Novelist
First I played. Built huts out of branches and leaves. Made bows and arrows, hacking flint for arrowheads. Collected flowers to make tea or use the sap to heal wounds and insect-bites. Weaving, knitting, braiding belts, vests and moccasins. Drawing plans for the days of play in the woods. Being most days a Cherokee boy called Paw. Seamlessly disregarding my Danish gender, blonde hair and blue eyes.
Then I started writing. Songs, stories, the dreams I was dreaming at night, and dreams of the days too.
When I was 22 my first novel was published and my career as a professional writer started. From then on playing got harder.
But even though I have only published two novels in the space of 30 years, the novel is still the artform that I feel most closely connected to. The genre in which I am working towards one day being able to express the polyphonic magic of the world as I see it.
Thanks to somatics coach Rachel Blackman for the juicy explorative conversation from which you will find bits and pieces spread around all over these pages.