About writing

Quite recently this Norwegian singer Björn Eidsvåg has released a new single called “Floden” (“The River”) a bit further down I’ll give you a rough translation of the lyrics (which not in ANYWAY does these lyrics justice because they are some of the greatest lyrics I’ve heard in a very very long time). The more I’ve been listening to this song, the more it’s grown on me and now I absolutely love it.

I gather that to most people this is a song about love and how hard it can actually be to love someone, and I guess I haven’t really given it that much thought because the whole song, melody lyrics and all have just been so beautiful to me that I’ve just sort of allowed myself to be lost in the song and the feeling it’s giving me. Then yesterday on the bus back from Oslo it came up on my iPod and suddenly it hit me, to me this is not a song about love, well, not love in the traditional sense anyway, between people – to me, this is a song that describes how I feel about my writing.

It describes so perfectly how hard it is quite often to sit down and write, and at the same time that feeling of joy and accomplishment, fulfilment when I look at something I’ve just written and think “wow, this is actually quite good”. When I listen to this song it makes me think of all those times I’ve dreaded sitting down to write because the idea in my head is so great, so good, so amazing – that I can’t even begin to imagine how on earth I’m going to be able to do it justice on paper. And this dread, this fear of not being able to get it right, it can keep me from writing for days even weeks at a time, it can make me sick and drive me into a state of apathy where life just passes me by and I’m unable to do anything useful just because this idea is haunting me and I don’t dare to work with it on paper. And then, one day, I wake up, and I just tell myself this is the day, this is where it all starts, and I sit down with a pen and paper, or by the computer (this depends on what kind of story it is, sometimes one thing feels right, sometimes the other) and I start writing, and the words come to me. Often they’re bad words and bad sentences to start with, and I agonise, sometimes I’m almost in tears because I can’t do it and I get up and walk away, but I come back and try again. And after lots of hard work, and tears and curses and feelings of helplessness and hopelessness- times when I’ve thought I’m never ever going to be able to write a word worth reading again, then suddenly, there’s a sentence, a whole paragraph that makes sense. When I read it through it feels so right, it gives me that special feeling that says that this, this is worth something, and I just know that there will be people who will get something from reading this – and then everything is perfect. It is the greatest highs of all, no drugs can ever bring you to that level, that joy, that sense of perfection… and then I move on to the next paragraph, the next chapter, the next story and I’m in the deepest valley again where all the words are of the wrong kind.

What I have learnt from this is that very rarely the right words will come to me when I first have a go at writing a story, often they’re not even there for the second or third draft either, but by the time I get to the fourth draft there will usually be something, parts of it that give me that great feeling – and then it’s just so completely worth it. Not writing because I fear that I won’t be able to doesn’t get me anywhere. Taking weeks off from writing just because I’m afraid doesn’t make the actual writing any easier, and the sooner I sit down to write – the sooner I’ll probably get to that good place, that great place where things seem to be just perfect. So why don’t I force myself to sit down and write more often, why don’t I just do it when I know that eventually this will bring me to that great place? I guess for all the same reasons that people are afraid to really give in and love somebody, they know that when it’s good it will be very good, but before and even after you get to that it will also be a lot of pain, it always is.

I’ve taken down the lyrics in Norwegian by listening to the song, so they might not be perfectly correct but I think they’re pretty close, and then I’ve given a very rough translation to give you English speaking people an idea of what the song says.

Det renner ei elv, ei duvande flod gjennom livet mitt
eg fylles av mildhet og fred når eg vasse i sivet ditt
og kvar gong eg våge å bade i deg blir eg heil og rein
og eg kjenner eit lindrande gys gå gjennom marg og bein

Eg lure no på koffor bade eg ikkje meir i deg
Koffor koffor når eg kjenner deg goda du gjer med meg
Det kan nestan virka som om eg prøver å unngå deg
og er fælen og redd for nåden og gleda du skjenke meg
Forunderleg Forunderleg

Det finnast ei brønn, ei kjella til liv innom meg ein plass
kjærleik er navnet og blikket blir klart ved det minste glass
og kvar gong eg våge å drikka av deg blir eg heil og rein
og eg kjenner eit lindrande gys gå gjennom marg og bein

Eg lure no på koffor drikk eg ikkje meir av deg
Koffor koffor når eg kjenner det goda du gjer med meg
Det kan nesten virka som om eg prøver å unngå deg
og er fælen og redd for nåden og gleda du skjenke meg
Forunderleg Forunderleg

Eg vil trossa den motstånd eg har mot å ta i mot det som er godt
Det er ikkje lurt å gå rundt å sjå etter det som ein alt har fått

Eg lure no på koffor bade eg ikkje meir i deg
koffor koffor når eg kjenner det goda du gjer med meg
Det kan nesten virka som om eg prøver å unngå deg
Og er fælen og redd for nåden og gleda du skjenke meg
Forunderleg Forunderleg

And here’s my translation which is a really rough and a directly line by line translation of the lyrics, and I will repeat this translation doesn’t do these lyrics justice at all, because to do that I would have to be a poet, and I’m not, but I still want to give all of you who don’t speak Norwegian an idea of what the song is about. And of course the Norwegian lyrics rhyme, and my translation doesn’t so you wouldn’t be able to sing it along with the melody, but if you at some point get the chance to listen to this song, in Norwegian, at least you’ll know what it is about.

Through my life runs a stream, a great flowing river
I’m filled with calmness and peace every time I wade through your rush
and every time I dare to bathe in you I end up complete and clean
and I feel a healing shiver that runs through my marrow and bones

I wonder why I don’t more often bathe in you
Why Why when I feel the good that you do to me
It might almost seem as if I’m trying to avoid you
and I’m worried and afraid of the mercy and joy that you give to me
Strange so strange

There is a well, a source to life within me somewhere
love is its name and my sight goes clear by the smallest glass
and every time I dare to drink from you I end up complete and clean
and I feel a healing shiver that runs through my marrow and bones

I wonder why I don’t more often drink from you
Why Why when I feel the good that you do to me
It might almost seem as if I’m trying to avoid you
and I’m worried and afraid of the mercy and joy that you give to me
Strange so strange

I will defy the resistance I feel towards receiving everything good
It’s not smart to walk around just seeing everything you’ve already got

I wonder why I don’t more often bathe in you
Why Why when I feel the good that you do to me
It might almost seem as if I’m trying to avoid you
and I’m worried and afraid of the mercy and joy that you give to me
Strange so strange


And that’s what “Floden” means to me.