Neil's Fiction

The years rolled by. Eight years seemed not to be eight years. Styrk was ready with public school and the priest, catechism, Bible history and the father's old catalog together with the alphabet and scrollwork and figures, but something of a doctor he was not as of yet. He understood now, there should be more done to attain it, and he began to make arrangements. Middle school first, his parents had said; and he discerned that his father understood about the matter and neither made one objection... Sign in to see full entry.

After the day the doctor was at the Engen home, it was exceptional how Styrk went and decided on one certain thing: when he was ready with school and confirmation and grew a mustache and a spit of a beard on the chin, just like the doctor, so he should be a doctor himself. He should be exceedingly hard working now that school was out, so the pastor would not be able to say to him on confirmation day that it would no be good for him to be a doctor. Ja, he should read and write all that he could... Sign in to see full entry.

That spring came so purely and remarkably fast that year. The snow began to melt and disappeared, dancing in the distance in the foaming falls down over Loister and Svaberg already at the close of March; and then it led a piece out in April, the fields taking on green and birches budding leaves! No such early spring could in 90 years be remembered.--It was not so good; it bespoke of something wrong perhaps? The rich farmer Ole Enge's son, Styrk, could not understand it in the least. To be sure,... Sign in to see full entry.

Find below a link to my interview about my book, The Red Meadows, a translation from Danish to English. Be sure that you are tuned into the program that is dated June 8, 2014, under Ole Juul, the original author: http://toginet.com/shows/xlibrisonair 2 Sign in to see full entry.

One week later there was a letter to Inga brought up to the farm. It had a Norwegian stamp on it and had been stamped at a Norwegian post office. She strode quickly to take it, saw that it was from a friend of hers, and allowed it to lay there unopened until later in the day, at a better time for her. Then she opened it. And the letter was dumbfounding in its surprise. The letter was from Sir Francis, from him and none other! He pointed out now in the letter what he had dared not tell her before... Sign in to see full entry.

But a month is not an eternity, even if one dwells on a farm or in a tent, and that farm and that tent are quartered in Norway's mountains. It happened there also for this Longvold's mountain farm girl and the England's son true. There came one day, when the tent was taken down and painstakingly folded up. It was a day at the conclusion of the month of June--but the day that frittered away was rich with the sun, the sun and bird songs, cuckoos, and cowbells, echoes of goats bleating, and the... Sign in to see full entry.

As best as could be expected, there was nothing unfriendly between Inga and the Englishman. And why should there be, when their encounter went so honorably and neither one had any opposing word against the other? They must have fully allowed themselves to be friends and to talk to each other about a hundred and a thousand things more, when they only were to be found glad and content, saying nothing negative to each other. It was not seemly how much and how many things he would spurt and have an... Sign in to see full entry.

One summer something rare happened. It was so deliriously rare that a herding boy sprang home to the main house and in strained words told Inga about it--A strange man had set up a tent up in the forest clearing in the vicinity of the main house. He was richly clad and he sang while he folded out the tent, and when he was ready, he plucked some forest flowers, took them with him, and crawled into the tent and began to whistle. The boy had stood at a distance, hid behind the trunk of a large pine... Sign in to see full entry.

She seved in one of the manors in the district. She had come from poor folk and has to leave eartly to work for bread. She was poor in gold and silver but rich in life's joy and faith, and she was 22 years old and her name was Inga. The manor she served at was called Lyngvold and was one of the grandest manors in the whole district. The owner, Anders Lyngvold, stood well and could buy an exact piece of art to hold all things in a state of preservation, so that it would not be taken back. He had... Sign in to see full entry.

Ole Olsen dwelled on his farm on the American prairie still. He is quite a bit more up in years now, that Ole, but he is fresh and vigorous and takes an active part in the local political business as well as the farm work. Nothing has taken place in regard to a Norway trip for him as of yet, but he has not given up on it either. His father has been dead for many, many years now, but his mother lives and is up to 90 years in age. His siblings are spread in all directions, like the wind. A couple... Sign in to see full entry.