Midday in Sommarøy, a tiny island above the Arctic Circle. I love the bluish-gray light that is so characteristic for the days that the sun doesn’t rise above the horizon. This one was a particularly cold day, with a polar wind blustering in. We inched past an elk, our studded tires biting into the black ice. The elk was grazing quietly, confidently, still sure of its protection against the elements. Not a few minutes later it would skid the black ice like a child skating for the first time.
It reminded me of my first steps into the writing world, when every dash of the pen made me feel like I could skid and lose balance. Since, I have had three novels and 35 short stories published, and it feels like I have found my footing. And yet, sometimes when thoughts come but words fail, it’s like skating for the first time. The elk reminded me of that delicate balance between thoughts and the actual words you write.
Mina Witteman 