On Halloween this year I turned thirty years old. I held a ceremony in Jon Trayner's back garden, where I burnt the notebooks I'd been keeping for the past fifteen years. It marked half a lifetime of learning to be a writer. Before burning each one I spoke a little about the period in which it was written and I read an extract from all but one of them.
Two days later I left England for Norway, to spend at least a year living in Nord Troms in the arctic circle. A place I have never been before and have difficulty even imagining. Latitude 69.23.
Marthe and I spent last night staying with my in-laws in Trondheim. I couldn't sleep, and some time after midnight I was looking out of the window at the pitch darkness, trying to figure out what it will be like to know the sun isn't going to rise in the morning. Tomorrow at midday we'll take the boat from Trondheim, and around three days later we'll arrive in Nordreisa. Then we'll begin to learn about life in the far north. That's what this blog is going to be about.
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