"Der var engang ..." Høst og Søns Forlag 2009. This is a collection of my very first fairy tales in a new edition wonderfully illustrated by Naja Schønemann. Author's comments
The Young Weaver Girl Once upon a time, there was a famous Emperor who had everything. He had won countless wars and built glorious palaces; he owned the greatest art treasures in the world; and at his palace were held festivities, the like of which had never been seen. He had made love to a thousand women and no-one was as wealthy as him. But one beautiful spring evening, during a wonderful party, he was suddenly struck down with melancholy. Without really knowing what he was doing, he stopped the music and sent all his guests home. Once everything had become quiet around him, the Emperor sat on his throne and wept. That night, the Emperor locked himself into his sleeping chambers and refused to talk to anyone for many, many days. He wept and sighed day and night, because life felt so meaningless. He just couldn't understand why he had ever been so happy about winning wars, building palaces, collecting works of art, throwing parties and making love to women. All of this now felt totally trivial and empty and the Emperor wept like a little child with sorrow at his wasted life. At sunset one evening, someone knocked firmly on his window. The despondent Emperor heard it well enough, but he had no wish to talk to anyone ….
	The Boy and the Morning Star Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a country village by a river. Every day before the Sun rose, he went out to wave to the Morning Star. It shone so brightly in the pink morning sky and the boy thought the star was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. But one day the Sun didn’t rise at all. It lay just below the horizon and only cast a weak glow up on the bright sky. On the other hand, the Moon didn’t go down. It hung quite still with half of its dull morning disc under the black streak of night. The only clear light came from the Morning Star, which now seemed even more radiant than ever. When the people who lived in the village awoke, they were surprised that the Sun hadn’t risen. They waited and waited, but the Sun and the Moon didn’t budge. Several days passed like this and the village dwellers became more and more despondent. If the Sun and the Moon didn’t pass across the sky as normal, all the crops would wither in the fields. Nothing could grow without the light and warmth of the day and the dripping dew of the night. And then how would people and animals survive? Feeling just as sad as everyone else, the boy went down to the river. The sound of the running water comforted him and lulled him to sleep. In his dreams, it seemed as if the river stretched its small, friendly waves out to him …

The Trees of Life
… Sun and Twilight each had their own tree of course. The day the children were born, the trees were planted side by side in the large park around the castle. They stood here, swaying in the wind, growing taller and taller in line with the increasing love the two children got and gave.
Twilight and Sun grew up together just like the trees. They played together all day and, in the evening when they had to say goodnight to each other, they were sad because it was so long until it would be morning once more.
And that's how it continued right up to the day they turned 11. They celebrated their birthday in the park but in the middle of the party, it suddenly went completely dark and a violent wind howled through the park. Sun and Twilight grabbed hold of each other, but the blast tore at them so powerfully that, in the end, they had to let go. The wind dropped off again just as quickly as the storm had arisen, but when it was light again, Sun had disappeared. They searched for him for many hours but in the end, they had to give up. He was gone.

Princess Morningbloom and the Lindorm
… Invitations to the princess’ christening party were sent to all and sundry – to anyone who wanted to come. It was a splendid party, where everybody enjoyed themselves and had a lovely time. Little Morningbloom got so many presents that they took up a whole hall in the castle.
Moonbeam had also invited her mother, the Queen of the Lake, to the christening party, but the old lady didn’t like it when she had to come onto dry land. Instead she sent a magnificent present: a baby chair cut from the leaves of waterlilies and lined with the velvet of bulrushes.
There was also a present from the Queen’s prime minister: a golden egg!
Moonbeam picked up the egg and looked at it. Then she shivered and hurried off to hide it away in a cupboard in the west tower. She was afraid the egg was enchanted so she didn’t tell anyone about the dangerous gift. She promised herself that she would make sure that it was destroyed as soon as the party was over, but the next day she had already forgotten about it.

The Peacock Who Wanted To Sing
Once upon a time, there was a peacock who lived in a chicken run.
All the hens admired its beautiful metallic blue plumage and when it unfolded its tail into a large fan, they all said, “Ooo!"
They bowed down in deep admiration for the beautiful bird, whereupon the Peacock raised his exotic head feathers, puffed himself up even more and strutted majestically around the chicken run.
One day in the middle of spring, a nightingale installed itself in the old elder at the back of the chicken run.
Every evening when the sun went down, and every morning when it rose again behind the shining green hills, there came the loveliest song out of the elder.
The hens thought that the little bird sang exquisitely. They had never heard such sweet music in all their lives. It was something quite different to wake up to than the old rooster’s scratchy, “Cock-a-doodle-do!”
To start with, the Peacock disregarded the grey bird. It was clearly worth nothing compared to itself, but over time, it decided that the nightingale attracted more of the hens’ attention than it was happy with.

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Author’s comments:
These fairy tales are some of the first things I ever wrote. I was in my early twenties and writing just for fun. Back then I had no idea I would one day earn my living as an author. I have always read a lot of fairy tales and, like many others, am very fond of Hans Christian Andersen. This can certainly be seen in these stories, which I have now had the opportunity of revising thirty years later. They have all been published before, but in this revision they have been tightened up a bit, and here and there I have had to change the storylines a little so that they hold together better now – I have after all become a better “carpenter of tales” since then, fortunately.
I am really happy to be able to publish them again, because they are all stories that mean a lot to me personally – and that is certainly not lessened by the fact that this edition is adorably illustrated by my daughter, Naja Shønemann, who is now nearly the same age as I was when I wrote them.