It feels so strange to be starting this blog by talking about myself. Before I start, let me clear up one misconception you probably have after reading the title of this first blog post. No, I am not a narcissist. But there are so many times I happen on a blog that I enjoy and I want to know about the person behind the words. Why do they write and think the way they do? So that is why I am starting this blog by introducing myself to the two readers who will be reading this.
Back when I was in collage, I found one thing incredibly uniform about the first day of class. No, I am not talking about the passing out of the syllabus and the endless awkwardness of the teacher stumbling over impossible-to-pronounce names. I am talking about the activity I like to dub “meet your fellow inmates.” If you’ve gone to collage, you know exactly what I mean. Every teacher does the activity a bit different, but each has the same similar quality. Either you introduce yourself to the class or you form small groups and introduce yourself to each other. It is the creepiest, most uneasy experience I ever had (and this coming from a girl with terrible test anxiety).
There was always the confusion of what one should say, like, “Hi, my name is so-and-so, this is my degree, this is my favorite book, and this is my semi-creepy habit that you probably didn’t want to know about, but don’t worry because you won’t remember anything about me by the second class.” Yes, I know sometimes people would meet their bosom buddies during that first class, but I was never one of them.
So in the heart of my collage traumatic experience, I will introduce myself in a fully unimaginative, and unmemorable way. So, enjoy.
My name is Anne Mielke (no, I was not born Madame Writer, just to clear things up). I am twenty-two years old as of this post on December 14, 2016. I graduated from my local community collage last year with a Creative Writing Associate of Arts degree and decided not to continue on to get my Bachelor’s degree because I realized one more semester in so-called “progressive” institutions would have me shooting myself with the first flintlock pistol I could lay my hands on or running out in the snow with only a white nightgown on screaming, “The End Has Come! The End Has Come!” Probably in a fake, horrible British accent too.
I have lived in three different areas of the United States, all as different from each other as the moon and the sun (great, I’ve started on the clichés already). I was born in Oregon (wet), moved to New Mexico when I was eight (hot), and soon after moved to Minnesota (cold). I’ve traveled a lot around America, but I would love to travel out of the United States (possibly to anywhere in Asian, as I am obsessed with different Asian cultures).
Writing was always my number one passion, but that is not to say that I spent my childhood with a pen in my hand at all times (just most times). Unlike most young kids in our modern society, I was rarely allowed on the web and instead learned more useful things, like making mud cakes in our garden (I’m just kidding…but really, do not underestimate the fun of playing in mud). I grew up with a mother who was a excellant cook, avid gardener, and fabulous seamstress, all of which I learned growing up. My mother is the type of person who seems to be transported right out of a 50’s TV show, and I would not change her a bit. Sewing, to me, is a lost art in this modern age, and I still many days sit down to run a needle through fabric on my mother’s old Singer sewing machine.
I never went to school (no, I did not live in the wild with wolves, I assure you), and instead was home schooled by my mother all the way through high school. It was one thing that I did in my life that I will never regret, simply because of how contemplation was forefront in my life, whereas the busyness of many of my friends kept them from having a moment to think. And, with so much time to think, I began to read and write. Other talents/oppupations of mine include piano, figure skating, and playing with my adorable Golden Retriever.
Perhaps at this point some time should be focused on my reading and writing habits, as they will be the heart of this blog. I have always been influenced in my writing by what I read, which as a child was always fantasy stories. Fantasy was filled with magic and the imagination my brain was so filled with. However, as I grew older I discovered my love for mystery…murder mystery.
From classic mystery novelists like Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers to modern cozy historical writers like Barbara Mertz, Victoria Thompson, and Rhys Bowen. I am obsessed with the sub-genre of mysteries known as cozy historical mystery, and that is what I mostly write.
However, my second passion was not discovered until I was around fifteen, and that was a fascination with Asian culture, especially that of Korea and Thailand. I suppose coming from a European, Christian background, I was fascinated by how different the cultures were. I knew nothing of Asia until I started watching movies and dramas, and learning about the history, religion, and societies which are so different than my own. Thus why usually the books I write are historical cozy murder mysteries set in somewhere in Asia. I am currently working on a book taking place in the late nineteenth century in Korea. It is fascinating to research. And killing off characters…killing off characters is fun.
Speaking of mysteries, I have never been the type of person who shares much about myself, which is why I have no wish to get Facebook, Twitter, or any other social media account. Thus, be warned that my words are the only thing I will show of myself, as this blog will be absent of my picture. For incognito I will stay as it is so boring to be known. My dog, however, will be everywhere, as you might see by the heading of this blog post.
But, for fear of boring you, I should close my monologue about myself. Gosh, that was so liberating. I should talk about myself more…on the other hand, never mind.
Look forward to my blog on Saturday and I wish you all the best in your writing adventures.