Wheel of life and circles of centuries

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

I spent most of yesterday, far out in the night, and most of today writing this story. It just had to be told. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

Writing this story, and working with the language before I post it raised some questions. I am after all Norwegian, and English is not my native language. There is possible to write and desribe things differently in English than in Norwegian, I love this freedom this language gives me. But then, writing in English (And I hope to write in US English), also take away some of the way I use the language in Norwegian. In my strive to write good english, I discovered that I, being Norwegian, didn't master the language as well as I wanted (Believe it or not, I am somewhat a wordnerd, and being a designer as well, I need the language to paint the image exactely as I want...). So what I have done in this story, is that although I use english words, and the freedom the english language gives me, I have kept my Norwegian tone as well. I think I will have a more complete language if I combine the two, rather than trying to be something that I am not (American). (The keeping the norwegian-thing is mostly gramatical, like using more commas than you americans would. We basically never use semicolon in norwegian etc...)

Please, write a little comment on this. Does it work writing this way?

I thought this was a great story experementing in - placing them in Norway and all. What better story to have the Norwegian feel to?

DISCLAIMER: I own no one in this story, and I certainly make no money on them.
Warnings: None, unless you are extremely afraid of fluff!
Rating: This is as safe as it can be.
A/N: I can’t help but bringing my favorite boys to my hometown. You must all forgive me for placing them in the hotel where I got married, walking the woods I take my strolls, and visiting my favorite places of this place where I was born and raised. You must also forgive me for being so detailed in description and history (Not really though, because I could have elaborated much more). I am very proud of my own country's history and culture, and in most other stories, placed in US, I must be vague on details, because I don’t have the knowledge. I am embracing this opportunity to give accurate descriptions. Both Losby and Vigelandsparken is some of my favourite places. This is where I relax, and recharge.
Explanations to this story:
LØRENSKOG = a municipality just outside Oslo, the capital of Norway
GODS = gods is the Norwegian term for Manor
THE VIGELAND PARK =  212 sculptures are all modeled in full size by Gustav Vigeland. He also designed the architectural setting and the layout of the grounds. The sculptures are placed on an 850 meter long axis divided into 5 main units: Main Entrance, The Bridge with the children's playground, The Fountain, The Monolith Plateau and The Wheel of Life.

Thank you anmani for betaing!

A September-tinted Lørenskog blushes in crimson, ochre and orange as Nick steps out in the refreshingly cool air. The Losby Gods Hotel paints a picture of old times and Nick feel honored that he can join into the line of guests staying at this historical place.  The most prominent guest that has stayed here would probably be The Swedish King in early 19th century. King Karl Johan, visited the original owner of this property, a property built up of money made on the sawmill industry and timber from the rich woods and rivers surrounding the area. There is not a large quantum of timber being processed here nowadays, but small amount of recently cut timber being stacked in the borderline of forest still share the scent of fresh resin from the orange bleeding trees. Nick is sure the hostess of the Manor in early 19th century took good care of the then current Swedish King, but it was not until 100 years later that the most generous hostess occupied this household.

Kathrine Boeck ran the Manor along with her husband, the chairman of Lørenskog, during the intense time of political struggle for independence in early nineteenth hundred. She probably even held a dinner in honor of Norway gaining it’s independence from Sweden in 1905, after being in union with Sweden or Denmark for centuries. She ran the Manor alone for 22 years after her husband passed away in 1908. After her death in 1959, and even after the Manor was turned into a hotel, her present is still felt. You read me correctly: felt! When you smell the scent of chamomile, you know Kathrine is passing the room. There is no need to be afraid though, Kathrine always took good care of her guests, and she still does today.

The King was visiting in 1805 and the country's independence celebrated in 1905, the latter event is honoured by naming one of the suite's by the name of the then new-elected king: King Haakon VII , and this is the grand suite they have slept in this night. None of these centennial events can stand up for the personal importance of the event taken place in 2005 though. Although the list of prominent guests contains many great names, Nick can not find a finer name than Gregory Hojem Stokes Sanders (Oh what a long name he has, but stubborn as he is, he refuses to give any of them up), his husband; his newlywed husband. His husband of 26 hours, not that he is counting. (Who is he kidding, off course he is).  For Nick, the only important moment is this: September 19th 2005. The moment Greg said JA.

The room was small, and decorated in rustic white that blended with the autumn bleeding in through the windows from the outside. They had chosen one of the small rooms, since they had just a few guests here, only the two law-prohibited witnesses to the marriage. Greg’s cousin Øystein and a childhood friend of Greg from his summers in Norway, Thorstein, did the honor. Øystein has spent many vacations in Las Vegas, visiting Greg, and had become good friends with Nick as well. It was a natural choice of best man, when the marriage elsewhere were held in secret, except for the immediate family,  and far away from the home they shared, and the town they shared with their friends. Thorstein is one of those who Greg always has felt he could confide in, and a friend Greg would hate to leave out of his wedding.

They had decided to marry in Norway. Greg holding a Norwegian citizenship made it possible, and marrying in Norway felt strangely right. They were alone here and yet surrounded with familiar history, at least familiar to one of them.
The judge was standing in front of them, greeting them with an honest smile, and dressed in a black judge coat. He spoke gentle words of the importance of treating each other with respect, caring for each other and respecting each others personal space.
Then he moved on to the legally binding, and most important part of the ceremony.

”Do you, Nicholas Stokes, take this man, Gregory, who stands by your side, as your lawfully wedded partner?”
“I do”
“And do you promise to love and honor him, and stand by his side. In good days and in bad, in sickness and in health, till death do you apart?
”I do”

 “Så spør jeg deg, Gregory Hojem Sanders, tar du denne mann, Nicolas, som står ved din side, til din rette partner?”
”Ja” Greg answered, voice stern, and eyes fixed on Nick.
“Lover du å elske og ære ham, og stå ved hans side. I gode og onde dager, i sykdom og i helse, til døden skiller dere ad?
”Ja”

”Then I pronounces you as lawfully wedded partners. Now, you and your witnesses must sign this paper, the partnership certificate. Then, when I sign this and stamp it with the official stamp, it is officially documented that you two are indeed partners.”
 Nick took the pen and signed, for the first time, his new name: Nicholas Stokes Sanders, leaving the pen for Greg to sign: Gregory Hojem Stokes Sanders. At the same time, he could swear the scent of chamomile swiftly lingering in the air, and Nick felt a calm breeze of peace fill his heart.

Greg bounces up behind him gives him a hug from behind. “Hi” he says smiling.
“Hi” Nick answer back, tucking the jacket closer. The temperature is 15 C, but the wind-chill makes it closer to 8 C. “Ready?”
“Yes, are you?”
“Sure. You looked a bit distant though, were you dreaming?”
“Only of you and the amazing history we are part of. I am so happy somewhere along the line of history, your grandparents decided to move to the USA, and that you, in your enthusiastic path through the world of chemistry decided to come to Las Vegas. I can’t believe that a family line that started here, so far away from my Texas, has crossed my path and that you, incredible, wonderful you, are now my family.”
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself”
Nick laughs at his younger husband as he is being grasped by his hand and dragged towards their rental car. “Well, thank you!”
”You’re welcome. And Nick,” Greg swirls around facing him. “I am happy about it too.” The time stops, but only for a second, witch is the amount of time Greg can possibly stand still. He is already jumping down the pavement, while Nick holds back a moment, drinking in the sight of a live and beautiful man that he can call his own.
”Coming?” Greg shouts out, and Nick runs to catch up with him.

Parking their car in a narrow street next to the Dutch embassy they only have a short walk to the Vigeland Park. Greg has been talking about the park for a long time, and although Nick can’t see the importance of visiting a sculpture park, he simply can not deny Greg a wish as large as this. At least he get to walk along with his husband (oh how he loves the sound of that word) and if he will not find the sculptures to be interesting, will have Greg to lay his eyes on. Greg however has many times mentioned this park he has often visited on his summers in Norway as a kid. How he used to play among the huge stone men, the naked men (and women, but he was mostly fascinated by the men) and how he always wondered what the men was thinking, and how they all felt about being displayed totally nude.

All doubts about having a good time is laid to rest as he enter the magnificent gates. A view of a bronze and granite landscape stretches out before his eyes. The bridge decorated with relatively small bronze sculptures, the fountain surrounded by the life stages, and at the horizon, placed on a higher level, reached by stairs on every side, stands the high risen monolith. Even behind that, currently shielded, is the wheel of life. Breathtaking. Stunning. Silent. He suddenly realize the oddest thing, Greg is quiet. Greg is not even looking at the park; Greg is facing him, looking straight at him, tears in his eyes. “Welcome to my childhoods Norway, Nicky”.

Nicky swallow a piece of Greg’s soul and grow closer to his spouse.

“Com’ere” Nick says, his voice thick with love, lust and accent.
He drags his man into his embrace, mouths collides in hungry kiss. Desperate. Passionate. Feeding each others hunger. Cold fingers caress a smooth neck, teeth biting, tasting and teasing a lower lip. “God, I love you so much”
”Love you too, Nicky.” Greg leans in even more before he breaks the kiss and shifts the embrace into a wholehearted hug. “We have to stop before we get arrested. We’ll have the hotel room for yet another week, plenty of time to take this further.”

Along with sparsely spread groups of tourists they start the walk across the hundred meter long bridge. Surrounded by 58 sculptures of bronze, Nick feel the stern grip of Greg’s hand. Arriving at the middle of the bridge, Nick focuses on the fountain in front of him, while Greg stops suddenly pointing at a sculpture on the rail to their right.
”Look,” he says, “Sinnataggen”
“Sinna- what?” Nick looks at him with a confused face.
“Sinnataggen. ‘The Angry Boy’, the most famous sculpture of them all.” Rather small in size, but mighty in sight; angry, and vivid. Nick can just imagine what Greg looked like at that age, and with a smile in his eyes and voice he turns towards his husband (Still loving that word).
“I bet you looked just as angry when you didn’t get what you wanted”.
“He he, yeah, I had my moments.” He agrees.
”You still do” Nick answers, and for that he is rewarded with a slap on his upper arm.
“Hey!”
“Hey yourself, we are on our honeymoon, remember? No hitting!”
“And biting?” Puppy eyes are peering into his soul.
”Biting is okay, but only in bed”
“Promises, promises” Smirking Greg starts walking again.
“Greg?”
”Yeah.” The young man turns around.
“Have you ever considered having children?”
“Yes”
“Yes?”
”Not right now. I mean, I have never been thinking ‘I want to have children right now’, and there has never been anyone to have children with. Do you want to have children?”
“I have always indented to. You know, settling down with a nice little wife and two children.”
“I am not so sure I'll let you have your nice little wife.”
”No, I have enough with you, thank you!”

One thing he knows for sure though, he never regrets the decision he made the day he decided to let Greg into his life, instead of the wife his family asked for.

The air was thick. He sat amongst those who loved him the most and was his immediate family, the people who had raised him and had given him life. And he felt sick. Sweat in his palms, nauseous.  The same conversation as always, but this time he would give them another answer.

“So Nicholas, when will you bring a nice girl home to marry?”
Here we go…
“Never”
The shock of someone actually changing the script startled them all.
“What do you mean, never?”
”I will never bring home a nice girl to marry her.”
“You will never bring her home, or you will never marry her?” His youngest sister shot in her question.
“I will never bring home a girl to marry her.”
”WHAT?”
This time there was many voices to raise the question.
“Are you saying…” His father never finished the sentence.
”…you are gay…” his sister continued.
Silence filled the air, but Nick met their eyes and confirmed their question.
“Well,” he continued, “technically I am bisexual, but I am in love with a man.”
 
“Mom,” Nick whispered following his crying mother into the kitchen, “I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you!” Nick was crying as well.
”Hurt?”
”I know you must be disappointed in me. You wanted me to marry and have kids, and now I tell you that I love a man.”
”Oh, baby. Sweetheart, I am not hurt. Oh my God, never believe that. You can never disappoint me.”
“You are crying mom, what am I to believe?”
”It is I that am sorry. It is I that has let you down!”
”No, you have…”
“SShh, sweatheart. Let me finish.” She put a finger over his mouth to silence him, while stroking his cheek with the other hand. “I am so sorry you have felt you had to carry this alone. I cannot even start to understand the pressure we have put on you, the weight we have forced you to carry, when you have silently carried the truth. I am so sorry you didn’t think you could tell me this. ”
“Mom”, his voice cracked, and he pulled her into his embrace, “I love you. I just wanted to be the best son I could. I didn’t know how to tell you. And I was hoping I would fall in love with a girl, and then I wouldn’t have to tell you.”
”But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t. I found someone that is so special, so valuable, and so right for me, and he is worth telling it to the world if I have to.”
“So, who is he?”
”Greg.”
”Greg? The labtech you keep talking about? Your friend?”
”That very Greg.”
”Well, at least you make sure your mom doesn’t have to worry you just rushed into something then.” The laughter broke the air. “I am happy for you Nick. And believe me, there is nothing to be worried about! Now, let’s have some cake, shall we?”

Leaving the bridge, Nick can feel the mist from the fountain caressing his skin with ice-cold fingers. He leans into its caress and walks towards the green- clad bronze figures forming groups of trees surrounding the cascading water. Beneath the crown of the trees the life of man, from cradle to grave, unfolds. Walking around the fountain he follows man from birth, through life, to death. After a tree group with skeleton, follows a tree full of children. From death arises new life. He let the impression brush over him as he take in the view of Greg walking the labyrinth, laid in black and white granite mosaic all the way around the fountain. From a distance, when you don’t see the outlines of the labyrinth, Greg looks like a total maniac. But Nick knows that when Greg has put something in his head, like walking the entire 1800 square meter, forming almost a 3000 meter path, Nick just have to wait. And although 3000 meter walking takes some time, Nick knows better than to rush him. If he does, Greg will be so much more determined to finish it, if he stays silent, Greg just might give up.  

“So, Greg”, he yells out for him.
Greg lifts his head shortly from the deep concentration on the path to look at him for a brief second. “Yeah” he says, biting his bottom lip.
“I don’t mind kids,” Nick continues the conversation from a few minutes ago, “with you I mean.”
Greg continues in a straight line now towards Nick, although the path on the ground has taken an abrupt turn to the left. “Yeah?”. He smiles, raising the temperature 3 degrees.
“Yeah.”
“What made you decide that?”
“It is not like I suddenly decided it. I just came to think of it. With that sinna-whatever, angry boy, and these figures.” He points at the fountain.
“How come?”
”See how they form an entire life circle? I just figured, within a full circle, there should be a seed for the next generation planted. I don’t want it to stop here. I don’t mean I have to leave something behind for me, a mark or something, but I would really like to see children growing up, raising them. I would like to contribute to the future, you know, not only live for my self, but also for my children, and I would really like to do that with you..”
”Wow, big words Stokes!”
”Stokes Sanders!”
”Stokes Sanders,” Greg smiles, “I guess we have to stop using the last names now that we are called by the same name, otherwise it might be a bit confusing.”
“I guess so.”
”But it is better to have the same last names if we will have kids, right? Be a total family with one family name. I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

”This is Nick Stokes”, Grissom showing the new DNA tech around.
”Hi” Nick’s breath was short at first glimpse. Damn, this wasn’t supposed to happen. “Nick,” reached out to take the other mans hand and he almost burned at the electricity when their hands met. He didn’t want to let go, but he did…
”Greg Sanders” Greg said.
”Sanders?, okay. I guess I’ll  see you around”
”Okay, Stokes, I guess you do”

“What are you smiling at?” Greg wants to know.
”Just thinking of the first time I saw you.”
”Oh yeah, saw something you liked?”
”Indeed, and I was not happy about it.”
”Can’t blame me for being pretty, Hon!”
”Oh, I am blaming you all right, dancing around, wiggling your ass..”
“Pretty ass..”
“…your pretty ass and pouting whenever you would like me to give you something.”
“So?”
”So.. Don’t blame me for loving you!”
“Oh no, Hon. I know I am irresistible, won’t hold that against you.”
“I just can’t believe you fell for me too.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?”
”What?”
”That you are so oblivious to your incredible charm is one of your finest features.”

They reach the stairs leading up to the monolith plateau. Spread throughout the stairs is huge granite figures.

“I feel so small.” Greg outburst breaks the silence that had occupied the air.
”Hm?”
”Next to these people,” He points out in any direction, “I am so small”.
“They are just granite, babe.”
”Yeah, but oh so solid…”
”Yes they are, and also unchangeable, each one of them frozen in time, in their stage of life. Isn’t it better to be small, alive, vulnerable, and able to go through each and every one of these stages?”
“With you….”
”With me…. Till death do us apart, remember?”
”I remember.”

Taking a step onto the plateau, Nick has to agree with Greg that he feel kind of small. The Monolith reaching 17 meter in the air, containing 212 figures of man carved out of one single block of granite.

“Is this what we are striving for?” Nick asks, not sure it is for himself or for Greg.
“What do you mean?”
“Are we constantly trying to reach higher? Will we never get enough?” He looks up on the figures climbing on top of each other, reaching for the sky.
“Will we ever be content, you mean?”
“Yes. I have spent so much time trying to be better... For you, for Grissom, for my parents. I must always reach higher. Will there ever be enough?”
“There is enough Nicky, for all of us. It is only you that can decide how far you will reach, and when you will stop. We are happy with you the way you are.”
”Are you?”
”I married you, Hon. Don’t sell me short. I didn’t marry you because I couldn’t get anyone else. I married you because you are the best I know. You are the one I love. You are enough, Nicky. You are enough! ”

“You wanted to talk to me” He walked into Grissom’s office. He had only been back to work a few days after he had been buried alive, and was still not quite comfortable being back.
“Yes Nick, sit down…I have been told I am not good talking to people. I guess you know that. I just thought you should now. Well, you know… when we watched you on the computer screen.”
“Yes” He could hardly voice the word.
“We were taking turns, and I just wanted you to know. I was sitting there while you were recording the tape”
Nick closed his eyes trying to remember the messages he had left to his family and friends.
“Yes?”
”I just… I read lips you know.”
”Yes” He breath were heavily now, wondering what would come.
”Nick, you never let me down! Never!”
He couldn’t response. Guess he wasn’t so good with people either. Not when one of them happened to be himself.

Monolith behind them, they stare up on the wheel of life, a garland of women, children and men forming an eternal circle of life.
“Eternity is a long time.” Greg says.
“It is forever” Nick answers, looking down on the gold band on his finger. “Always and forever.”

-THE END-

LOSBY GODS http://www.losbygods.no/index_en.php

VIGELAND PARK: http://www.museumsnett.no/vigelandmuseet/2parken/2b_historikk/engelsk/2bframeset.html

Comments

[geekwriter143.livejournal.com]

Wow. I loved this, actually. It put me into sort of a dreamy state, and I really think that's a result of the language. The narrative passages worked well, though the dialogue felt off a few times--Americans just don't talk that pretty. You also switched verb tense every now and again, though that's a mistake even native English speakers make a lot.

Back to what did work, though. I generally hate wedding fics because they're so often cliched and sappy, but this wasn't. I love the idea of the two of them marrying in Norway--Greg being Norwegian is a part of canon that a lot of writers seem to ignore, and you embraced it fully here in a way that really works. You made it romantic without being cheesy. I think my favorite line may be:

For Nick, the only important moment is this: September 19th 2005. The moment Greg said JA.

That just sums up the whole fic so well; that tiny sentence tells you what the story's about and even where they're located. I love that little detail, by the way, putting the "ja" at the end of that sentence instead of the expected "yes."

“Welcome to my childhoods Norway, Nicky”.

I love this line, too, because it makes you realize how important Norway is to Greg, that he wants to share it with Nick, wants Nick to know it as well as he does. At the same time, it makes you realize how important Nick is, since he's the one Greg wants to share his childhood memories with.

Thanks so much for sharing this with us.

thanks...

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for the comment! It is very much appreaciated! (And I LOVE your writing, so it really means a lot to get a good comment of someone I know write well!)

"Americans just don't talk that pretty"
==> I know! This is one of the things I have decided that just have to be... I can't write dialogues correctly, since I don't have that feel... Give me norwegian text to write and I'll break it down in dialects, but english...

"You also switched verb tense every now and again"
==> And I have spent so much time going through the story too correct this today... I'll go though it again, and see if I can correct the misstakes that are left. I tend to mix it up a bit when I write the story in "presens", and flashback in "Preteritum" (Sorry, I don't know the terms in english...)

"...putting the "ja" at the end of that sentence instead of the expected 'yes'."
==> Good to hear that some of the very intentional tools that I used had the effect I intended!
:-)

[subluxate]

I think geekwriter143 covered most of my thoughts.

It's beautifully written, and I could visualize the statues, thanks to your lovely description. I also like the discussion about children, and the flashbacks are a nice touch.

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your comment!
Truly appreaciate it!

"I could visualize the statues"
==> If you follow the link in the bottom, you can see them as well :-)

[(Anonymous)]

Lurker Marie here - I really enjoyed this story, but this particular exchange made me smile:

”Oh, I am blaming you all right, dancing around, wiggling your ass..”
“Pretty ass..”
“…your pretty ass and pouting whenever you would like me to give you something.”

That's so Greg! You've really captured him for me.

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Heisann landskvinne...

jeg skriver litt på norsk først, så tar jeg noen kommentarer på engelsk etterpå. Alltid hyggelig å snuble over noen fra lille Norge på det store World WIde Web. Ekstra hyggelig med noen i samme fandom :)

And now for Englih - I suppose I have an advantage in knowing the places you describe here, so I could readily see them - which meant I didn't really need all the descriptions as much and felt it came across as a bit tourist-y. But then, I probably did the same when I described Norway to unknowing readers. There were some grammar hiccups her and there that your beta must have missed. I know how tricky English as a second language is, believe me. Quotes follow this pattern, for instance:

“Eternity is a long time,” Greg says.
“It is forever,” Nick answers.
"How are you?" asks Nick's mother.
“Hey!” exclaims Nick.

If you ever need help from someone who knows exactly the kind of troubles Norwegians have writing English, don't hesitate to ask. I studied in Australia for years, which helped my English quite a lot.

Either way, hope to see more from you!

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :-)
Yeah, I can truly see Greg shooting inn that "Pretty ass" part...

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

Jasså ja, så jeg er ikke alene.... :-)

"I didn't really need all the descriptions as much and felt it came across as a bit tourist-y. But then, I probably did the same when I described Norway to unknowing readers."

Hehe... yeah... I guess you have been to Vigelandsparken.. :-)
But then again, I tried to write the story based on the meaning of the sculpures. They really do fascinates me! (And OK, I was on the big concert in Frognerparken on Saturday (The Lord of the Rings... not A-ha :-( ) and when I was there, I could vividly imagine Greg and Nick there... I just had to write the story) And it is simply not possible to link the meaning to the scupltures without describing them. I guess if this was a Norwegian story, I would have toned it way down, because the moment you say the "Monilitten" or "Sinnataggen" in Norway, evereyone knows how it looks like....

At least I didn't take them shopping in Bogstadveien first...allthough I am sure Greg would have loved it! :-)

Gramatikk feilene er mine alene! (ikke betaen...). Jeg aner ikke hvor mange ganger jeg har rettet dette, men jeg klarer alltid å få inn noen alikevel ;-)

Jeg blir så irritert! Jeg blir liksom så picky når jeg skriver på engelsk. Da vil jeg ha ALT riktig, og det blir det jo ikke... og da har jeg liksom lyst til å bare kutte ut... hadde jeg skrevet på norsk, hadde jeg for det først klart å konsentrere meg mer om å sjekke gramatikkfeil, dessuten hadde jeg bare trukket på skuldrene av skriveleif! Det det er jo menneskelig! Har vi nordmenn et behov for å hedve oss med engelsk?

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Å neida. Det er noen flere krypende omkring også. Jeg holder meg mest til å skrive Grissom/Sara eller Cath/Warrick, jeg da, har bare vært en Nick/Greg fic så langt. Men jeg leser jo alt mulig.

Lucky you. I wanted to go on that one, but alas, no time. You have a definte point about writing for different audiences, though. You can assume a Norwegian would at least know some basics about Vigenlandsparken, but an American would probably not. And an American know all about high school while we Scandinavians do not.

I was half expecting a wild shopping spree on "nye" Karl Johan ;)

Det er umulig å oppdage alle feil på egenhånd, dessverre. Noen blir alltid igjen. Når du leser noen du selv har skrevet, spå vet du jo gjerne hva det er meningen at det skal si - og derfor ser du jo ikke alltid hva som faktisk står der.

Kan hende vi har ett visst behov for å hevde oss, ja. Det er jo en del myter om dumme skandinaver som lever der ute og de blir vel ikke hjulpet av litt tuklete engelsk. Kan ha noe med det å gjøre. Men jeg kjenner folk som har helt begredelig engelsk enda det er morsmålet deres, så egentlig gjør nordmenn flest det meget bra.

Og jeg har lest en del CSI fic hvor forfatter'n skal ha Greg til å snakke norsk - og bruker sånne "free online translators". Det går som regel ikke så bra...

[dionysus-.livejournal.com]

I thought that was really good.
Very well written & I liked the plot.
You should be proud :)
x

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

Nei - de free online translaters er noe herk!
Jeg fikk en gang spøsmålet "Hva er din favoritt utropstegn?" fra en som hadde brukt en sånn. Det han spurte om var selvfølgelig "Who's your favourit character?"
:-)

I know I have seen your name before and wonderer whether you are Norwegian or not... I can't remember where though. May it be ff.net?
I don't read much Griss/Sara, Cath/Warrick, so I have probably not read your stories.

I only write Nick/Greg, and some Horatio/??? (Only a couple of friendship fics, one with Susie and one with Yelina)(They are on ff.net)

[bflyw.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much!
And thank you for commenting!
Love your icon! :-)