Saturday, December 10, 2011

A Delayed Debut or "Getting Over It"

First of all I want to both thank and apologize to Michelle. She's a true friend and has been very supportive of me and my creative efforts. She is also a diversely talented, witty and creative artist in her own right. She gave me this forum to speak my mind, or lack thereof, about a year ago, so obviously I follow up on things in a timely manner.

The truth is, I was nervous about blogging. I didn't think I had anything particularly insightful or even humorous to say. I figured I would prove my idiocy and/or lack of relevance. At best, my words would be the proverbial dust in the wind. At worst, I'd be a laughing stock for the one or two people who bothered to read what I posted.

Then a few weeks ago, I joined Twitter. I had been worried about tweeting for pretty much the same reasons. Even more so, considering Twitter's constraint of a 140 characters per tweet.

But I got over it. Not only did I tweet, I tweeted at celebrities I admire. They didn't tweet back but I like to think they saw my remarks and chuckled or nodded sagely where appropriate.
A couple of those Tweets, however, did inspire some ideas for future projects.

Then I started getting tweets from published authors, culminating in a brief exchange with a television show producer and writer concerning a writing sprint (future blog post) she started.

So thanks to my experience on Twitter, I've addressed my fears and decided I have something to contribute to the Blog-O-Sphere after all.

I've "gotten over it", something that we all have to do throughout our lives over and over again.

In my next post, I'll talk more about what I hope to do through this blog, what I'm working on and whatever my creative process is at the time. I also want to say to anyone that reads this, be as harsh as you want (within the Terms Of Service limits and whatever Michelle decides is appropriate). People engaging in creative endeavors have to develop a thick skin., we have to "get over it".

Thanks for reading!!

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Thank you

I have a habit on twitter...I thank people on a regular basis for anything as humble as a retweet or a Follow Friday mention. 

Some people think it isn't necessary for this, but I'm forced to disagree.  Saying "thank you" is an expression of gratitude.  My mother and father taught me manners, it was important to learn such things in that day.  I used to because that's what I was taught, but I do it for a different reason now.

Because I realize, for every retweet, every mention, every Follow Friday I get, they might as easily have ignored me.  They might not share my links, pictures, mentions of sales or sharing the joy in my life.  Its easy to ignore such things and when they are it can be painful.  So I say thank you, in the deepest and most sincere of gratitude.  I never expect anything to be repeated or shared, but it makes a huge difference when it does. 

So Thank You for reading.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Death of Ideas

I've been known to get ideas the way some people have kids; there's just too many to be had, the person who has them all doesn't deserve them, oh the poor thing, getting overwhelmed with the sheer glut has got to go absolutely crazy from one day to the next. 

It's a chore, it's a drag, it's probably the greatest blessing in my life.  I value all my ideas and I can't just play "favorites".  They literally are my kids.  As such they need nurturing and attention in order to grow and flourish, which I'm happy to provide, but there needs to be balance where these ideas come in, otherwise they all will die.

I've seen the death of ideas...they were good ones too, I hardly believe in a bad one.  There may be poor execution involved in a good idea, a different way it could have been handled as opposed to outright giving up on it or trying so hard it collapses in on itself.   It's a painful thing to bear witness to, at least for me.  I can only imagine how it is for others; whether it tore their soul to shreds to give it up or if they gave it up gladly.  If the former, they should know sympathy and learn courage and how to keep their future ideas alive.  If the latter, they never deserved the idea in the first place.

I've learned as I continue to get ideas and my stories blossom and bear fruit, that they're not just children, but dance partners eagerly waiting their turn with me, wanting to show me what they can do, all the possibilities that lie ahead.  The trick with that is knowing when to say "enough, time for something different for a while".   It keeps my ideas from growing old on me, so that I come back to them with fresh eyes and I'm able to say "that's not going to work; lets try this instead".

I'll take my time on my ideas as it's needed.  But give up?


Monday, May 30, 2011

Some Bag(gage) to Share

Getting deeper and deeper into my projects, I realize some of them are coming pretty close to being completed.  All that is missing is a few important steps.  Unfortunately, those steps will cost money, which like a lot of people, I don't have.

But what I do have is a secret weapon.  A fabric stash.  A rather extensive fabric stash.  Let's just say enough to make a complete wardrobe, including formal wear.  Most of it is silky, satiny and panne velvets, but I also have specialty fabrics and calicos available.  What can I do with them?

In a word; Bags.

Dice bags to be specific, but I'm letting the general public decide what to do with them.

I came up with the pattern a number of years ago...when finished and closed, they have an interesting and unique appearance which I'm pleased with.   Now I've got other ideas for them, using everything in my arsenal to raise some funds to help me finance my projects.

The bright colors and butterflies are just the start, mark my words.  In the future I forsee comics inspired, steampunk and goth bags just to add interest not to mention bags with more than four points, gear-shaped bags, or even bags without points to help appeal to the gents out there. 

In any case. I'll be posting a link to the store once I have it up and running (not to mention with a lot more bag(gage)!) 

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Time of the Typewriter; an ode

to commemorate the closing of the last typewriter factory, I wrote a little poem.

Time of the Typewriter; an ode
written by Michelle Nielsen

Late 1800’s thou wert a marvel,
made those who wrote at ease.
Neat letters replaced
handwritten scrawl
No more vials of spilled ink.
The writing desk would be replaced
by a device so filled with keys.

As it evolved it grew complex,
some could now erase,
power brought haste and speed.
The secretary now had a task
to learn an unwieldy beast.

But time marches on,
and inventions grow
things soon would be replaced.
From a simple learnt writing device
now comes a database.
The typewriter once so important
from writers to businessmen,
becomes obsolete in the times
where computers now serve them.

Copyright © Michelle Nielsen 2011

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

been a while, hasn't it?

Sorry for the dust and cobwebs, folks, I've been a tad busy lately.  Some of this has been due to life in general and the sorts of creative chaos one like myself can get into...other aspects were mostly personal.

Since y'all don't really need to know about the personal, I'll let you in on the creative happenings...hangon

is that a spider? 

nah...just a dust-bunny...

Anyway, after a long period of debate I've decided that comics are calling me in a much stronger voice than merely writing, so I'm going to start leaning in that direction.  To that effect I'm pleased to announce I'll be bringing back Spellbound and Senseless, yes further adventures of Sabine and Sparkles are in the making...who knows what else is going to happen with them.... that ones a spider....eep!!  brown recluse!!  *squish* *sigh* poor little bugger...

One day, not to long ago, a facinating image sprang to my mind...a strange little creature, a pig with dragon wings and tail.  For some strange reason, this little thing multiplied itself and became something unexpected; a new comic series I'm calling "Droinks!", a sort of in-depth look into geek culture and exploring every possible misadventure that could happen along the way.  While I'm willing to do the art for this project, I'm leary of the color...I've never really gotten out of some of my worse habits and I'm really wanting Droinks! to be something special.

Speaking of something special.  I learned earlier this year that while writers can influence artists, so too artists can influence writers.  I speak of my friend, Tris. 

While watching him create yet another fantastic celebrity portrait, I had words flashing through my head; something quick and action packed.  I typed it up, found it to resemble a brief synopsis for a comic book.  Laughing, I sent it to him to see what he thought and went to spend the evening with my parents before they left for Florida.  That evening I took my favorite journal with me to jot down notes in, and I'm glad I did.

That quick little joking synopsis turned into something else.  I got home, cobbled together a script based off what I was thinking of and sent it to him the next morning, fully expecting no response or at least a response of "thanks but not interested"...  All I'll say of that venture is I hope something comes of it in the future, there's too much positive energy surrounding that one.

Thursday, January 20, 2011


there is a monster living inside my head.

It’s old, ugly and feeds on pain..
fear and doubt it devours with relish
turns it into something beautiful

I can try and fight it,
keep it contained
leave its ramblings hidden from the world.

it refuses, fights back
grows stronger with each blow
I cannot win this battle

it leaves me wasted
emotionally drained, my words meaningless
I look in the mirror

and it stares back at me.

written by Michelle Nielsen

Monday, January 10, 2011

A Moment in Time

I wrote this as a Christmas present for a fellow writer on the site.   Personally I'm quite pleased with it, almost want to write it over as a five minute animated short.

Written by Michelle Nielsen

Left, right, left, right. He moved on, yet unmoved by his surroundings. Stark white glistened around him as he trudged on. His mantle of furs may as well have been gossamer for all they did against the penetrating cold, but his pale skin and dark cold eyes held a deeper truth. His existence depended on the dead chill.

Left right, left right. Past forests frosted white with powdery snow, transformed into frothy glaciers. His footsteps fell in single-minded determination. He paused not to look upon the dazzling diamond brilliance of the white-clad world around him. It held no beauty for him, for eons he’d known its appearance.

Left right, left right. Behind him the frozen forests stood and he ventured into the open. Vast open space shrouded in glistening white lay before him, in the far distance, framed by the fading shimmer of distant stars a single filament of ice reached for the dark heavens above that formed the cosmos. Wheeling and dancing, colliding with their neighbors, the whole of the universe drifted in an eternal cold dark night. He would not, could not be moved by the beauty and power of the cosmos. That too, he’d seen too often.

Left right, left right. Frozen feet moved of their own accord, onwards towards the glistening pinnacle of ice. As he drew closer, the goal grew clearer. The filament towered over the glacial plain. Wind hammered at him, but he would not be deterred, impervious to the biting cold. Something was trapped in the filament of ice.

 Left right, left right. He drew closer, now able to see the figure trapped within the tower of ice. He slowed. The one thing of beauty that moved him. The old cold heart of winter stirred looking upon it. A maid, young and fair looked sadly at him from her icy prison, her skin rosy where his was pale, her garments light and flowery where he wore the mantle of winter.

A withered, pale skinned hand reached for her face. His palm rested on the ice above the perfect blush of her cheek. A sigh of breath escaped his chest, longing filled his cold old body. He could not yet find another way for them to be together, but for her to be trapped eternal in a moment in time.