I never liked spring. All that flimsy sunshine, blooming trees and girls in short dresses licking ice cream just lull you in a false sense of security, as if there will be no rain and storm and hail and bitter tears for the next six months.

I’m not really sure why I’m so grumpy, really. I’m currently working on a book about my grandmother with 20,000 words already down and high hopes to have it finished by July, when I’m organsing a series of readings at the Irish Writer’s Centre for the 10 Days in Dublin festival in (ta-daa!) Dublin. And I’m also still working on the concept album of German metal band In Arcane together with the very talented graphic artist Jörn Zimmermann; plus I’m flying to London in June for a talk of my favourite author, Neil Gaiman. So no shortage of good stuff in my life currently. But still.

I never thought I’d say this, but it seems like I miss winter.