Category Archives: Promoting

#meToo and ricidulous matters

This week I stumbled upon a stunning story, where a lawyer had pleaded how the way the rape victim was dressed, got him to think: she wants ‘it’.
I come from the Netherlands, where this type of nonsense was settled years ago in court, when a judge simply stated, that even if the victim was wearing a short skirt or dress, this was not to be considered an ‘open invite’ of sorts.
It is becoming more and more ridiculous, the way that men and court are making women having to proof how they were a victim of a terrible crime, rather than to be someone who ‘asked for it’.
Then I watched a film from a couple of decades ago. I had never seen it before, but I was known with the concept itself: strong man sailing/conquering the world, suddenly gains stowaways, nearly always women and children. The journey always goes that the child messes up everything that is dear to the man, the woman always tries to make man think differently, in the end they cannot live without one another.

Given that as of late, women and men are more and more puzzled by how come men and youngsters think so badly about women, I do think I’ve found my answer.
Nowadays, films and series are at least making an attempt of making everyone equal within a storyline. But the woman being an emotional burden on whatever man she meets, is still there.
Then, we also have cultural differences.
On twitter I saw a source (I’m quoting them, but am not sure they want their name in my piece, so I’m leaving that out) ‘One finding from PhD is that whilst the family is seen as the most important support network for a woman after rape&abuse, they are actually the most common source of victim blaming and self blame. Despite the blame they induce, they are still the first port of call for support’.
This makes me think about many girls and women of religious faiths, who are, on a daily base, told how to think, dress and act. If they do not obey to these rules, or something happens, they are still found to be at fault, as their religious believes usually don’t leave any space for doubt about that.
As a Moroccan-Dutch journalist wrote a while ago: ‘we have #metoo aswell, but unlike others whom this happens to, we cannot talk about it, because it is ALWAYS someone we know’. When I read that, I wanted to pull my hairs out, as I thought: wow, you REALLY missed the entire point?! The thing that #meToo showed, once and for all, is that no matter what culture you’re from, it IS always someone you know.
The difference between cultures is the blaming. In all cultures, women are doubted. In some cultures, women are told on a daily base they’re a whore if they don’t wear that headscarf, if they eat a cucumber, a carrot, a banana or whatever in front of a man.
In western culture, women are far more emancipated than men from other cultures had anticipated on. The difference shows: headscarves vs no headscarves. A difference that we’ve learned to accept, even though it goes against our principles of a woman being free to do whatever she pleases.
So far, I have mostly seen that the mindset that comes with it, is not upgraded to the western values though. That you are a worthy woman. If you say no, it’s no. You are worthy, you are equal to men.


Related to the #meToo subject: my book:

When The Waves Break The Silence on Pumbo
On amazon:

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Posted by on November 19, 2018 in Daily life, Promoting


#meToo Sexual abuse survivors

When The Waves Break The Silence coverpicGiven the many comments I’ve read about any type of bully who claims not having abused anyone and their bystanders going ‘why didn’t s/he report it when it happened then, eh?’ because to a bully, this is apparently the only way to  ‘proof’ that anyone is stating a lie as soon as they say ‘I was abused by him/her’.

It shouldn’t be up to the bully to decide whether a story is true or not, which is the whole problem with #meToo. They are, after all, the ones who started it in the first place. Of course they want the evidence, which they’ve wiped out, to be part of the ‘proof it!’ explanation.

Aren’t they right for wanting proof of their misbehavings then? By law, of course they are. Then again, there’s visible and invisible proof that could be claimed here.
The visible proof is, apparently, the report that was written by a police officer? If you believe the bullies, this is the first thing that should be done. Even before talking to someone in confidence, because the proof should be filed at all times. Even if the offender has whispered in your ears ‘try telling anyone, and I’ll cut your throat/hurt your family/make sure you will never work again/take all your money/kill you/anything else horrible’. Of course, bullies are never sensitive for this type of behaviour. They would never let themselves be intimidated by any of that. They are bullies, this is how they live. You intimidate people until they are stiff with fear and will only do as they are told, like a good soldier.

Then there’s normal people, with actual feelings, who DO understand that an attack of the sexual act, or longterm sexual abuse, will have taken a lot of your courage. Especially when it’s met with threats of any kind, or severe mental abuse as well.
A normal human being will think: that will take some therapy to get ready to even make the possibility of it having happened for real, be manageable. Because that is what it does. When someone attacks your body, without your consent, has threatened you to do any additional harm when you go tell anyone, it feels like that perpretator has just locked your body. It is no longer yours. If you so much as tell anyone, the entire world is gonna look at you like you’re the guilty one.

It takes more than a lot of courage. It takes the world to love you and to believe you. And then a bit more. Sexual abuse is not something to take lightly. It can take more than a decade, even a couple of decades, for a victim to go out and tell his or her story.

When The Waves Break The Silence is a story about this. Dutch page for paperback amazon for kindle

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Posted by on October 29, 2018 in Books, Promoting


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When The Waves Break The Silence

When The Waves Break The Silence coverpicWhen the body of a man is found on the beach of Luing in Scotland, it appears that nobody knows who he is.
He hasn’t been filed missing, nor is there anyone to claim the body. It remains a mystery who he is and what his story is, until Stella McFee, new officer in town, Lily Cochrane, intern at the local newspapers and Fiona Diggs, intern at the coroner’s office, stick their heads together.
It then appears the man has anything but a pretty past.

Based on true events, but altered for obvious reasons.

This book isn’t suitable for the under 18, contains strong language and may cause bad memories to arise. Help for the latter is included in the last pages.


kindle edition:

paperback edition:

Dutch publisher (book in English, publisher situated in the Netherlands):

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Posted by on October 11, 2018 in Books, Projects, Promoting


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Einde Luidruchtige Huisgenoten/End of the Loud Roommates/End Compagni Rumorosi


‘Jongens, we móeten echt een huisvergadering houden’, sprak Karel. Al geruime tijd had hij last van de geluidsoverlast van Leon, de mooiboy in het huis. Leon liet zijn computer met muziek graag snoeihard aanstaan. Ook als hij niet thuis was. En in tegenstelling tot Jenna, Pien en Hannah, die hun deur ook weleens níet op slot deden als ze er niet waren, sloot Leon altijd af. Ook als hij nachtdienst had. Voor die arme Karel geen pretje, aangezien hij naast Leon’s kamer zat.
‘Ja, en we moeten Fanny zover krijgen dat ze dat klotekonijn van d’r alleen in d’r éigen kamer los laat lopen, want ik ben nu zaagsel en konijnenkeutels die van háár zijn aan het opruimen in míjn huisdienst!’ mopperde Bernard chagrijnig. Hij had al verschillende aanvaringen gehad met Fanny. Als die een boze blik op je wierp, voelde je je spontaan krimpen. Van watermeloen naar sesamzaadje. Fanny liet zich door niemand iets vertellen. Ondertussen was ook Jenna de keuken in komen lopen.
‘Kan dan ook het feit dat Oxana en haar vriendinnetje zo luidruchtig zijn, op de agenda?’ vroeg ze.
‘Prima, doen we die allemaal wel onder de noemer ‘geluidsoverlast’, besloot Theo, die al aan tafel zat met een lijst voor mogelijke vergaderonderwerpen.

Dat werd nog leuk, dacht Josephine.

Omdat zoiets als ‘een vergadering organiseren’ nogal wat voeten in de aarde had met vijftien huisgenoten, duurde het nog even voor de daadwerkelijke vergadering plaats zou vinden. De agenda was sneller gemaakt. Voor Jenna een lijdensweg tot het verlossende moment. Maar toen gebeurde er voortijdig wat.

Josephine liep Oxana’s vriendinnetje tegen het lijf. In de keuken. Josephine had geen idee hoe ze heette, maar haar gezicht was wel degelijk bekend.

‘Oh, hoi!’ groette ze haar, want een onaardig meisje was het niet.
‘Hey, hoe is het?’ vroeg de Vriendin vriendelijk, aan het klieren met ovenbroodjes, maar voornamelijk de verpakking. Dat krijg je in een slecht georganiseerde keuken. Daar liggen geen scharen in om die verpakking open te knippen. Josephine bood haar uiterst botte, maar verder effectieve zakmes aan.
‘Ah, dank je!’
‘Graag gedaan. Ben jij er ook toevallig, volgende week?’ vroeg ze vagelijk. Zelfs Josephine vroeg zich af waarom. Wat had Oxana’s vriendin met die huisvergadering, waar ze op doelde, te maken?
‘Ehh ja, dat zou kunnen, weet ik nog niet, hoezo?’
‘Nou, we hebben een huisvergadering volgende week’, zei Josephine afwezig, op zoek naar een schoon kopje.
‘Ah, doen jullie dat vaak?’
‘Nee, dat niet. Af en toe, als het nodig is. We hebben wat geluidsoverlast’, flapte Josephine er toen ineens uit, terwijl ze een kopje uit een afwasteil hengelde en het afspoelde.
‘Oh? Ik dacht dat de muren hier zo goed geïsoleerd waren?’ sprak de vriendin verbaasd. Ze had de broodjes inmiddels op het rooster van de oven gekregen, die omwikkeld was met alumininium folie wat zwart zag van alle andere zaken die daar al op verbrand waren.
‘Ja, de muren wel, maar via de ruimtes boven de deuren en het stopcontact komt er nog aardig wat door’, legde Josephine uit, spelend met het kopje.
Dit was niet waarom ze dit gesprek begonnen was. Ze wilde dit gesprek ook niet voeren. En toch was dat precies wat ze deed. Welkom, spontaniteit en flapuiterigheid. Shiiiiiiit!
‘Heeft iemand dan te hard staande muziek? Ik heb het nooit gehoord?’ merkte de vriendin verbaasd op, schoof de broodjes in de oven, nadat ze ze voorzichtig wat natter had gemaakt.
Yep. Ze moest het gaan zeggen. Dit was hét moment. Ze wilde het nog steeds niet. Dat dóe je niet. Niet bij de wildvreemde. Bij je eigen huisgenoot, MISSCHIEN, maar niet met degene die je het minst kent van de twee, wel?!
‘Nee, geen muziek….’ zei Josephine, licht grijnzend. De vragende blik terug nodigde téveel uit tot concreet antwoord.
‘De Daad’ , zei ze dus maar.
‘Oh?’ de vriendin keek Josephine even heel vragend aan, nieuwsgierig naar wie dat koppel dan wel was?
Josephine wilde het eigenlijk niet zeggen, maar de stilte die al was gevallen werd langer, en langer, en nog langer, en de grijns op haar mond sprak, zeker in combinatie met het langdurig aankijken van de Vriendin. Ineens lazerde het spreekwoordelijke kwartje als een baksteen naar beneden.
De Vriendin kreeg een kleur als vuur.
‘Oh! Daar hoeven jullie geen huisvergadering over te houden, hoor!’ sprak ze vlot, en maakte zich uit de voeten.

Sindsdien was het stil in de kamer van Oxana. Het vriendinnetje kwam langs, maar Jenna kon weer slapen.


‘Guys, we really need a house meeting!’ Charley said. He had been bothered by the noise Leon made for quite a while now. Leon, the pretty boy of the house, who always left his computer on while he was out, playing songs at incredibly loud levels. And unlike some others, Leon actually locked his door when he went out. As an intern in the hospital. Serving night shifts. Charley being his direct roommate, he had to endure quite a lot, poor sod.
Yes, and we need to convince Fanny to let that blasted rabbit of hers only hop around in her own room. At this rate I’m cleaning up after that little shite!’ Bernie said, frustrated. Nearly no-one could truly get on with Fanny, but Bernie and Fanny seemed an especially bad combo. As soon as Bernie opened his mouth, Fanny’s face went dark. That was the effect she had on most people, in honesty. Fanny gave the orders. If you had something against anything you said, you better take the floor well prepared, since Fanny was up for it.
‘Alright, so can Oxana and her friend be added to the list too, then?’ Jenna, who had just stepped into the kitchen and had quite understood what the subject was all about.
‘Sure, I think I’ll just put it on the list as ‘Too Loud Noises’ or something’, Theo said, seated at the kitchen table, as he was making an agenda for the meeting.

‘Well, this is gonna be fun’, Josephine thought to herself.

Because they had no less than fifteen roommates, the meeting couldn’t be held immediately. It would take at least another week and a half before it was actually scheduled. So Jenna had to endure quite a bit more. Still, it wouldn’t take until the meeting, because something occurred.

Josephine ran into Oxana’s lover.
Josephine had no idea what her name was, but her face was, by now, quite familiair. 

‘Oh, hi!’ Josephine greeted the girl cheery, as the girl wasn’t a nasty one.
Hey, how are you?’ responded the Girlfriend, occupied opening a package of oven rolls that wouldn’t open, as the kitchen wasn’t fully equipped and therefore missed out on things like scissors. Josephine offered her blunt pocket knife, which was received gratefully.
‘Ah, thanks!’
‘You’re welcome. Are you here, by any chance, next week?’ Josephine suddenly asked. She had no idea why. Why would this girl have anything to do with their house meeting?
“Errr I’m not sure yet, why?’
‘Well, we’re having a house meeting’, Josephine answered, in search of a clean cup. A hard find in this kitchen.
‘Ah, you do that often?’
‘Not really, just when it’s necessary, I suppose. We’re having trouble with noise disturbance’, she suddenly said, when she’d found a cup.
“Oh? I thought the walls were so well isolated here?’ the girlfriend said, surprised, having spread the rolls on a tray with the dirtiest tin foil ever, after sprinkling them with a bit of water.
‘Yes, it’s quite well isolated, but through the compartments above the doors and through the electrical sockets, sounds still come through’ Josephine explained. She actually didn’t want to say it. She hadn’t planned on doing that. And yet, there she was. Having this conversation. Welcome to spontanity and not being able to keep your mouth shut. Shiiiiiiiiit!
‘Is anybody playing loud music? I’ve never heard it?’ the girlfriend mentioned, surprised. She was about to shove the bread rolls in the oven. Yup. This was the moment Josephine wasn’t waiting for. She had to tell. She didn’t want to. I mean, aren’t you supposed to mention this kind of stuff to the one you actually live with? In other words, Oxana herself?
‘No, it’s not music that’s bothering’, Josephine grinned. Because that’s what the subject itself did to her. It made her an instant prude. Josephine didn’t like to talk about sex to someone she didn’t know. But the questionmark hanging so obviously above the girlfriend’s head, did require an answer.
‘The Deed’, answered Josephine, in lack of a better word.
‘Oh?’ the girlfriend was all ears now, kept staring at Josephine, in hopes of getting to know who was that noisy couple. There was no way back. No way at all. Josephine was still looking for words, when she suddenly realised that the silence she’d dropped, had taken too long. She HAD to say something, right? She looked with an uneasy smile at the curious girlfriend, and suddenly noticed the quarter dropped down like a brick from the Berlin wall after a sledge hammer got to it.
The girlfriend’s face was suddenly on fire.
‘Oh! You don’t need to have a meeting about that!’ and off she went, out of the kitchen.

Ever since, it went quiet in Oxana’s room. And thankfully, Jenna could go back to sleep again.



‘Gente, dobbiamo bisogno davvero un riunione di casa!’ ha detto Carlo. Ne era stato infastidito per qualche tempo a Léon, la casanova della casa. Léon amava la sua musica molto rumorosa, anche quando non era neppure nella casa. E diversamente da Hannah, Pina e Gina, Léon sempre chiuso la sua camera con chiave. Anche se avesse il turno di notte. Povero Carlo, che viveva accanto a Léon.
‘Sì, e qualcuno per favore dire a Fanny che lei lasciare il suo coniglio solo da sola nella stessa camera. Ora io lavo escrementi di questo cazzo coniglio e l’animale non è mio!’ Bernardo gridò frustato. Lui ha avuti collisioni diversi con Fanny, perché lei non ascoltava nessuno. Uno sguardo da lei e si ritrasse. Dall’anguria al seme di sesamo. A questo momento, anche Gina entrata la cucina comune, e ha ascoltava il sogetto.
‘Per favore, anche aggiunge il sesso tra Oxana e la sua fidanzata!’ lei chiamava.
‘Accordo’, Theo ha detto, l’ha scritto sul foglio di carta, ‘semplice scrivo “rumorosa”, OK?’
Era accordo.

‘Sarà divertente’ Giuseppina ha pensata sarcastico.

Com’è normale in una casa di 15 residenti, al meno una settimana passata prima era un occasione di avere un riunione di casa. E qualcosa diversa succede.

Giuseppina ha incontrata la fidanzata di Oxana, nella cucina comune. Giuseppina non ha avuta una idea quale era il suo nome, ma la sua faccia, sì, lei ha vista.

‘Oh, ciao!’ ha dice alla Fidanzata, perché non era una ragazza male.
‘Ciao, come stai?’ la Fidanzata chiesta, stava scompigliando con un paio di pane per il forno. Difficile senza un coltello adeguato. Nella questa cucina in particolare prevalse l’anarchia. Il che significava: niente forbici. Giuseppina offerta il suo coltellino svizzero smussato.
‘Ah, grazie!’ la Fidanzata rispose.
‘Sei qui la prossima settimana?’ Giuseppina chiesta. Non sapeva nemmeno perché. Era un riunione di casa, questa Fidanzata non era la sua coinquilina. Perché era importante che la Fidanzata era qua o no?
‘Ehhhh non lo so ancora, perche?’
‘Ci abbiamo un riunione di rumorosi nella casa’, Giuseppina spiegava, alla ricerca di una tazza. Un ritrovamento in questa cucina.
‘Ah? Si fa spesso, incontri?’ lei chiesta.
‘No, non veramente. Quando è necessario. Ci sono alcuni chi soffrono di disturbo acustico’, ha detto all’improvviso. Lei finalmente ha trovava una tazza.
‘Oh? Pensavo che le pareti fossero così ben isolate qui?’ la Fidanzata rispose sorpreso, aveva steso i rotoli sul foglio di alluminio più sporco di sempre.
‘Sì, le pareti e tetti sono, ma non le prese elettriche oppure i vani portaoggetti sopra le porte’, Giuseppina spiegò. Effettivamente non voleva dire. Lei non ha avuta un piano per fare questo. Eppure quello stava per accadere. Avendo questa conversazione. Lei. Perché lei era così spontanea, grazie! Cazzzooooooooo!
‘È qualcuno che suona musica ad alto volume? Non ho mai sentito?’ la Fidanzata era sorpresa.  Stava per mettere i panini nel forno. Sì. Il momento era lì. Giuseppina sapeva. Il momento lei non voleva essere da parte. Giuseppina sentiva che doveva dirlo. Ma questa era la Fidanzata, non la sua compagna di stanza! Lei davvero non voleva dire. Però la sua faccia era un grosso punto interrogativo.
‘L’Atto’, Giuseppina rispose, a causa di un improvviso attacco di prudenza.
‘Oh?’ il punto interrogativo diventata più grande, non meno. Lei davvero voleva sappere chi erano la coppia così rumorosa? Capì che non c’era modo di tornare indietro. Era il proprio momento. Giuseppina lei non aveva ancora detto nulla, quando si rese conto che il silenzio aveva impiegato troppo tempo. Giuseppina sorrise, guardò alla Fidanzata negli occhi, pronta per dire, alla ricerca di parole, quando il penny è caduto con la Fidanzata. Come un mattone.
La faccia di Fidanzata divenne rossa come il fuoco.
‘Oh, Dio! Non è necessario per avere un riunione di questo!’ lei rispose, e quasi corsa fuori dalla cucina.

Dopo, era sempre tranquilla nella stanza di Oxana, e Gina riuscì a dormire di nuovo…

(dit is onderdeel van de bundel ‘Het Studentenhuis’)è corsa fuori dalla cucina


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Luidruchtige Huisgenoten

Luidruchtige Huisgenoten

Op een avond zaten ze met een aantal in de gemeenschappelijke huiskamer Friends te kijken.
Leuk en gezellig hingen ze op elkaar op de bank. Toen kwam Jenna hoogst vermoeid en in haar nachthemd binnen stappen.
‘Hallooooo’ groette die, wat teneergeslagen.
‘Wat is er met jou aan de hand?’ vroeg Theo verbaasd, zijn hoofd gedeeltelijk op de buik van Irene, zijn benen tegen het afbladderende behang.
‘Ik kan niet slapen’, klaagde Jenna.
‘Moet ik een liedje voor je zingen?’ opperde Josephine. Hannah grinnikte.
‘Haha, zou dat helpen dan? Kun jij zingen?’ Jenna was naar de waterkoker gelopen, vulde die met water.
‘Ik kan zingen, jazeker, maar het komt wel wisselend m’n keel uit hoor’, verzekerde Josephine aan Hannah.
‘D’r liggen d’r twee nogal wat geluid te produceren’, zei Jenna toen mokkend tegen de waterkoker.
‘He?’ ze keken haar wat niet-begrijpend aan vanaf hun bank-hang-gelegenheid.
‘Onze Russische huisgenoot Oxana heeft een vriendje’, lichtte Jenna toen toe.
‘Is het zo erg?’ vroeg Theo verbaasd.
‘Ik heb de afgelopen week meer Russisch geleerd dan ik ooit zal kunnen gebruiken’, zuchtte Jenna vermoeid, haar hoofd heen en weer halend, om de spieren wat losser te maken.
‘Hier, kom even zitten’, bood Josephine aan. Jenna maakte dankbaar gebruik van dit aanbod, nestelde zich tussen de leuning en Josephines rechterdij.
‘Wat voor Russisch dan?’ Irene, benieuwd.
‘Ik denk niet dat het het soort is wat je kunt gebruiken in een conversatie bij de thee. Gok ik zo, tenminste?’ merkte Josephine subtiel op.
‘Zijn ze nu bezig?’ vroeg Irene.
‘Uh-huh’, knikte Jenna. Irene stond op, liep richting deur, Theo daarmee berovend van zijn lekkere hoofdsteuntje.
‘Doe normaal!’ riep Theo gekscherend naar Irene, maar ze was al weg, de deur uit. Theo sprong er achteraan. Hij lag toch al niet lekker meer. Toen volgde Karel. En Leon.
‘Nou ja zeg, jongens!’ schaterde Josephine. Ze stond eveneens op.
‘Nou zeg, ga jij nou ook kijken??’ vroeg Jenna verbolgen aan Josephine, toen die de deur van de huiskamer opentrok. Jenna voelde zich duidelijk verraden. Of haar gebrek aan nachtrust er niet toe deed.
‘Nee, echt niet’, antwoordde ze, op een toon die geruststellend moest klinken, terwijl ze de andere deur, naar de voordeur, ook opentrok en om de hoek daarvan keek.
Er stond nu een troepje huisgenoten voor de deur van Oxana. Josephine wilde wel brullen ‘ga weg daar, eikels!’ maar realiseerde dat Oxana en haar vriend dat dan mogelijk zouden horen. Dat leek nog gênanter dan wat nu het geval was. Als het geluid ophield (want ook dát hoorde Josephine), zouden ze zich echt wel uit de voeten maken.
‘Jemig, het zijn ook net kleuters’, sprak Josephine hoofdschuddend toen ze haar hoofd weer van de gang haalde.
‘Al wat we nu nog nodig hebben is een schoolkrant’, giechelde Hannah.
‘Goed idee, als jij ‘m dan vult met de rest, hebben we bij deze de roddelrubriek al klaar’, vulde Josephine aan. De bank was zo goed als leeg. De Muppet Show was leeggelopen bij de belofte aan een live voorstelling.
‘Hee, waar is Jenna?’
‘Ik ben hier!’ riep die van om de hoek in de keuken.
‘Ik schenk mezelf thee in. Daarna ga ik opnieuw proberen te slapen. Als dat dan tenminste mogelijk is’.
Ze gingen met z’n drieën op de bank zitten en wachtten tot de jongens en Irene weer van de gang kwamen.
‘Mijn hemel zeg, wat een geluid produceren die twee!’ Theo was duidelijk onder de indruk.
‘Terwijl de deuren toch zo goed isoleren?’ Irene, hoogst verbaasd over het falen van techniek.
‘Het kan ook van die bergruimtes boven de deur komen he’, vulde Jenna aan.
‘Daar heb ik van alles liggen’ zei Josephine
‘Ik niet’, verzuchtte Jenna.
‘Ik heb niet genoeg kasten, dus wat daar niet in past, prop ik in dat luik’, wijdde Josephine uit.
‘Alles past in mijn kast’, gromde Jenna.
‘Zal ik wat zooi van mij in jouw ruimte mikken dan?’ bood Josephine aan.
‘Zeg zeg, nog even en ik word weer opgewonden!’ zei Theo grinnikend.
‘Alsjeblieft zeg, hou op! Jullie zijn weer terug. Dan zijn ze klaar, toch? Dan kan ik terug. Eindelijk lekker slapen’ Jenna was chagrijnig, maar dan kon je haar niet kwalijk meer nemen.
‘Joe, slaap lekker’.
En dat was dat. Voor die avond.

(dit hoofdstuk is onderdeel van de bundel ‘Het Studentenhuis’  van M. Lanen-de Vries)


When Gods Play Hide & Seek (teaser)

This story begins on a Monday.
To add to its nasty consequences -Mondays are barely ever popular, as beings are not that happy to give up their freedom to perform such a silly thing as work if they have to interrupt or even stop a pleasant thing such as ‘doing nothing’ in front of a tellybox, an xbox, an intergalactic Javahoohoobox, hopping a Mega Hypermatic Bouncing Ball or any such kind thing on weekends- this particular Monday even begins with a meeting.
Meetings are about as pleasant as having a hemorrhoid removed by a dentist, an earthling once told me.

This was not just any meeting.

It was going to be a lifechanging one for some, though not a very impressive one for many others. Most of the latter were attending the table where the meeting was held at.
It was a rather messy meeting, too.
Not quite how Tryxeon had envisioned it. He could hardly draw enough attention to make himself heard, let alone present his new Power Point Presentation.

Which was too bad.
He had spend quite some time making it, after seeing what kind of big audiences it could bring to complete and utter silence on Earth.
Then again, this wasn’t quite Earth. This was his own planet, in his own solar system.

Massive Big Ball.

When it came to naming it, he had been a bit hungover, he admitted. He went for the description his three year old son had given him when seeing it for the first time, from a distance, while eating his porridge. A spoon had pointed at it in his small, sticky and dirty hands.
‘That’s a massive big ball!’
Tryxeon had concluded this was, in fact, the perfect description of it, so he decided that that should be its name.

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Posted by on January 27, 2016 in Books, Humour, Projects, Promoting


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Frankies’ Fifteenth

Frankie is a fourteen year old with a funny relationship to her boyfriend George (he doesn’t want anyone to know they’re dating), and an even more weird friendship to her best pal Dabby and a history of not fitting in with her peers altogether.
Then one night, Frankie has a dream. About their gymteacher….
Mrs Pilcher.
Now what?

Fragment of Frankies’ Fifteenth:

” Mathematics class was about to get started.

Frankies’ fellow pupils were stumbling around for spots that seemed alright enough to hide everything that wasn’t studymaterial-related.

A walkman, discman, headsets big and small, chewing gums in all colors, shapes and tastes of the rainbow, nail polish, hair brushes and elastic bands, all shades of velvet tip pens you weren’t supposed to use and other things that weren’t to be exposed until lunch break.

They were badly hidden behind ridiculously big brand backpacks. Without those, you had no point even bringing your beloved belongings to school in the first place. It was the innocent approach of breaking the rules, if you will. Teachers were obliged to object to them, so hiding was the best way to go. The Mathematical teacher, bearded Mr Fennel, was quite easy in approach.

He always pretended he didn’t see it. He didn’t understand what the fuzz was all about, nor did he care. Mr Fennel liked his students and as long as they did their very best, he wasn’t prone to do what was expected.

Frankie Thompson and Dabby Leavy had long found their place on the side. A perfect spot, as it had a set of tables pretty much glued to the wall. Or actually the chairs were. They could check everyone coming in and going out, as if it were a pub and they were about to order a drink they weren’t supposed to have.

The spot had the lovely possibility of leaning back against the wall with their chairs and not be bothered to keep a balance, because of it. Ideal.

Frankie had been growing so fast the past time, it felt quite liberating to her feet not touching the floor for once.

Dabby usually used the oppertunity to insult someone she fancied. Though it was hard to tell the difference, as Dabby always insulted anyone that came across. Frankie was just happy if it wasn’t herself for a change.

Frankie was really only waiting for the right moment to tell Dabby she wanted to go to the library.

Eagerly waiting for the class to be settled down, as the hours just changed and they had to walk and sit down a new classroom.

Looking at pupils who practically emptied their backpacks with all the stuff they couldn’t find. Holding her breath when it looked like they were concentrated so deeply into their works that no-one would even notice her and Dabby to exist.

Patiently waiting like an animal waits for its prey to sit exactly right, ready to attack. Waiting for the surrounding factors to be exactly right: no wind, no dust, no rivals, just an easy to catch moment. A predator waiting to attack. Trying to be a chameleon, to solve into thin air, becoming one with everyone and everything so its presence is not noted.

One could wonder what the fuzz was all about concerning the library in the first place: it were just books, nothing special, right?

But there Frankie was, sweating, trying to fix her skirt in such a way it didn’t look like she was there. Getting rid of every wrinkle in the fabric. Every crumble that could be a spot. Checking her nails, if they were in order. Neatly cut and clean, not long and creepy, like a dead finger or something. She had long and thin fingers, but enough nerves to wind up to make the existence of valium a blessing in the end. She wasn’t allowed any, of course, but her sister sometimes threatened to pour it in her drink when Frankie was acting up again.

‘Shut up or I will put Mom’s valium in your tea!’ but since Julia wasn’t here, Frankie felt she could bite her nails the way she liked. Besides, Julia also, would have no idea what it was Frankie got so worked up about. Why would she? Frankie never shared her secrets with anyone at home. Not since Terry had revealed Julia’s favorite type of underwear during dinner. And not in a subtle way either.”

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Posted by on April 7, 2015 in Projects, Promoting


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