“But I Digress…”
Hosted by Nathan Marchand
Are you an aspiring writer? Love science fiction and fantasy? I give some handy tips on how to write speculative. In part two of my four-part series, I explain story construction conventions, including the MICE story types, and how to handle exposition and literalism. I did have some help from the great author Orson Scott Card, though.
If you’d like to see Part 1, watch it here.
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But I Digress…
Hosted by Nathan Marchand
Would you believe I’m a Transformer? In this episode, I become Nerdimus Prime and go against the critical grain in my review of Michael Bay’s newest Transformers movie–but not before battling the evil Hatertron! Is the movie “more than meets the eye”? Watch and find out!
(With apologies to James Rolf, aka the Angry Video Game Nerd, for “stealing” a modified line from his “Nightmare on Elm Street” NES game review).
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“But I Digress…”
Hosted by Nathan Marchand
As promised, I’ve started my series on writing speculative fiction. In this episode, I give tips on world building. Be sure to take notes. Leave comments so we can discuss the topic.
Please comment, like, and share!
“But I Digress…”
Hosted by Nathan Marchand
My hiatus is over! (“And there was much rejoicing. Yay…”) I’ve made it no secret that I’m a huge fan of Toho’s Godzilla franchise. Most of those films are among my guilty pleasures. So, since my friend Sergio Garza is a horror movie fan, I decided to have him review Garth Edwards’ big-budget reboot of Big G with me. Enjoy!
You can read my review of the film for GigaGeek Magazine here.
My review as a guest host on the Strangers and Aliens podcast is here.
In case you didn’t know, I’m a huge of Toho’s Godzilla franchise. I have been since high school. With a few exceptions, I consider these movies to be some of my guilty pleasures.
That being said, this week I reviewed the new American film–which I loved–not once, but twice (and there may be a third!) First, I wrote a review for GIGA Geek Magazine. The second, however, was the most fun. I was the guest host on the “Strangers and Aliens” podcast with my friend and fellow Christian writer and Godzilla fan, Ben Avery. I enjoyed it so much, I want to be on his show again. 😉 You can listen to it here.
What will the third one be? Most likely an overdue new vlog! (Until then, you can watch my review of last summer’s Pacific Rim).
And for all you kaiju fans out there, be sure to check out my own giant monster story, Destroyer.
Be careful what you delete from your laptop thinking its malware—it may be a $100 mistake.
A few weeks ago, I did just that. My laptop had been running slow and bombarding me with pop-ups. I went into control panel and deleted any programs I didn’t recognize. I restarted the computer, but I got the newfangled “blue screen of death.” I called a comic/hobby/computer shop in Columbia City, Indiana, to have it repaired. I’ve been going to that place since high school and knew everyone there, but I had never utilized the computer repair service before.
That was nearly two weeks ago. Apparently, I deleted a recovery partition, and fixing the thing is proving to be more difficult than they expected. (So they say. Other techies I’ve talked to say it shouldn’t be such an issue).
This has put quite a damper on my writing. I have several half-finished projects still on the thing’s hard drive (thankfully, I backed most of it up on a portable hard drive). I also have a few videos I want to make. Now, I can use my local libraries’ or friends’ computers, but that isn’t always convenient. As for writing, it’s been suggested I write it shorthand. I’ve done this before, but I must admit I like the immediacy of having it saved on the computer so I don’t have to transcribe it later. (Makes me wonder how old-timey writers could write multiple drafts before the advent of PCs!)
I’ve felt unproductive, for the most part, the last two weeks. It drives me crazy. Despite hanging out with some friends, I feel like I’m wasting time. Perhaps I’m a closet workaholic (I hope not). It’s like a weird version of cabin fever.
(Gotta love the Muppets!)
More likely, it’s because I have all these things to say, all these stories to tell, and I can’t get them out of me.
In college, my friend and fellow writer Keith Osmun shared a Bible passage with me he called “the writer’s verse.” It goes, “But if I say, ‘I will not mention His word or speak anymore in His name,’ His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot” (Jeremiah 20:9).
Now, I’m not about to put my writing—or anyone’s writing—on par with Scripture. However, it does describe most writers, especially Christian writers. God made us storytellers. He blessed us with talent and ideas. If we keep them in, we would burst like overfilled water balloons. In Jeremiah’s case, it was like containing an internal inferno. It will eat us up inside until it is released. Since I’ve temporarily lost my primary means of release, I’m about to lose my mind. No wonder most writers are neurotic.
Anyway, that’s another reason I’ve been quiet—too quiet—on the site. I meant to write something about why I’m not participating in National Poetry Writing Month this year, but that will have to wait.
Until then, fellow writers, be like the Human Torch and “Flame on!”
You’ve probably been wondering where I’ve been the last few weeks. Well, I’ve been a busy fanboy. I decided to utilize the connections I’ve been making in the writing world—most notably Jonathan Maberry—and you won’t believe what I managed to do. I convinced Steven Moffat, the showrunner for Doctor Who, to let me make an American version of the show!
First, I must say that I was honored that “the Grand Moff” took time out of his busy schedule (what with Peter Capaldi filming his first season as the Doctor) to talk to me. I told him about a Buzzfeed article (and subsequent video) published a few months back where a fan mused about the equivalent American actors who could’ve played the Doctor had the show been an American production. This inspired me. I was a longtime Whovian and had written the pilot for what I thought would be a respectful American remake of Who. The episode was entitled “Bigger on the Outside.” The episode would start in the 1960s, and the TARDIS would be a phone booth. He said he’d look it over. A few days later, he called me and said he loved the script and so did BBC. Obviously, my jaw dropped. “This might distract the fans from hating me,” he said. I immediately started talking about casting. I told him my friend Scott Klaus, an even longer-time Whovian, would be perfect, but then Moffat threw me a curveball. “You should be the American Doctor!” he says. “What?!” I blurt. He says Mr. Maberry referred him to my Facebook page, and he liked the photo of my Tenth Doctor cosplay. But what convinced him I should play the part was this photo:
He took one look at that and thought, “He can play the Doctor, too!”
I tried to tell him I wasn’t cool enough to be the Doctor, but he would hear none of it. He was already talking with executives at BBC America and the SyFy Channel about the show. “A thirteen-episode season should be enough, right?” he asked. “Um…sure…” I replied.
Looks like I finally got my big break, True Believers! The writer and star of my own science fiction TV series!
Whether it’s picked up by BBC America or SyFy, the show will premiere April 1, 2015.
As my favorite Doctor always said, “Allons-y!”
I (usually) have the patience of a saint, but even a saint has his limits.
While things like the Internet and self-publishing have given writers greater opportunities for instant gratification, the writing life remains the slowest business in the world. A writer must have patience, among other things, or else he will give up early in the race. I know this firsthand. It took at least six months longer than normal for Hades Publications to pick up Pandora’s Box, and even then it was because I pestered them to the point of a restraining order. It takes time for editors to rummage through manuscripts and separate the wheat from the chaff. Then that “wheat” must be threshed (i.e. edited).
Lately, I’ve felt like my life and especially my career have been in a holding pattern. I’ve tried to contact publishers about writing for them; agents about representing me; and artists about creating artwork for self-published books. Many of them take a while to respond, if at all. I joined a freelance writers group, but was put on the waiting list since there aren’t any openings right now. I tried to sign up for this year’s Writers’ Corner at Gen-Con, but it filled up fast, so I was—you guessed it—put on the waiting list. There’s no guarantee I’ll return as a merchant to the convention this year. 🙁 I’ve also been considering going to grad school, but due to a combination of ignorance and tarrying, I may have to postpone that until next year.
This drives me crazy because I am a man of action. When I set my mind to do something, I do it. Unfortunately, I can only do so much. Eventually, I must let someone else, like an editor, do his job before I can continue. On the other hand, I’m not immune to the sting of failure. Past disappointments have paralyzed me; made me hesitant to forge ahead. It’s hard to move when you haven’t any momentum. Perhaps my difficulty with beginnings goes beyond writing stories.
I began 2014 with the goal of trusting God more. Little did I realize that like Morgan Freeman’s God said in Evan Almighty would be true: “If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does He give them the opportunity to be patient?” Patience, like most things, requires trust. In order to foster both, one must have opportunities for them. An athlete can’t develop muscles unless he exercises. So it is with developing virtues.
I say all of this to say that, perhaps, these holding patterns are God’s ways of answering my prayers. I may not like it, but in the end, it will be the best thing for me.
As the old saying goes, “Good things come to those who wait.”
However, I think my favorite Bible verse says it better: “But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31 KJV).
I shouldn’t be writing this blog post. No, really. I have a short story whose deadline is the end of next month. It’s for an anthology a fellow writer is assembling. I started it last night. I should be working on that. Why am I not? I’m stuck. Call it “writer’s block,” if you want, but I can’t get the story going.
Every writer, if he’s honest, will admit that while he loves the craft, there is always a part of writing that is most difficult for him. Personally, I’ve noticed I usually have the most trouble starting a story. This isn’t always true (I drilled out last week’s flash fiction in less than 30 minutes, I think), and sometimes I overcome that initial difficulty faster than others, but it still tends to be the hardest point in a story for me. The ideas are swirling in my head like overzealous bees locked in a hive, but when I stare at that blank page, silence falls. (Gotta love unintentional Doctor Who references). Suddenly those bees don’t want out. I managed to crank out a few hundred words, but it was a chore and I hated most of them.
However, when I get past that initial “block” and find the story’s rhythm and voice—it’s like dancing with a whirlwind. Characters come alive; descriptions jump off the page; and settings envelope my mind’s eye until they become my mini-world. It is glorious! I live for times like that. All writers do.
But in order to get into that “zone,” I need to break through that first wall. Some days I can smash through it like Superman (which is funny because I have a Supes costume—maybe I should wear it during those hard days!). Other times, I’m a mere mortal who bruises his shoulder while constantly running into the wall hoping to find a weak spot. Regardless of whether I smash through the quickly or not, it’s a triumph, for out of the white-hot throes of creative energy a new story is birthed. This one I’m working on in particular is one I’m excited about. I just need to get break down the wall.
Now, where’s my Superman costume? 😛
What’s your “wall” in writing? Let’s discuss it in the comments.
Author’s Intro: No new blog post this week, but I do have a new story to share. It’s a flash fiction prompted by an assignment in my local writers’ group to write about E.S.P. The following story is loosely based on my own life. (I’ll leave it up to you to decide which parts are “true”). 😛 Enjoy!
Pizza and a Psychic
By Nathan Marchand
Like Garfield, I hate Mondays. Nothing happens, especially at Pizza Barn, and when you’re a delivery driver, that means no tip money and, worse yet, unending boredom. I spend my time folding boxes and oiling pans. Mundane. Menial. Mind-numbing. There’s just one problem with that: I churn out crazy ideas when I’m bored. Like answering customers’ phone calls with obviously phony names. One time on Independence Day, I answered the phone saying I was George Washington. I was disappointed the customer didn’t notice.
As I was folding what seemed like my thousandth box, the phone rang. I jogged over since no one else liked answering phones. The customer’s name and phone number flashed up on the computer screen. I pressed my thumb on the fingerprint scanner and picked up the phone.
“Thank you for calling Pizza Barn. This is Joey. How may I help you?” I droned reflexively, trying to smile (my manager says customers can “hear a smile” on the phone).
“I’d like to place an order for pick-up,” replied the woman on the phone.
Darnit. Not a delivery! I thought.
I tapped the name flashing on the screen and brought up the customer’s info.
“Is this for Smith?” I asked.
A brief pause. “Yes,” said the customer, surprised.
“Is your address 234 Main Street?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
My boredom suddenly seized my mouth. I can’t be held responsible for what I said next.
“I’m psychic.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Another pause. “What do I want to order?”
I figured I’d take a shot in the dark, get it wrong, and explain we have caller ID. We’d both have a good laugh, and then I’d take her order.
So, I said, “A large pepperoni pizza and an order of breadsticks with cheese.” That’s about as bland and generic an order you can get—and I learned I was dealing with an equally bland and generic customer!
“That’s right! Oh, my gosh!”
I raised my eyebrows. Talk about luck, I thought.
Ms. Smith kept raving about my E.S.P. as I keyed in her order. After a minute or so, I read back her order and gave her a total. But instead of saying goodbye, she asked me another question.
“Can you tell me my fortune? What will happen to me tonight?”
I rolled my eyes. I wanted to tell her the truth, but she sounded so earnest, I decided to humor her.
“You’ll meet the man of your dreams and win five-hundred dollars in the state lottery.”
Ms. Smith squealed. “I’ll pick up a ticket on my way to the concert tonight! Thank you!” With that, she hung up.
I didn’t think much of it the rest of the evening.
The next day, I was equally as bored folding boxes when the phone rang again. I reflexively answered, not looking at the computer screen.
“Thank you for calling Pizza Barn. This is Joey. How may I help you?”
“Joey! Thanks for answering. You were right!”
“What?!”
I looked at the screen—it was Ms. Smith.
“I won five-hundred dollars and snagged a boyfriend last night at the concert!”
“That’s…great, Miss Smith….” What else could I say?
“I told him about you, and he asked me to call you for advice before he went to the horse races today.”
“Well, um…”