The day was spent in the forest the paper may have come from. At first I was disappointed by the size and denseness of the trees and foliage. Then I realised how far north we are… almost falling off the edge of the world, near the place where Dutch sailors barely survived a harsh winter using the boards of their ship as fuel several centuries ago. These poor trees had been, and still are, struggling for their lives. The tallest can t be much higher than fifteen meters and are certainly not thicker than 40 centimetres, yet those are five hundred years old.

All that struggling to end up as a novel that the owner will throw out in less than five years and that might be trash to begin with. Or a magazine that will be considered trash much sooner. Or to end up, eventually, as toilet paper.

We use the efforts of these trees to grow up, survive and have nice little offspring to wipe our asses with. It’s too sad to even think about.

I have picked up Niemi's novel again, in fact am engrossed in it. And frankly, I don't care what kind of paper it has been printed on. As long as I don't have to wipe my behind with a murdered forest.

Oh yeah, by the way we went up to that part of the forest on sleds towed by snowmobiles. It was great fun. We didn’t see a single reindeer. They must have had better things to do than making an appearance for a bunch of nosy authors... surviving, maybe?

- Lydia

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Photo: © Greenpeace/Matti Snellman