

A Writer’s Day

I start my day with clearing my head from the thoughts that swirl around in my mind by writing my journal. In that way, I have a clean slate and can dedicate my energy to my character’s ideas, thoughts and feelings, and write those on the page instead of getting influenced by my own personal thoughts.

After writing my journal entry, I eat breakfast, make some coffee and open my computer. Mondays are usually the day when I write the blog post of the week. On other mornings from Tuesday to Friday or, in best case scenario, Saturday, I focus on one of my creative fiction projects. One of them is my dear Yellow Tails (which I’ve finally started re-writing, super excited to share you some details later!) and the other one is a lengthy fan fiction story I’ve been working on for the past month.

In the afternoon, I try to keep on writing but this time on the one I didn’t work on in the morning. Usually, in the afternoons, it’s the fan fiction project I work on because I tend to choose to give my mornings, i.e. my best writing time, to Yellow Tails.

And, as the evening comes, I tend to dedicate some time to reading other writers’ fan fiction stories and comment on them, giving them some feedback on their writing. This way, I’m taking in some new stories, other styles of writing and at the same time, improving my own writing skills by looking at what makes writing good.

Love for Every Moment

As you can see, most of my daily hours go to writing. I don’t know how many words I manage to write per day, maybe everything between 1,500 and 3,000 which isn’t that much – but still, it keeps me busy all day long.

And I love every single minute of it. I just don’t get tired of it! When I’m not writing the fan fiction project, my mind is going back to the story, wanting to keep on plotting, and when I’m not writing Yellow Tails I’m almost longing to return to my own, self-created characters and wanting to tell their story (again, yes, but only this time better).

My writerly days and the love and the continuing thirst I have for them make me feel two things: one is this weird feeling of knowing that for so many years, I was willing to consider writing as only a hobby or even something I used to do when I was little but not any more.

How wrong was I? Because the other feeling I have is pure happiness and some kind of serenity for the fact that, in a way, I have returned to my childhood dream and my roots by becoming a full-time writer.

And that is something not just any job can give.

Thoughts on Graduating

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I will be graduating in a few weeks.

When I get my Master’s Degree, it means that the eighteen consecutive years of my education come to an end. The journey started when I was seven years old and ends when I turn 25.

It feels weird to know that, in the future, I will be doing something completely different after such a long time of doing exams, completing reading lists and writing essays. It feels liberating, for sure, but also weird.

A new chapter is beginning. But what kind of chapter?

Six Years of Political Science

The first nine years of schooling are compulsory in Finland. After those years one can continue to high school or vocational school and after that, if one prefers, get a degree at a university or a vocational university. Both are optional but the majority decides to keep studying until they have a degree in something. Partly because it’s highly valued in the society and everyone is encouraged to get a degree, and partly because the education is free and most often of high quality.

I, too, have taken the opportunity to get a degree at a university in Finland.

My studies at the university have taken six years – but what exactly have those years entailed? Intensive studying at a library, a cup of coffee every afternoon to keep those caffeine levels high, feverish essay-writing a few hours before the deadline? Yes, sometimes. But even more than that.

Of those six years, four months were spent abroad studying Political Science and Sociology in Galway, Ireland as an exchange student. After that, I did a six-month internship at an organization. One year was spent in another city up North studying Journalism for a full year, followed by another internship at the local radio station.

During this time, I have taken up responsibilities such as being the chief editor for a magazine and been involved in different courses and trainings.

However, I’ve gained so much more than just a degree during these past six years.

Knowledge of Value

In addition to the life-changing event of meeting my partner during my studies through a friend, I’ve also developed as a person during these past years. Much of the progress has been recorded on this blog.

When I started at the university, I was depressed and only had a few routines to keep me going. I wasn’t a healthy eater, didn’t enjoy physical training that much and had difficulties getting friends at school. Looking back at that person now, six years later, I barely recognize myself. I went through a few years of therapy where I learned why I act the way I do (a development that has continued even after that), and during the past couple of years I’ve really learned to eat healthy and enjoy physical exercise.

I’ve also gained a new perspective on my life and learned to question and redefine my own values. I have a better understanding of what I want to do with my life, what and who I want to be. I discovered the pleasure of writing again after six long years of not writing.

I’m quite certain of the fact that even though these six years result in a diploma valued by the society, my personal development, and the knowledge and perspective on life and values I’ve gained are far more valuable than finishing a degree.

A bold thing to say, perhaps, but for me, it is the truth. I don’t quite know what I’ll do with a diploma – but I do know what I want to do with my life.

A New Phase

As this chapter in my life, the chapter of education, is coming to an end, I’ve been thinking about the things I’m leaving behind but also the new ones I am gaining.

Around me, I see many fellow students feeling reluctant to leave the life of a student – and for a reason. I’m leaving behind the freedom of being a student where one gets to decide when and where one studies and what courses. I’m letting go the monthly subsidies the state offers to students. And I’m letting go the daily discounted lunches and dinners with friends at student cafés.

All these things have been wonderful and I understand why many are unwilling to speed up their graduation, but I believe there is so much more to life than this comfortable, easy way of living.

Graduating will give me a different kind of freedom than the one of a student. It will also come with different kind of responsibilities. It will give me a bit more independence and a wider view on life outside the secure walls of the academic world. By graduating I am opening the world and finding out the different opportunities it has to offer.

There will be questions, there will be a harsher reality waiting for me, but I believe I’m ready for it.