I’m Johan Lundgård, Norwegian Writer

Welcome! I’m Johan Lundgård. My writing style often blends dark introspection with fantastical elements, and explore the beauty found in human struggles and the complexities of life.

My Life Before Writing

Growing up, I always enjoyed the little fictional writing projects in school—whether in Norwegian, English, or religion classes. Though I’m still on the fence about religion, I sure enjoyed the stories we heard and got to write.

I can’t pinpoint exactly when, but somewhere around age 13, I sat down at my computer and decided I was going to write in my spare time, since I adored it in school. The white screen burned into my retina just long enough for me to doubt myself and shy away from the process.

Fast forward to late secondary school. Fictional writing tasks were still the occasional school assignment, and I enjoyed them as much as I had before. This sparked another attempt at writing in my spare time. It ended just like before—sigh.

After deciding I wasn’t cut out for this, I forgot about writing until one cold December day.

The Inciting Incident

When I was 21, everything seemed fine—on paper. I worked as a carpenter; the pay was fine. I had a girlfriend. I played guitar. I lived. That was my life, until my girlfriend left me. It wasn’t just heartbreak; it was the realization of how many “meh” areas there were in my life. I hadn’t been living, just existing.

The eight dark months that followed? I can almost smile at them now. Something good came out of the mess. My life dipped just low enough to finally push me to fix it. That’s when I found my one true passion: writing.

At first, it was messy fiction reflecting my own pain—little cathartic bursts. Then I wrote about the things I was coming to understand, journaling obsessively, one entry every day. These days, I journal less and prefer short bursts—a story, a sketch. It works. Somewhere in those chaotic first drafts, I began working on what I thought would be my first book. Engines Overhead wasn’t supposed to come first.

That draft spiraled into something so big it felt impossible to tackle. It could’ve been the magnum opus of a seasoned author. Little fledgling me wasn’t about to start there. So, after shelving a few drafts and book ideas, I turned to short stories.

Writing those was freeing. One idea, one raw emotion, could carry a narrative from start to finish in a single sitting. I wrote a dozen before I felt ready to draft another novel. Then I got sick. Four months of it. It felt like the flu, but it wasn’t. My head spun. I hallucinated. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking my beard was cardboard, glued to my face. My eyesight was terrible.

Writing kept me sane during that time. But even that draft ended up shoved into a drawer. Fast forward: I began a nonfiction book tackling life’s big questions—meaning, purpose, the knowledge we overlook. I reached 50,000 words before imposter syndrome hit. Who was I to give people advice? So, I shelved that too and started again.

This time, I promised myself I’d start small: a short story for my newsletter. That story refused to stay small. It grew into a novella, then a short novel, and finally, Engines Overhead. Now, it’s nearly done.

Writer at The Core

How do I keep myself sane? Writing. It’s that simple. Writing isn’t about retreating from life; it’s about seeing it. Truly seeing it.

To call writing or reading an escape is a grotesque understatement. It’s the romantic’s pink lens between hard-knock reality and the beating heart. It’s the last lens through which a lone blooming flower becomes beautiful before it hits your perception. To write is to pick something up, turn it over, and show it to the world. To write is to be present, to live while you can, and to build a lasting legacy of how you perceived the great gift of life.

Writing gave me more than passion—it gave me myself. No matter how broken I might feel, I know I’ll always have that lens. I’ll always know who I am.

My First Book

There have been so many firsts that my head hurts. Honestly, I have commitment issues when it comes to book projects. Yet somehow, the longest project I completed first became Engines Overhead, despite having shelved three other books I had started and made progress on. For reasons unknown, Engines Overhead emerged as my first finished book.

Today

Today, I work on short stories, novels (novelettes/novellas), articles, and nonfiction books. There’s something alluring about writing fiction, and I’m content exploring it until the day I die.

Connect With Me

Thank you so much for reading my story.

If you’d like to stay updated on my writing journey, follow my newsletter. I’ll keep you in the loop whenever I publish something new (there’s always something big in the works).

Looking for an easy way to connect? Hit me up on X (Twitter) – I’m actively posting there.

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Sneak peak from Engines Overhead:
"Astrid’s," the older woman muttered, her head dipped just enough to mark the name. The motion was so slight, Emily couldn’t have noticed, but she looked up at them anyway, like they had blamed her for something.
— Johan Lundgård (@JohanLundgard) January 20, 2025