The lady doth protest too much, methinks

23 Jun

And I will keep telling you – I am not dead yet! But since there is no time for real blog posts and stuff, I’ll leave you with a quick update on all the things I may or may not have been up to.

* I lost another 2kg and rewarded myself by buying a new running T-shirt and a book with freerunning exercises. Had anyone told me I would look forward to buying that kind of stuff ten years ago, I’d have thought about punching them and abandoned the idea because of the effort.

* Last Saturday I participated in a “Race for the cure” 5K and finished in 27 minutes (give or take – but definitely less than 30!).

* I remembered to think of summer solstice! Not that I did anything special besidses lighting a few yellow and orange candles and complaining about the rain, but I remembered!

What else is new? We have a new boss with new ideas and rules and complications, but that should settle within a few weeks. And I have been writing and plotting and scheming, and I have wonderful ideas for weird stories. Circus, monsters, prostitution – what’s not to love?

I’ll leave you with a picture of Ronja trying to summon a cat demon.


Honestly, I can’t sit down for a ritual without having cats all over the altar. But they are cute. ^^

Full days – full of magic and tentacles

9 Jun

Time flies by when you are having fun. Or when you’re busy trying not to drown in all your plans, actions, appointments, must-dos, …

As usual, I am busy working, writing and running. Also, I am eating tons of strawberries and planning more stories to tell – as soon as I have the time for it. One of them will contain this funny fellow:


This is Bob. He is a tentacle alien from another dimension – and a stand-up comedian. I hope to find out, over the course of the next months, how he and Lusty Andrea are trying to save the world from a tentacle invasion.

Please don’t get your crazy on!

1 Jun

At least not in my e-mail inbox …

You know me, a bit. I am not the most secretive person, and quite trusting – other people might call it “stupid”. Anyway, I love meeting new people, exchanging ideas and learning new things about places and ideas I have never explored before.

Which is why, for quite some time, my e-mail address has been up on some pagan penpal page – really, I don’t even recall the address anymore. And over several years I have met a few nice people there. Every now and then, however, you stumble upon a bad apple. Like in this example:

Hatemail 1 Hatemail 2 Hatemail 3 Hatemail 4

A … let’s say, “elderly gentleman” from North Carolina, after almost a year of sufficiently pleasant communication by e-mail, snapped over a minor disagreement and has started sending me “interesting” mail. The pictures are screenshots of my e-mail account. I contacted his e-mail service with a complaint and the screenshots (minus the black bars) and hopefully got his e-mail account blocked, at least temporarily. So why am I sharing this with you? Partly outrage, partly a need to share with you why I may be less open at the moment than usual. I refuse to be cowed into hiding, but I admit – when, the very same day I received the latest piece of hatemail I got another request via the same platform (from someone with a very similarly built e-mail address at the same provider), I decided to not delve into any new communication at the moment. After all, paranoia is just another word for longevity, right?

Apart from this mess, life is just peachy.

This can’t go on!

7 May

Believe it or not, I missed Beltane. The horror! One of my favorite holidays and the one I used to feel in my blood days before it was upon us. Slipped between work, everyday life and deadlines. This is a post by a very, very sad witch.

In the past I have repeatedly said that things need to change. Witching tends to take a back seat when life gets busy, but that is not the way I want it – and most of all, not the way I need it.

Over the next few days I hope to make a few changes – rearrange my home office, take the altar from the bedroom to said office, schedule the coming weeks around moons and seasons.

You see, I am a hypocrite. From my pedestal (which I carefully dusted), I preach to all kinds of people who care or care not that, as women and witches and artists, we should not even try to “have it all”. You know: A clean flat AND a great carreer AND a busy social life AND a great body. I keep telling people that it is okay to compromise. Let the dust sit for a few days, it won’t rise and kill you (unless a spell goes bad). Tell people you don’t have time for coktails to observe that special full moon instead. Skip the workout.

Because I *know* that everyone only gets 24 hours in a day. I tried applying for more, or for a clone to take some of the more mundane tasks, but to no avail. And so I hurry from task to task – kitchen, office, grocery store, office, kitchen, cocktail bar, more office – and try to HAVE it all and DO it all and IMPRESS them all. And on top I try to make it seem like such a fucking easy task. “Oh, that fourteen-layer cake with the marchpane Notre Dame on top? I qhipped it up before breakfast, no biggie. The windows are from spun sugar, totally easy!”

I know you are laughing. And I bet from the outside it looks funny. Might even make a great sitcom. But while I am in the middle of this mess I keep creating around me, I would like to take a few minutes out of the day to beat myself over the head with something heavy. Good thing I have to get that writing assignment done first and cook dinner and tomorrow’s lunch from scratch, no time for self-inflicted wisdom.

Anyway, I will let you know how it goes. If I ever get around to full-time witchy blogging again. Have fun! And don’t forget, words of wisdom spoken from a dusty crate you did NOT build yourself are almost as impressive.

Holiday plans

21 Apr

Yesterda marked the beginning of our two-week holiday. We don’t have any big plans – meet a few friends, watch a movie, go hiking – but I made one decision: I won’t wear any outfit suitable for the office! Yesterday I took the car to the repair shop and myself to the dentist, wearing pink shorts and a T-shirt with a Heavy Metal print. Today’s dress has a neckline that almost reveals my belly button (since there is no reasonable amount of boob to obscure the view). I totally need more hippie skirts and inappropriate tank tops. And I promise, the bikini will be reserved for the balcony – at least until the open air swimming season starts!

Introduce your muse: A day by the sea

10 Apr

How better to introduce my muse than to show you what she does to me? This is the start of “Witch’s Skin” – the scene that turned an idea I had had for ages into an actual story. Some people claim their muse speaks to them, or sings. Mine shows me stuff. She takes me to places I would never go on my own, puts me into other people’s heads and makes me roar with laughter when I realize that the solution to all my writing problems has been waiting in her claws all along. And now I will let her take you on a journey…



Source (Dieter Draxel)

Imagine a day by the sea.

Cloud bellies are caressing the ocean close to the horizon. Wet veils are riding the waves. A pungent smell of salt water and algae takes your breath away. Maybe seagulls are screaming in the distance, but it is hard to tell against the roaring of the ocean. Wave by wave attacks the shore. Returning to their siblings, they leave faint changes in the landscape.

Imagine the wind pressing against your naked body. You are alone. Behind you, giant cliffs are soaring towards the sky. The beach is only a few paces wide. You have left your belongings secured safely behind a few rocks to keep it from being swept away. There is no need to be afraid of thieves. This is a hiding place for lovers and those that need solitude, hardly to be reached by land.

This is the safety you need. Sea spray engulfs your body. A wave licks across your legs, reaching your knees, and you shudder. The cold leaves the fine hair on your arms standing on end. You realize how open you are to everything, how vulnerable. The wind tears your hair. Every time he rests, a warm caress rises from the water surface. you feel protected, accepted. Nothing can happen to you in this place. Your plights hardly ever allow you a day spent here, on your own, crept away from duties and watching eyes. This is what makes your moments at the beach so valuable.

In the west, fingers of sunlight stab holes into the clouds. Soon night will fall. For hours you have been on your own, except for the birds in the distance. You fall back onto the wet sand. Tiny crystals stick to your skin. A wave washes over you, tickling the inside of your thigh. You come up for air, and water enters your mouth and nose. The ocean lifts you from the sand, and for a moment you are weightless. As the fingers of the waves retreat, you find yourself missing them. They are familiar. The wind sweeps over you like a hungry lover. At the same time the last trickles of water under your body return to the sea. Your back leaves an impression in the sand. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you see the next wave racing towards you, knocking the wind out of your body, and suddenly you have had enough. You jump up, and the watery fingers only reach your ankles. With sand clinging to your hair, your hurry back into the protective embrace of the cliffs.

Approximately three quarters of the world are covered by salt water, or that is what they have told you. It is your natural element. Dry land is forbidden to you. You do not think about having to go home soon. Every moment in your hidden cove is an eternity in itself, like the dream of a sleeping sea snake. As long as she does not move, you are safe.

The clouds are turning darker – blue, purple, almost black, with sulfur edges. Lighning tears the sky, kissing the waves in the distance. Then it starts to rain. Fine needles stab your skin and wash sand from your hair and shoulders. The ocean smell dissipates, leaving behind another scent, of fresh water and green grass. Suddenly you start missing home. You run towards the waves once more, throwing yourself at the ocean. At the end of summer the water has been kissed by sun and is warm like blood. Its whooshing is a magic song, a siren call meant just for you. A strand of hair sticks to your face, almost black with wetness, pouring a salty rivulet over your parched lips. The rain grows stronger, increasing the temperature difference of air and water. Thunder reverberates through your bones. You throw your head back and float, just a second, before your feet touch the soft ground again. You know it is time to leave. Time to return to everyday duties, far from adventures and magical borders. Your other personality engulfs you like a custom-tailored dress. You leave the cove, never looking back even once.

And now imagine all this is taken from you.


By the way, “Witch’s Skin” is the third of Helena’s adventures with “Magic behind the mountains”. I have barely just started translating, so please don’t hold your breath – I don’t want you to pass out! Why don’t you go and read “All Souls’ Children” and “Mirror Lake” for now? ^^

Mirror Lake print

28 Mar

960290_527158790758708_714881489288739232_nThis morning, my print books arrived! First good thing to happen this weekend, since remaining sober at our favorite cocktail bar resulted in an attack from the stomach bug from hell. I don’t know what it is, but I should have battled it with booze! At first I tried to tough it out at the office, but called Richard after two hours so he’d take me to the doctor’s office instead. Then spent the whole Friday on the sofa, dozing, sometimes puking, not drinking enough and barely eating anything all day – except for some chocolate pudding and sweet raisin rolls with Gouda cheese later in the evening. Once I felt slightly better, Richard helped me to the bedroom at three in the morning.

The parcel arrived at eight, leaving me with only five hours of sleep. But my stomach is slightly better, the books look great and the cats love the packaging material (which they have spread through the hallway at this point). Ever since I have dozed, looked at the manuscript of a friend (whose first book Hedge Games (Rule of Thorns, book 1) you should totally buy), had pizza with ham and pineapple for breakfast and drunk my first cup of coffee since Thursday night. We still have to go grocery shopping, but apart from that I plan to remain as lazy as possible.

So, what are your plans for the weekend?


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