But what about love?

Every author has a wheelhouse. It’s the thing they compose best, penning the type of stories which interest them the most. I have mine: the nerdy genres.

My completed novel is an adventure in a Middle Earth ish setting. I’ve also finished writing an early reader kids book. My two works in progress are a Christmas themed haunted story and a modern sci-fi about superpowers during a pandemic. If you were to scroll through the list of book ideas on my phone, you’ll see a recurring theme: fantasy, science fiction, and horror.

It makes sense. I was raised on a diet of CS Lewis and Star Wars. As I got older I explored the works of H.G. Wells and Michael Crichton. I spent my high school years secretly watching Star Trek: The Next Generation and X-Files because my parents would have said no if I asked permission. I’ve devoured almost everything written by Frank Peretti, Dean Koontz, and Steven King. A few books from King’s son Joe Hill have also passed through my reading list. The scary and fantastical tales are my wheelhouse.

My wife occasionally challenges me with a genre far outside my comfort zone. “You should write a romance novel.” It’s always a hard pass for me.

“I can’t.” I tell her.

Not an erotic story. She makes sure I know she doesn’t want me to write anything steamy. What she wants from me is a cozy romance like her favorite author Nicholas Sparks.

Still, I object. It’s not a lack of desire fueling my adamant nos. There’s been an idea for a romantic comedy rattling inside my cranium for nearly three decades which I would write if I was talented enough. But I’m not, so I don’t.

Reasons I’m unable to author love stories abound. I don’t read romance novels so I’m unfamiliar with the structure and tropes of the genre. I’m still learning how to write compelling female characters. And my previous attempts at lovey dovey prose sucked. I mean that with ten toes down. They were awful.

In a writing class I took a long time ago in a galaxy far away, the instructor told us there were four primary motivations for creating any form of art: anger, sadness, fear, and love. One could argue there is a fifth inspiration: drugs. But even intoxicated people experience terror, grief, ire, and adoration. “I love you man” says the drunkest dude at every tavern in America.

The teenaged version of me got his start with poetry. It’s all cheesy in hindsight but also decent considering my lack of maturity and experiential wisdom. When I was pissed off I could use words to explain how I felt. When I was afraid, my vocabulary was big enough to feel it. When I was heartbroken, my pen and paper were the only friends who could understand. But when I was in the throes of a crush, words failed me. I didn’t want to write about it, I wanted to experience it in its fullness - natural talents be damned.

My sorrow was internalized but elation was live and in color. Of course, even though I didn’t know it at the time, I was struggling with chronic depression. The religious community around me preached how negative emotions were sinful leaving me with no safe place to express myself. Instead I scribbled away in silence. Until I was happy, then I was free to display my emotions without a worry.

When I finally fell in love, I tried writing poetry to accompany my newfound affections. The end result was terrible. I made more than one attempt. Every repeated iteration was somehow worse than the previous so I eventually quit trying. Besides, it is easier to sing along with love songs than to compose one myself.

When it comes to crazy stupid love, the deeply committed bond with nearly divine intimacy, words are not my forte. I’m not much of a romantic. Just ask my wife. I’m more goofy and awkward. Besides, other people are better at describing these emotions of tenderness and passion.

For example: I’m reading “Watching Evil Dead: Unearthing the Radiant Artist Within” by Josh Malerman. The book is about the twin trajectories of his writing career and his relationship with his wife through the perspective of introducing his wife to one of his favorite movies which she had never seen.

courtesy of Del Rey/Penguin Random House

As Malerman, his wife, and some friends prepared to press play on the DVD and watch 1981’s The Evil Dead, he says the following.

“She’s smiling and it feels like we’re alone on a gently rocking boat. Not that the world is turning but we’re out to sea and we’ve been out to sea since we met. I wonder if that’s a hallmark of love - the two of you could be anywhere but when you look at each other it’s just you two alone on the adventure.”

Just like that, the author of “Bird Box” elloquently explained how I feel about my wife better than I could have imagined on my own. Annie is my partner in adventures both past and future. We have been together for what will be ten years soon and I still get that feeling when I look at her, that sense she is the only thing that matters in my world. I’m not mad at Malerman for beating me to the punch. His words are beautiful, painting a picture I could see but never describe. It’s like he psychically delved into my temporal lobe and recognized the mess of creative ability and shortcomings and said “Me too, I got your back.”

If you want me to tell a story about an ad executive in Seattle who sees ghosts, I can do that. A tale about a kid who reappears simultaneously in multiple cities after being missing for ten years? I’m on it. A dystopian world where death is impossible? Sure, that’s in my wheelhouse. But that romantic comedy about a single lady who caught a bouquet at a wedding and rushes to get married before her best friend’s wedding? Maybe someday, but not any time soon. Although, if that someday ever arrives, my wife will be satisfied.

What’s My Problem?

I have a problem.

I have one completed young adult fantasy novel: written, edited, beta read, edited again, revised, and formatted. My attempts to find an agent have (so far) been unsuccessful. I’m pondering options between a complete rewrite, continued queries with the book as is, or pursuing self-publication.

That’s not my problem.

While in the query trenches I started writing my next book, a speculative fiction novel about a pandemic and superpowers set in Seattle. Then last year during the holiday season, I began the first draft of a Christmas themed horror story (for which I previously had an outline ready) which is also set in Seattle. Both of those books are somewhere in the middle stages of composition. I’m bouncing back and forth between them based on my emotional state. Am I in a scary mood or an action mood?

But that’s not my problem either.

My brain is always active, even when I’m not writing. New ideas abound. There is a note in my phone’s notes app with a list of sixty-six story ideas. They range from kid-lit to adult audiences. A few of them are ideas my wife and I want to collaborate on, one is my 12 year old daughter’s idea. They are mostly horror stories, science fiction, and fantasy tales with a few thrillers. Some of them have brief blurbs, some have more fleshed out descriptions with character names, and a few have full-fledged outlines waiting for me to place fingertips to keyboard.

Even that isn’t my problem.

There is a spreadsheet saved on my laptop with every character name I’ve ever used. Completed novel, work in progress, synopsis, outline, blurb, random notes. All of it has been combed through for every named character, living or dead, speaking on nonspeaking, human or animal. It is a simple spreadsheet with two columns, one for the character’s identity, and one for the title of the book where the character appears or is mentioned.

Obsessive, but not a problem.

Yesterday, my list of sixty-six grew to sixty-seven. This morning, I composed an outline for this new inspiration. As if that wasn’t enough (thanks to my autistic power to hyper focus) I wrote the first draft of the first chapter for my sixty-seventh WIP during my lunch break.

We’re getting closer to my problem but this still isn’t it.

What’s my real problem? Is it ADHD? Possibly. Is it the autism? Also likely. Is it the abundance of potential, multitude of unfinished projects, and the sheer volume of material in limbo? Absolutely. But the biggest problem from all of it?

I don’t know what to do with any of it. Call it choice paralysis. Call it SQUIRREL! Call it biting off more than I can chew. Call it an overactive imagination. Call it wishful thinking. Call it procrastination. Call it anything you want.

Whatever it is, clearly, I have a problem.

The Curse of Creativity

Creative folks are some of my favorite people. I love artists. My dad is a woodworker, my mom a crafter and clothing maker. One of my aunts makes and sells handcrafted stuffed animals, and another aunt produces multimedia art combining photography and painting. One of my best friends is a DJ and a dancer. Throughout my adolescence and early adulthood, I surrounded myself with thespians and musicians. These are my people. As a writer and a DJ, I understand other creatives much better than humans with no artistic outlet.

When my wife and I first started dating, her artistic flair was one of the traits which attracted me to her. She was a photographer and photo editor. We knew early on in our relationship we would be able to work on our crafts separately together - independent in each other’s company. It was a beautiful symbiosis. Over time, I’ve discovered she’s more than a photographer. She’s also a painter and a jewelry maker.

As we are settling into a new house, her creative mind is overclocking. She is an overflowing fountain of decorative ideas: furniture and room colors and flooring and paint and … A couple weeks ago, she saw a picture of a mural painted in someone else’s home then decided she would do something similar in our living room. After receiving zero objections from me, she’s begun the project, still a work in progress. Last weekend, we bought a $5 end table at Habitat for Humanity and set it up in its desired location. Later that evening, she insisted we epoxy it to match the mural she’s painting. It’s now a swirly blue table and looks great.

She has a dilemma though. Her fount of ideas is relentless. It’s a never ending stream of consciousness with no off switch. I hear her say the words “What if we” at least a few times daily. These plans and thoughts and dreams erupting from her cranium are wonderful and delightful. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough time in the day to make all of her artistic longings become tangible.

I have similar struggles. As someone who has studied history and possesses an autistic knack for pattern recognition, it’s hard to watch the news and not guess what’s coming next. Sometimes my predictions are wrong - see my previous blog post for an example. But I can’t make it stop. My brain is wired to analyze if/then scenarios and morph those into digestible stories for others to consume. My furious creativity doesn’t cease at sociopolitical precognitions either. Any time I attend a baseball or hockey game, my brain constantly sorts through my internal jukebox to conjure which songs would better fit the moment than the songs selected by the stadium or arena’s in house DJ. And my writing … book ideas are piling up in the notes app on my phone and I know I’ll never live long enough to author all of them.

This is the curse of creativity. We are imaginative 24 hours a day. When we wake, when we sleep. When we struggle, when we thrive. Our brains are constantly visualizing new worlds, new words, new images, new melodies, and new possibilities. We can’t quit; it’s a part of what makes us who we are. To complicate matters - we all have day jobs. At least, those of us who haven’t retired have day jobs. Time card punches don’t stem the tide of creative musings. We get new ideas nearly all day every day. Some of us manage it better than others, and I am not one of them. But I try. My notes are meticulous and abundant. Book ideas, reminders to add certain songs into specific playlists, and board games I want to buy for family game night, I keep a record of it all. The noise never ends so I channel it as best as I can.

If this sounds like you, fear not. You are not alone. The curse of creativity is accompanied by a life of beauty, wonder, and awe. It might be devastating as much as it is comforting. In the creative curse you’ll find catharsis, healing, confusion, and purpose but only if you allow it. To thrive as an artist, you must always be ready because inspiration may strike at any (and often peculiar) moment.

My brother-in-law lives with us. He’s got a multitude of disabilities which prevent him from living independently. My wife is his caretaker and he’s our third wheel. Caring for and about disabled individuals can be frustrating so I attempt to have as much fun with him as possible. One of my methods to enjoy time together is to call him silly names. When I wake him up in the morning, or call for him to get shoes on so we can go somewhere, or bring him his bedtime snack, I’ll call him something absurd.

“Hey nacho cheese … ”
“Hey Larry Curley and Moe … ”
“Hey Macarena … ”
“Hey there Delilah … ”
“Hey Steven Michael Montgomery … ”
“Hey turducken … ”
“Hey spic n span … ”

Sometimes he’ll laugh. Sometimes he says “Stop iiiiit.” Sometimes he’ll let me know I scared him. Regardless his reaction, I always get a smile - enough to make the effort worth it.

Last night, with a banana in my hand, I approached his room intending to say “Hey dune buggy” but there was a short circuit between my frontal lobe and my lips because what I actually spoke did not follow my plan. When I say inspiration can appear at the strangest moments, the interaction with my bro-in-law last night is proof of concept. I blurted out some gibberish twist on dune buggy when the moment arrived. I handed him the banana while my hippocampus lit the beacons for Gondor. As I walked away pondering my verbal blunder I thought, “That would be a great name for the main character of a novel.” I unlocked my phone, opened the notes app, and created a reminder of an epic character name I need to use some time in the future.

What’s the name you ask? Well, an author needs to keep some secrets. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.

Don’t Eat the Dark

Pretend for a moment you’re a high school teacher grading term papers. You’re reading the work of a student that shows potential but doesn’t try hard. You can tell that this particular student composed two and a half pages of decent material but filled the rest of the assignment with frivolous filler words and repeated sentences so they could meet the minimum ten page requirement. That’s what reading “We Ate the Dark” was like.

“We Ate the Dark” is filled with an excess of flowery language. Adjectives and adverbs abound. While such parts of speech are not evil in small doses and they’re essential in some circumstances. However, the author here uses both to the point of absurdity, distracting from the actual story. She often employs multiple adjectives to describe one noun then continues to throw in some nonsensical similes and metaphors just for unwarranted measure. Like it wasn’t enough for her to say “the sun made everything gold” - she added a word saying “the sun made everything a violent gold.” And that’s the least harmless example. Every time a character saw the sky she had to describe it with a Parthenon of descriptors. Every human body part from fingertips to hair had to be verbally illustrated with over the top comparisons to the point of being inane and redundant. I’m sure she’s trying to flex her mastery of the English language but it comes across as storytelling ineptitude. She breaks the ‘show don’t tell’ rule like she’s hellbent on pissing off every editor in the publishing industry.

The author does not know when to quit. At one point she described something as appearing like a mirage then went on to explain what a mirage was, as if she wanted to use the metaphor but had to define the metaphor and employed extra adjectives to describe the definition. It’s all so unnecessary and the repetition is exhausting. Speaking of repeating vocabulary, she really likes the word sanguine. I understand using it once or twice but the quantity of its inclusion was garish.

There are two things that characters did over and over throughout the book: bite their lips until they’re red and dig fingernails into their palms until they bleed. Does she not know any other way to portray anxiety or stress? She spent an entire chapter repeatedly telling readers the main character was mad and wants to tell everyone why but never does it. In another chapter, several characters tilted their heads up at least a dozen times. But not just that chapter - they tilted their heads up countless times throughout the book. If I ever read the phrase “tilted her head up” in any other book I might enter a rage filled fugue state. I even used the ctrl+f function in my manuscripts to make sure that phrase doesn’t appear in any of the books I have written/am writing.

The unnecessary ornate language and never-ending repetition are not the author’s only literary sins. One side character isn’t given a name until the book is almost over. The story is told through multiple third person viewpoints except for one chapter about 90% of the way through the book when she painfully transitions to a plural first person narrative with a mix of “we” and “our” pronouns as the narrator. And the big climatic scene concludes with that bizarre chapter. While the rest of the book is over-described, the first person POV chapter is under-described. It’s so vague it seems the author didn’t know how to explain what was happening so she filled the pages with the literary equivalent of over-saturated terrible CGI common in big dumb action movies. She created an oversaturated story with detailed imagery of every miniscule item, texture and flavor permeating every page, only to give readers a blurry, meaningless, and confusing climax.

After that, the final 10% of the book was used for … I don’t know actually. I guess she intended it to tie up loose ends but no loose ends were actually wrapped into a bow. Most writers use this section of the three act structure to ramp down the action and resolve conflict. This author polluted her closing chapters by creating additional conflicts. Instead of completing storylines, the author creates new ones. One of the wrap up chapters contained a lengthy and pointless flashback of a main character. Then the next chapter presented another flashback (shorter but still frivolous) from a different character. Some side characters were theoretically present during this elongated closing but often ignored as if they were absent. In the end, there is no end. The story stops abruptly, a cliffhanger but not the good kind. It’s the most unsatisfying ‘the end’ imaginable. I’m sure the author was intentionally trying to set up a sequel or multiple sequels which (if they do or ever will exist) I have no interest in reading.

This is perhaps the worst book I’ve ever read, mind numbing from the beginning and torturous until the final page. Why did I continue to the next page and the next one and the next once I realized it was nothing more than a steaming pile of horse manure topped with a glittery bow? Is it masochism? Is it an unhealthy desire to finish anything I start no matter how unbearable?

No. I read the whole book because underneath the mountains of fluff and filler is a molehill of a good story. A murder mystery with queer representation, an alternate world, redneck fantasy, and magical realism. Despite my efforts to guess the culprit, I was wrong. While the reveal of the real perpetrator was anticlimactic, I was still surprised. Thematically, the book approaches topics of grief, trust, isolation, rejection, abandonment, and betrayal within the confines of a chosen family which are all worthy and valuable discussions unfortunately ham-fisted in “We Ate the Dark.”

Half of a star out of ten. It would have been better as a short story instead of a novel. The skeleton of a decent story is the only thing saving this book from a zero star rating.

Wanderlust and the Source

Bedtime is sacred in our house. Not because it’s the routine shutting off all the lights and closing our eyes to sleep. Annie and I value it because these are the precious few minutes we can chat and connect free of interruptions from kids who don’t appreciate their bedtime as much as we do.

In these final waking hours of our day we share the best and worst parts of everything happening before we got home. We air the stresses we cannot share with anyone else. We comfort each other as lovers and encourage each other as teammates. We create to-do lists and bucket lists. We set reminders on our phones so we might recall those things our ADHD is prone to forget. We mutually doom scroll social media side by side, occasionally holding our phone to the side with instructions, “Hey check this out.” We ponder the benefits and challenges of various ideas. We talk religion, sex, and politics. We discuss plans for both the immediate and distant future. And, most importantly, we dream together.

This is the key ingredient for the magic binding us together. When we think of what life will be like five years ahead or fifty years from now, we envision our hypothetical future lives as a cohesive unit. These are shared aspirations, not individual exploits. We have had this ingrained in our relationship as long as we’ve known each other. On our second date, we talked about places we’ve always longed to visit. She said she wanted to go to Scotland to see her ancestral homelands. Two of my bucket list destinations (Paisley Abbey and Loch Ness) happen to be in Scotland. We laughed and smiled at the idea of going there together and fulfilling our dreams at the same time.

Annie and I both have an insatiable wanderlust. We feel the tug of the journey on our hearts. Places exotic to historic, from pristine wilderness to ancient ruins, waterfalls and temples, castles and farmers markets. We want nothing more for our lives to go, and see, and do. We yearn to wander foreign lands and disappear for a while.

Real, actual, legitimate picture of us.

Earlier this week, I told my therapist how I believe the best education we can receive is found outside our own culture. As much as I would enjoy a trip to Disneyland to hang out at Galaxy’s Edge, I would rather visit the original Tatooine Star Wars set in Tunisia. Given the choice between a week at Universal Studios or traveling to India during Holi, I would choose the later. Annie would do the same. The selection of culture over capitalism is an easy one.

Unfortunately, Annie and I grew up believing travel was for other people. Both our families were poor and the expense of overseas excursions was too daunting - an unobtainable wish left to wither on the vines of our dying hopes. This wanderlust ached in our bones and called our spirits yet we felt confined to weekend roadtrips and local attractions. We wanted to see the world but doubted we would ever be globetrotters.

All it takes is one little break to shatter the exoskeleton of false beliefs. Two and a half years ago, a new job sent me to Tampa Bay for three weeks of training. Annie and our two youngest girls flew out to visit a weekend while I was there so we could partake in a family Florida adventure. It was the nudge we needed to shed the idea we weren’t meant to travel. How could we hold on to such a concept while doing the thing we thought we’d never be able to do. A few months later we went to Waikiki to celebrate birthdays of mine and Steven’s. Then a month later we were on a cruise boat to Alaska for our belated honeymoon. Since then we’ve made a return trip to Hawaii along with little jaunts to Cheyenne, Boise, Portland, Cranbrook BC, and multiple trips to Tacoma/Seattle/Everett.

We’re not ready to quit. Between now and the end of the year, our feet will tread ground in Mexico, Costa Rica, and Columbia adding three stamps to our passports. Not long after, I’ll be headed to Phoenix with one of my best friends for a DJ gig. Next year, Annie and I have plans to take the family yurt camping for a week and we’ve already booked a vacation to the Bahamas.

Over the last few years, we’ve suddenly began living a live we never imagined would be possible for either of us. We’re finally able to sate that insatiable wanderlust. Our journey begun, we’re only getting started.

After explaining all of this to my therapist, he shared with me a quote from Carl Jung:

According to my therapist, this is what I’m experiencing. After turning forty, I began to truly discover who I was and define my priorities. Now forty-five, I’m finally able to be the person God created me to be. Everything before this was just research. He thinks it’s awesome to watch me discover myself, to see joy unfold in real time. He’s had a front row seat to witness anxiety and depression melt away as I become the real me.

So here we are, Annie and I are world travelers, dreaming of distant shores. But I think I’ve always been one even before I was one. My wanderlust had to come from somewhere.

I was never a good student. I was lucky to get a B in anything. Through most of my academic career, I barely held on with a C average. In sixth and seventh grade, my report cards were filled with Cs and Ds. I got my first A in eighth grade - not just a basic A - but perfect scores throughout. I ended this class with 100%, an A+.

Annie and I chilled last night, enjoying our bedtime routine. I brought this up with her: my discussion at therapy, how excited we are about upcoming travel plans, and other places we want to go (side note: she’s been looking at cheap airline rates to various European locales). Then I posed the question about my school days. After a string of barely passing grades, in which class did I get my first A? She responded without hesitation.

“Geography.”

Correct answer. I struggled in traditional education until the geography class mandated for all junior high students of my generation in the Marysville school district. For the first time in my life I didn’t just succeed, I thrived.

Perhaps I missed my calling as a tour guide or a travel agent. Maybe that is my life in an alternate universe. In this dimension though, I had to wait until my 40s to figure out I was always meant to be this person. Looking back though, I should have known all along. I should have realized this fact about my personality when I was a teenager. I grokked geography because deep down my soul hungered to be there. Every map, every capital city, every monument we studied was a potential destination. I was meant to fly, or drive, or float to anywhere other than here. Or teleport if such technology ever becomes viable.

When Inspiration Strikes

What does it take to be a writer? Some would advise writing a thousand words every day. The logic is sound. Composing words at such a rate would allow an author to compose a new novel every three months. Other suggestions include setting a schedule, regular time slots each (or every other) day dedicated to your craft. A few authors are lucky enough to consider writing their main source of income and they treat it like a day job with built in weekends and vacation. My recommendation? Define what it takes on your own.

I say this because I am not a normal writer. The odds of becoming a writer were never in my favor. Let me explain.

Photo courtesy of Gratisography

As a kid, I loved to read and was able to consume books well above my grade level. However, I had (have?) a learning disability making reading a slow process. I must read and reread paragraphs and pages for the sake of comprehension. My brain often rearranges word order or insert nonexistent vocabulary changing the meaning of texts on the first read. My ADHD imagination frequently distracts me from the subject matter before me, either predicting what will happen next, question what I would do in similar circumstances, or drift entirely into unrelated universes. Despite my challenges, I’ve always craved a good story; it’s been a lifelong pursuit since childhood.

Reading is an essential skill for authors. Readers are better writers because they are influenced by the syntax and cadence of other authors. If you read my work, you might see my influences from the masters of horror: Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Anne Rice. You could recognize the blend of fantasy and mythology I’ve learned from JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis, and Max Brooks. A little deeper and you’ll discover how my skills were shaped by the poetic approach of Jackie Hill Perry, Sho Baraka, and Jason Petty (AKA Propaganda) and the inspirational works of Rob Bell, Carlos Whitaker, Rachel Held Evans, and Donald Miller.

The reading prerequisite of becoming an author is in my wheelhouse, even if it takes me much longer to read a single book than most people. However, I’d argue the content of the books I consume stick with me longer than most audiences. I can still explain plot point by plot point my favorite book from fourth grade and the novel I loved most when I was 21. My brain is disordered but it’s also Pandora’s box for trivial things.

Ask my elementary and junior high teachers if I had the potential of becoming an author, most of them would laugh at you. They might tell you I had the imagination to tell stories but lacked the attention span to actually write a book. Worse, every single one of my former testers would tell you how much I hated writing. You would hear testimony of how I actively avoided writing at all costs, even skipping homework if it required too much pencil to paper labor. They would show you examples of my horrendous penmanship, bad enough to make the sloppiest handwriting appear legible in comparison. Maybe if you’re lucky, you would meet the lone teacher who discovered I could accomplish more completing assignments and tests orally than if I had to write it all on printed worksheets.

In addition to my learning disability and my diagnosed ADHD, I was also functioning (I use that term loosely) with undiagnosed autism. By default, I interacted with my peers and saw the world differently than neurotypical kids. Without an official diagnosis, I had zero supports to navigate my environment as an autistic individual. I had to figure out how to learn on my own terms because what schools were doing for me wasn’t working.

Imagine if you will: a neurodivergent nerd with learning disabilities, from an impoverished home life, who hated writing and was a slow reader, churned through a failing education system, and frequently the target of emotional and physical bullying. That child has more potential of becoming a comedian than an author. The odds were stacked against me. But look at me now.

Wait. I still do not like my odds. I am a parent with a full time job who moonlights as a DJ, is a licensed minister, enjoys taking my wife out on dates, and lives on a farm. Where do I find the time to write? No clue. There isn’t an adequate answer for that question. It’s a thing I do without understanding how I do it. Like I said, I am not a normal writer.

My autism and ADHD do not allow for boredom, turning hobbies into obsessions and often leading down rabbit holes. My slow reading rate takes me a month to complete a book a speed reader could burn through in a couple hours. My obligations chew through time like The Very Hungry Caterpillar eating its way to the end of its story. I don’t have the freedom to set aside a few daily hours for writing or research. I don’t have the time, patience, or energy to scribble down one thousand words every day. I can only write when inspiration strikes. I’m sure other writers also work in similar spurt patterns and yet I still feel abnormal. I’m not sure how common my revolving periods of calm and flurry is inside the writing world.

My first book, ‘Kingdom of Odd’ took a little over two years to progress from the composition of the outline to completion of the first draft, and another year to slog through three revisions after feedback from beta readers. During that time, my now eleven year old was compelled to invent her own story idea for an early reader book called ‘A Unicorn Wish.’ She created the characters and setting then I helped her create an outline. Sometime while writing ‘Kingdom of Odd’ my ADHD got eager and thought of a few (several) other ideas for future books including a Christmas themed ghost story, a science fiction tale about superpowers in a global pandemic, and a picture book about love and global cultures. Those thoughts were jotted down in my phone’s notes app and I continued to focus on Kingdom of Odd. By focus, I mean I got distracted again. Inspiration struck and my autism said “Now or never buddy.” I opened a new Word document and I frantically typed a full first chapter for ‘Only for a Day’ (the superhero/pandemic one) based on the brief outline I had stored in my phone a few weeks earlier.

Nothing to worry about though. I dove back into completing ‘Kingdom of Odd,’ provided copies to some beta readers then awaited their responses. With feedback pending, I fleshed out the outline of ‘Only for a Day’ and picked up composing story where the first chapter ended. This should be the path normal authors follow: write a book, finish a book, start the next book. But I’m not a normal writer. Because I also used this time to write a complete outline for ‘The 12 Ghosts of Christmas’ including character profiles for each of the twelve ghosts. My brain also invented a few more (several) book ideas: alien invasions, dystopian futures, alternate dimensions, revenge, time travel, ghosts, and a lot more.

It’s OK though, I was focused on ‘Only for a Day.’ Then the notes and recommendations for ‘Kingdom of Odd’ were delivered and I went through rounds of edits and revisions. In January of this year, I started querying the completed manuscript to agents and returned to writing the first draft of ‘Do Dragons Sleep?’ I know what you’re thinking, that’s not ‘Only for a Day.’ Correct. But I had the idea, I created an outline and had to start the new project or else my mind would revolt. So now I’m querying a young adult medieval fantasy novel, and juggling two rough drafts, one a modern science fiction for adults, the second a young adult coming of age story with Norse influences.

Sweet. I can bounce back and forth, right? Then my wife threw me a curve ball. She thought of a horror story and wants me to help her write it. We spent a couple nights compiling an outline and character profiles. I wrote the first chapter. Now I have three works in progress. Annie wasn’t done though: she also had a plan for a children’s book. She wrote the first draft then I proposed some revisions. We got feedback from friends and family, I rewrote the tale and she set out to complete all the artwork. Once she finished the pictures, I began formatting ‘Polly was a Wog.’ So four WIPs.

Then a couple weeks ago, I was listening to a discussion on a podcast about the fear of death. Naturally this spawned an idea for another book so I added it to my notes app. However my special blend of autism and ADHD couldn’t leave a small spark alone. A day later, my mental processes stoked the embers into a consuming fire leaving me no choice than to write an intro and first scene of ‘Thanatophobia,’ a home invasion horror story and my fifth WIP.

Here’s where I stand. One book in the query trenches, three books in progress (one without an outline), and one book written but unformatted. I still have horses to feed, kids two raise, a wife to love and cherish, two more DJ gigs scheduled, a two week vacation booked with foreign travel, occasional visits to an open mic night, blog posts to publish, and weekly therapy. I haven’t even mentioned my recent foray into spoken word poetry. How do I do it all? I really, truly do not know.

Grounding

Something interesting happened at San Diego Comic-Con. The cast of Fantastic Four: First Steps graced the stage as a part of Marvel’s big presentation. That’s normal though. Nothing spectacular in what Marvel doing what they have been doing for more than a decade. The most intriguing moment is what transpired while they were on stage. During the F4 segment, actor Pedro Pascal had a moment of panic and reached out to touch the arm of co-star Vanessa Kirby. Understanding what was happening, she took hold of him and the two continued hand in hand.

To the inexperienced eye, this might seem like an innocent gesture, perhaps even romantic. After all, they do portray a married couple in Fantastic Four. It wouldn’t be the first time an onscreen couple developed a real life relationship. However, those of us who battle anxiety, depression, PTSD, and/or autism witnessed something familiar. We recognized the change in Pascal’s demeanor. We watched as one moment he was smiling and totally fine then a second later he most definitely was not fine. His look of panic has also flashed in our eyes. Sometimes for obvious reasons but often without cause. As we’ve struggled with mental health, we have faced occasions where our amygdala short circuited and triggered our fight or flight instincts. One second we’re OK then the next we need something to bring us back to earth.

Pedro Pascal has been open about his mental health struggles. He’s admitted anxiety being a part of his psyche since he was a child. In press interviews and red carpet events, you’ll often see him with his left hand over his chest, a coping mechanism he’s learned to keep himself centered. In extreme moments of panic, he needs to hold someone else. Not inappropriate touching condemned by HR offices everywhere, but a steady and platonic grasp - like holding the hand of a colleague. Vanessa Kirby understood the assignment and allowed Pascal to ground himself through her.

Unfortunately, the trollish side of the internet is mocking the situation. Some are claiming Pascal’s experiences with anxiety are fantastical inventions of his imagination. Others are saying it’s a sign of weakness. Meanwhile, I’m over in my corner of the universe with nothing but respect for Kirby and Pascal. One human in crisis expressing their vulnerability, and another human reciprocating their need with kindness. I have never wanted to be friends with Pedro Pascal more than I do now.

If the toxic half of the internet could shut up for a few minutes, there’s a couple lessons we could learn from Pascal’s interaction on the Comic-Con stage.

First: depression, anxiety, and trauma do not discriminate. It can strike anyone from any socio-economic class. It doesn’t care about your politics, your race, your gender, or your religion. No amount of success, wealth, fame, or acclaim can protect you from mental illness. It strikes rich and poor. It affects beautiful people as much as the ugly dudes. It weighs on the hearts and minds of CEOs and janitors. It is a curse upon the righteous and the unrighteous. And here’s the weird one - even happy people can struggle with depression. I know, because I am one of those happy depressed folks.

Pedro Pascal has a career many actors envy. He’s been the lead actor in celebrated franchises for Star Wars, DC, Marvel, Kingsman, Game of Thrones, and The Last of Us. He’s won a Screen Actor’s Guild Award, two MTV Movie & TV Awards, and a People’s Choice Award. He’s been nominated for Golden Globes, Emmys, Teen Choice Awards, and more. He’s universally loved and respected by those who work with him. He’s made enough money to retire comfortably. Yet despite all his successes, accolades, admiration, and popularity he still battles anxiety.

The other moral of Pascal’s time at Comic-Con is the importance of grounding. Electricians know grounding as a safety method of connecting a powered system to the earth. The therapeutic definition is much the same, but instead of electrical components it connects humans to the terrain. Grounding grounds us. In the simplest sense, grounding is nothing more than touching soil. Walking barefoot through grass or along a sandy beach, wading into a lake or river, lying down in a field or meadow.

One of my favorite podcasts shared a story from a listener who overcame a phobia by grabbing a handful of dirt and allowing it to fall through her fingers every time she had a fear induced panic attack. I have a therapist friend who advocates taking your shoes off outside at least once a day to improve your mood. I’ve even discovered an odd calmness after running my fingers through needles on boughs of pine, fir, cedar, and spruce trees. Psychologists and patients in treatment have praised the use of grounding to treat a wide variety of both mental and physical conditions: depression, anxiety, PTSD, insomnia, hypertension, and chronic pain. It’s not a cure for anything, but it’s an excellent boost when in distress. Kind of like a shot of espresso for a sleepy driver in the middle of a road trip.

Another form of grounding is human contact. My dad preaches the benefits of a good hug. As for Pedro Pascal, finding balance is as simple as holding someone else’s hand. There are times when the feel of the earth isn’t available, no forest or beach or lawn near enough to touch. In those moments, what you need most is the gentle kindness of someone else’s grasp.

It is my hope if you ever find yourself in a time of suffering you have someone like Vanessa Kirby near you, a person understanding and willing to hold your hand to steady your nerves and anxieties. I pray I never reject the needs of a fellow human when their emotional state necessitates a stable platonic touch.

Stuck

Negative feedback, constructive criticism, rejection - they’re all a part of the human experience. Some people avoid it with varying degrees of success. Others ignore it because the haters gonna hate hate hate. Regardless of the intent behind the criticism, it’s clear not all people see the benefit in it. There are those who are like Melvin Smiley, Mark Wahlberg’s character in The Big Hit, who said … 

If you’re the type of person who can’t handle rejection, the Melvin Smiley kind of human, becoming a writer is probably not the best idea for you. Actually, any career in a creative industry is something you should avoid. That said, I can only speak as a writer and a DJ. These are the only crafts where I possess any experiential authority.

For a novelist, you have two paths to publishing: traditional publishing houses or do it yourself. The latter is expensive as you have to do everything on your own or pay someone else to do it. The editing, formatting, cover art, promotions, and advertising. As someone who is not great at promoting myself, this method does not sound appealing.

Which leaves the former - the method that is the dream of nearly every author, to be published through a traditional publisher and see your books on shelves in everything from Barnes and Noble, to your local independent book store, to Walmart. Writers long to see their titles on best seller lists, get film options, and be the next Brandon Sanderson or Sarah J Maas.

There’s a challenge to the traditional method though. Publishing houses do not accept submissions directly from authors. If you’ve written a novel and want that book to be considered by a company like Harper Collins or Penguin/Random House, you need an intermediary. In the publishing world, those people are called literary agents. Their job is to sell your book to publishers and negotiate the best contract possible. Because the more you get paid, the more they get paid. To follow the traditional route, you need an agent. Without an agent, getting your book published is unlikely.

How do you find a literary agent? You must query. Query good. For the uninitiated: a query is a formal request from an author to an agent for representation. It’s a process. It is arduous and daunting – possibly a little soul crushing if you’re not prepared. Once a query is submitted, there are a few different things that could happen. The first (and worst) is nothing; weeks turn into months and there’s no response as if you and your story never existed. The next possibility is what everyone hopes for - the agent requests either a full copy or partial copy of your manuscript. If they like what they see they make an offer to represent you. The third, final, and most likely possibility is rejection; you get a letter thanking you for considering them but your project isn’t a good fit.

It shouldn’t be a surprise rejections are plentiful, more abundant than any other response. The quantities of books written every year far exceed the number of projects any agent could possibly represent. If a literary agent was foolish enough to accept every author who ever submitted a query to them, they would never have the time to effectively pitch those books to publishers. This means thousands of books are completed and saved as a manuscript on a hard drive somewhere to never see the light of day only to be read by friends, family, beta readers, and critique partners. The population of unpublished authors is so vast it makes the count of published authors comparatively diminutive.

When I began querying “Kingdom of Odd,” I did the math. I searched for all agents on QueryTracker who were open to submissions and accepted queries for young adult fantasy. Then I exported that list into a spreadsheet (because I’m a nerd) and included the number of queries each agent had received with the count of how frequently they requested a partial or full manuscript. The statistics are not encouraging. These agents have received anywhere from 260 to 12,400 queries. The stingiest agent requested at least a part of a manuscript from 0.15% of work submitted to them. The most generous agent requested more from 13.53% of the authors who queried them. At best, roughly 87% of authors are going to get rejection letters. At best. Worst case scenario, some agents reject nearly 100% of the queries they receive.

If you are a writer who wants to see their book traditionally published, there will be rejections. A lot of rejections. If you’re not prepared, it will destroy every shred of self worth your ego can muster. I thought I was ready. My first few rejections came and motivated me to keep trying. According to all available stories, JK Rowling received twelve rejections for “Harry Potter” before an agent expressed interest. To be clear, I am not JK Rowling. “Kingdom of Odd” is not “Harry Potter.” And I’ve received seventeen rejections with more to come. Regardless, I believe in my book and the story and its potential. So I keep submitting. Sometimes, I would submit two queries for every one rejection letter.

As for those rejection letters, they come in a few different varieties. The most common is a form rejection. These letters are identical, with only the name of the author and book title changing from one email to the next. The other options are more personal as they both contain constructive feedback. The rarest instance includes encouragement to change something and resubmit. More probable is a letter explaining exactly why your book was rejected but leaving it open to the author to take the advice before submitting to other agents. For the first six months of querying, every rejection I got was a form letter. “Thanks for considering me but …”

July brought two new things: warmer weather in the Inland Northwest, and the first rejection letter with feedback I could actually use. This excited me. If I’m going to get shot down, I’d at least like to know why. If my book isn’t good enough for someone, I want to know what could make it better. I thought I was ready. Turns out I was only prepared for the form rejections. I was not primed for the useful criticism.

After the first few rounds of editing and revision and feedback from friends/family, I got my manuscript in front of a couple beta readers. The most useful feedback I got from the beta phase was about exposition. This is a blessing and a curse. In fantasy, you need a certain amount of exposition. Without it, readers can’t understand the world your characters inhabit. They won’t know the social structures or the magic system or the reason anyone does anything especially the main characters. Too much exposition is cumbersome and boring. No one wants to read a dull book. The evaluation suggested incorporating the necessary exposition into dialog as it would provide the background readers need while also contributing to character development and natural flow of the story. So I dove into another rewrite to incorporate this feedback.

This is where the personalized rejection letter derailed me. First (like any good manager would do when coaching an employee) it started off with compliments. She said there were great qualities in my work (yay!) and it was an intriguing concept (also yay!) but (and there’s always a but) it was too heavy on dialog and exposition.

Finally, some tangible and helpful feedback from a literary agent. I should be excited, instead I’m confused. I understand her recommendation but I don’t know how to implement it. The original version was heavier on exposition and I revised it to include more dialog based on earlier feedback. One person says more dialog, one says less dialog, and both say less exposition. While I realize I can’t please everyone I want a book worthy of pleasing an agent. I want someone who will take a chance on me.

Now I’m stuck. The one thing I always wanted in a rejection turned out to be a figurative wad of chewed gum clogging the gears of my creative cognitive functions. I’m a writer: I should be writing. I could be revising my completed manuscript taking consideration of recent recommendations. I could be working on my other works in progress. I could be formatting my wife’s children’s book. I could be blogging. Instead I’m trapped inside my head. Since I don’t know how to fix this one thing, I was paralyzed to write anything. To be honest, this is the first significant item I’ve composed since that rejection letter on July 6.

Dump this in a blender with my autistic aversion to boredom, my hyperactive imagination, my evangelical guilt, my lingering situational depression, and all the anxiety I can muster and you get blah. Blah has been my modus operandi for the month of July. And I don’t like the blahs.

Oh to Be a Writer

During a recent dinner date, my wife and I talked about some of my recent work - primarily my fanfic suggestions for a Christmas special in the MCU along with Marvel's upcoming Deadpool and Fantastic Four movies. I admitted to Annie how all my blog posts and tweets about things I wish to see in the MCU are really auditions to be a member of Disney/Marvel’s writing team. After all, I’m just a big fan with a fondness for storytelling and thorough understanding of comic book lore. She let me know I should be careful which dreams I share with her because she might just find a way to make it happen.

Then she asked, “How does one become a writer at Marvel?”

I explained in terms I know best: music. “These behind-the-scenes roles like writers and directors, it’s like the Drake song - started from the bottom now we here. Started from the bottom now my whole team here.”

Disney is an empire. Marvel is a behemoth. The people who tell their stories don’t just show up out of nowhere. They did something small. Then more small stuff until one of those projects got attention allowing them to do bigger things. Then they make a good impression through those bigger projects until the decision makers at Marvel Studios asks “Hey, do you want to do that, but with us?”

To prove my point (because I have autism and constantly feel the need to prove myself) I did a deep dive into the writers of the MCU.

First up: Iron Man. Before writing this script Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby wrote the critically adored Children of Men.

Zak Penn, writer for The Incredible Hulk, worked on Men in Black, Behind Enemy Lines, and Reign of Fire before penning the MCU’s second film.

The writer of Zoolander and American Psycho was selected for Iron Man 2. The two movies he did before joining the MCU were Tropic Thunder and Megamind.

Two of the three writers for Thor got noticed for their work on Agent Cody Banks.

The script team for Captain America: The First Avenger wrote five movies before working for Marvel. Three of those films were Narnia adaptations: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Prince Caspian, and Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

2012’s The Avengers was written by Joss Whedon who had a prolific career before working with Marvel. He’s most well known for two things - writing, directing, and producing Buffy the Vampire Slayer; and for being a terrible and toxic person to practically everyone who’s worked with him.

And that’s just the first phase of the MCU. They’re now in the fifth phase with phase six starting in the spring of 2025. Marvel is still using people that proved themselves elsewhere like taking a dude that wrote for Rick & Morty, The Onion News, and Jimmy Kimmel to pen the script for last year’s Quantumania.

The same is true with the MCU TV shows. Before Moon Knight, Jeremy Slater wrote for The Umbrella Academy. Michael Waldron did scripts for Rick & Morty before helming the first season of Loki.

All of these screenwriters wrote cool things, got noticed, and then joined the Marvel fold. Writing for Marvel isn’t a stepping stone, it’s the destination.

One that note ...

Hi Marvel, I’m Nicholas Casey. Author, nerd, and cinephile. I wrote a book and hope to get it published soon. I’m also a fan. Hire me. Please?

Fantastic Four: A Proposal

With a cast announced less than a month ago and roughly 16 months to film, edit, reshoot, score, and add special effects, Marvel has a lot to do in a short timeframe. Fantastic Four are some of the most popular and recognizable characters from Marvel Comics. Expectations are high especially since fans have been disappointed in previous cinematic attempts ranging anywhere from lackluster to what one critic described as “woefully misguided.”

The upcoming F4 movie has to accomplish the following:
1. Be consistent, coherent, funny, and better than anything Fox put into theaters.
2. Create the effects of elasticity, invisibility, flaming flight, and rock hard invulnerability without looking like obvious CGI.
3. Avoid over reliance on CGI (one of the biggest criticisms against recent MCU entries).
4. Not break the sacred timeline. The MCU has had some minor continuity errors lately.
5. Bring this team from the 1960s to the present.
6. Explain how Fantastic Four existed in the MCU timeline as heroes in the 1960s but no one remembers them in the current era.
7. Connect to both the past and the future of the MCU.
8. Avoid the origin story. We got it in two other movies already. Fans are sick of origin stories.
9. Make every one love H.E.R.B.I.E.
10. For fan service - give Pedro Pascal a special kid to protect.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

What if I told you I had an idea to satisfy all of these demands? (Yes, I realize the scrip is already written and since I’m not psychic, I’m aware the actual movie will be different than my proposal. A boy can dream right?)

Side note: my idea sets the movie several years after the team had been blasted with cosmic rays on the first American mission to space, giving them their powers. By the early 60’s when the movie begins, Fantastic Four are already world famous and active superheroes.

Cold open in the middle of Fantastic Four doing heroics - perhaps fighting a retro villain or something cosmic which would lean into Ben Grimm’s career as an astronaut. After the title card, we see the heroes in Washington DC receiving commendations from President Lyndon B. Johnson. Franklin and Valeria watch their family from the side of the stage under H.E.R.B.I.E.’s supervision. At the dinner gala following the award ceremony, Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) approaches Reed to congratulate him and they discuss the creation and use of pym particles.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

Back at the Baxter Building, Sue puts Franklin and Valeria to bed. Because they’re young, they still share a bedroom. After lights out, the two kids start discussing pym particles with excitement. Due to Valeria’s superior intellect, she deduces the element could be used for time travel. They spend the next few days constructing their own time machine with spare parts from their father’s laboratory. There’s only one problem: Hank Pym possesses all of the pym particles and doesn’t like to share. This forces the children to invent their own version of the element.

Once the machine and particles are complete, they test it out. Valeria steps inside and activates it. She’s transported to what she thinks is the future but is actually an alternate universe. There she sees Sue eating dinner inside their Baxter Building apartment with someone other than Reed. Sue calls this man Victor. Valeria tries to interrupt but is scolded and Victor tells her she’s supposed to be working on her homework. Sue gets up and escorts Valeria back to her bedroom where school books and assignments are littered on her desk. Valeria finds a pair of Doom gauntlets, a cape, and armor on the bed. She puts on the gauntlets and is surprised to find they’re a perfect fit. Valeria sits down at the desk and sees her name written on one of her school papers as Valeria Von Doom. She panics and suddenly gets transported back to her reality where Johnny and Sue are frustrated with Franklin as he tries to explain where Valeria disappeared.

Valeria, still wearing the gauntlets, announces her presence. Reed and Ben return as they had been searching the building to find Valeria. Demanding an explanation, the adults listen to the child’s testimony of events. When she mentions Victor and describes him, Reed gets angry. Von Doom was a childhood friend of Reed’s who immigrated to the US after World War II and was a member of the space mission that gave the Fantastic Four powers. Sue and Reed begin arguing with accusations of affairs. Reed wants to know why she’d choose Von Doom, Johnny tries to defend her sister, and Franklin pleads with them to stop. To end the fight, Franklin accidentally uses his latent psionic powers pushing Johnny, Sue, and Valeria into the time machine and sends them 60 years into the future.

The force of the psionic blast damages the machine. Ben panics and tries to deactivate it but the controls are not designed for his big hands and he breaks it more. As the machine grows unstable Franklin and Reed scramble to depower it and avert disaster. Unfortunately, they can’t prevent the time machine from exploding, all they can do is contain the blast to minimize damage. At the last possible moment, Thing positions himself to take the brunt of impact so the shockwave doesn’t destroy Manhattan. Reed grabs Franklin, running for the balcony, and leaps into the abyss. Mr Fantastic stretches his body to form a parachute and wraps his hands and feet into a harness around Franklin so the two can float to safety together.

Behind them, the Baxter Building shakes and a ball of flames blow out the windows of the upper floors. The building implodes and crumbles, damaging neighboring buildings as it collapses with Thing and H.E.R.B.I.E. inside. Thankfully, Ben Grimm is nearly indestructible and is able to crawl his way out of the rubble.

They are devastated. Reed’s wife and daughter are gone, Ben lost his friend Johnny, and Franklin is filled with guilt. They want to find the other half of their family and bring them home but don’t know where to look or how to recreate the machine Valeria helped build. Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne (Michelle Pfeiffer), and Dr. Bill Foster (Laurence Fishburne) show up to help those affected by the Baxter disaster. Reed begs Hank to help build a new time machine to help them rescue Johnny, Sue, and Valeria. Hank refuses because it’s too dangerous, doesn’t believe pym particles could be used for time travel, and wouldn’t know where to find the missing people even if time travel was possible.

Meanwhile, Sue and Johnny struggle to make sense of the changes to Manhattan and new technologies. No one recognizes them or remembers them. Due to superior intellect, Valeria adapts quickly. Their sudden appearance also causes a disruption, sensed by Wong (Benedict Wong) who takes Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie) with him to intercept the heroes from the past. Johnny and Sue demonstrate their powers, believing Wong and Wilson are members of hydra. In the brief fight, Wong subdues them with magic.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

Sue, Johnny, and Valeria are brought to a holding cell at the new Avengers headquarters and Wong sling rings his way out leaving Sam to interrogate the newcomers. During the interrogation, a news story provides an update on Victor Von Doom founding the Kingdom of Latveria after rebuilding the ruins of his homeland, Sokovia. Sue is stunned but Valeria doesn’t recognize him because Dr Doom is wearing a mask. Wilson offers them transport to Latveria on the condition they stay there.

Back in 1964, Reed reaches out to the only person he can think to help: the Sorcerer Supreme. At the Sanctum Sanctorum, they find the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) repair the mansion because it had minor damages from the collapse of the Baxter Building. Reed explains their predicament to the Ancient One. She meditates for a while, and though her meditation she learns where the others had gone.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

Ancient One agrees to help but with sacrificial consequences. First, she can send them into the future timeline but it is a one way trip, they will not be able to return home. If they agree, the future will become their home. The second condition is an agreement for the Ancient One to undo the damages they caused to Manhattan, but in doing so she will erase the knowledge of their existence from everyone’s memory. No one will remember the Fantastic Four, no one will know they are heroes, no one will remember their missions to space leaving NASA’s space program to start over without them. Their timeline will move on as if they never existed. When they arrive in the future, they will have to begin a completely new life from nothing.

Reed, Ben, and Franklin all agree. Ancient One works her magic, the collapse of the Baxter Building is undone in reverse, damages to Manhattan are repaired, the photo of Ben Grimm disappears from the halls of NASA, a newspaper clipping showing Hank shaking hands with Reed changes to show Hank shaking hands with Howard Stark (John Slattery), and the remaining heroes vanish from 1964.

In modern times, Reed, Ben, and Franklin appear in Sanctum Sanctorum the same place they just left. However, they’re now standing behind Wong who is binge watching Game of Thrones with Madisynn (Patty Guggenheim). Wong jumps up ready to fight but is disarmed when Reed asks “Where is the Ancient One?” The story of why and how they arrived in Sanctum Sanctorum is relayed and Wong agrees to help.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

In Latveria, Dr Doom is suspicious of Sue and Johnny, imprisoning them. Inside captivity, their powers are inert. This frustrates Johnny who keeps throwing himself into the walls trying to ignite himself. However, curious how Valeria got a hold of gauntlets he designed, Von Doom treats the girl like a princess.

Wong learns from Sam where Reed’s family was taken. Wong’s students learn Johnny and Sue are being held captive. Madison researches social media and finds pictures of Victor with Valeria, and she is dressed in royal Latverian clothing to match Doom’s costume. Reed and Ben demand to mount a rescue mission. Sam declined to assist them as his participation would be a violation of UN treaties protecting Latveria’s sovereignty.

To complete the rescue, Wong sends a few of his students to accompany Reed and Ben to storm Doom’s castle. Wong remains behind to manage the New York sanctum and baby sit Franklin.

In Latveria, the heroes are confronted with dozens of doombots. As Thing smashes the robots and Mr Fantastic uses his rubbery arms to launch the bots every direction, the students use their magic to break the doombots apart. Unfortunately, for every robot destroyed, more appear.

Inside the castle, Dr Doom is eating a meal with Valeria. His mask is off, revealing scars and disfiguration. Seeing the commotion on his security feed, he excuses himself and dons the mask. He joins the melee and orders his doombots to stop fighting. Doom asks the heroes for their reason to enter Latveria. Franklin explains he came to retrieve his family. Feigning cordiality, Doom invites them inside the castle. Once inside, Reed and Ben lose their powers, reverting Thing back to his original human appearance. Without warning, the doombots swarm and overpower the de-powered heroes and escort them to detainment cells. While being dragged away, Reed asks Victor “What happened to you?”

The question confounds Doom. Due to the spell Ancient One used to undo the damages to Manhattan in the 60s, Victor doesn’t remember any of the Fantastic Four. In the 60s, Franklin has a vision of Valeria filled with rage and smashing electric components. He tells Wong how Valeria might be in danger. Wong responds with a grunt, “hmm” and tells the boy to go watch cartoons.

Back in the dining hall, Valeria is watching everything on the security feed Doom left on. Seeing her father mistreated angers her. She gets her gauntlets and uses telepathy to deduce the location of the castle’s security controls. Once there, she uses the gauntlets to smash everything which deactivates the castle’s defenses, including the technology Doom uses to repress magic and superpower abilities. In an instant, Johnny is ablaze and Thing turns into stone. They bust out of their cells. Wong’s students regain their magic and escape.

A new battle resumes between the heroes and doombots. This time, with two additional fighters, progress seems easier. Because the security system is damaged, the bots are easier to fight and Von Doom lost his ability to control them. They quickly subdue Victor Von Doom but are stopped from hurting him by Valeria. She explains he is this nation’s king and the people of Latveria depend on him. Their status as an independent nation is recognized by the United Nations and protected by the European Union. Franklin advises Doom to rule his people and remain in his country. Should Doom ever cause harm outside of his borders, the Fantastic Four would be there to stop him.

The students use the sling rings to open portals allowing the team to return to the Sanctum Sanctorum. Before she leaves, Valeria removes the cape and armor Victor gifted her. She turns to exit but pauses again, drops the gauntlets then steps through the portal.

Back in New York, Sue and Reed find Franklin watching The Simpsons with Madisynn. With the team reunited, Reed says it’s time to find a new home. Franklin says he has a few ideas. Begin credits.

In a mid credit scene, in the basement of the old Baxter Building, a tarp covers a strange form. Small lights turn on, illuminating the tarp from the inside. The form inside wiggles and wrestles itself free revealing H.E.R.B.I.E. reactivated for the first time in 60 years.

In a post credit scene, Sue and Reed are on a date at a fancy restaurant. Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) approaches, who they think is their waiter. Strange uses magic to make their drink order appear. He introduces himself and invites Reed to join the Illuminati.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

Just think what my version of the film accomplishes. It introduces the Fantastic Four, brings them from the 60s into the present without disturbing the sacred timeline, explains why no one in modern times remembers them, sets up Dr Doom as a future big baddie, connects the Fantastic Four to other MCU characters, and maintains the Pedro protects a kid trope. It’s perfect.

Of course, Disney has their own plans. The script has been written and production should begin soon. We’ll see what Marvel Studios creates when the movie releases next year.

Fantastic Four: A Refresher

The leader of the team can stretch absurd lengths and flex his body into any shape. His wife can turn herself invisible at will and project force fields around herself any anyone next to her. The youngest can ignite his body in a ball of flames and fly while he’s on fire. The last member is the only one who can’t pass for normal, his body built of orange rocks making him super strong and nearly indestructible. Aside from their powers, who are the Fantastic Four?

Reed Richards is known as the smartest man in the Marvel universe. He is slightly arrogant but in a way he doesn’t realize he’s arrogant because he literally is so much more intelligent than everyone else. He’s a workaholic and can often be emotionally distant.

Image courtesy of Marvel Comics

Johnny Storm has a massive ego and is eager to flaunt his powers. He’s charismatic, braggadocios, an adrenaline junky, and enjoys attention. Despite his hot temper, he wants everyone to like him and is willing to team up with almost anyone.

Image courtesy of Marvel Comics

Ben Grimm has a soft heart under his rough exterior. He used his football scholarship to escape his impoverished and violent childhood. Not the smartest dude around but he makes up for it with a jovial personality and uses humor to hide his emotional turmoil.

Image courtesy of Marvel Comics

Sue Storm lost her mom at a young age and her father struggled with alcoholism, leaving her to take care of her younger brother Johnny. Even as adults, she is still a motherly figure to those around her. She is the soul of the team, being their voice of reason and emotional support. She is also incredibly powerful and is often underestimated.

Image courtesy of Marvel Comics

Combined, they are Fantastic Four. This is the first superhero team in Marvel Comics and Marvel’s first family. However, their family is bigger than the four of them.

Reed and Sue are married and have two kids - Franklin and Valeria. As children of super-powered parents, these kids also have abilities. Franklin inherited his father’s intelligence but also possesses the ability to manipulate reality and experiences minor precognitive visions. Valeria didn’t acquire Reed’s intelligence, she superseded it. She mastered several fields of science at a young age including multidimensional physics. She also got her mom’s gift of invisibility and developed the power to project energy. Both kids have limited ability to travel through time. Franklin does so with his psionic powers and Valeria uses a method she calls time-dancing.

Image courtesy of Marvel Comics

Johnny is uncle to the Richards kids. His best friend, Wyatt Wingfoot doesn’t have any superpowers but is an athletic marksman and has occasionally saved the Four from potentially bad situations by showing up at the right place at the right time. Johnny has also dated a Skrull alien, a member of the Inhumans, and a couple ladies in the X-Men.

The only member of the team not in the family is Ben. However he is Franklin and Valeria’s godfather and the kids treat him like an uncle. While he tends to be a loner, afraid people won’t accept his appearance, he did develop a relationship with a blind artist named Alicia Masters, who happens to be the daughter of Puppet Master, one of the F4’s foes.

Then there are the robots. H.E.R.B.I.E. was originally a substitute for the missing Human Torch then became a lab assistant to Reed, butler for the family, and a babysitter for Franklin and Valeria. Roberta was the Baxter Building receptionist. She looked human but didn’t have legs and is attached to her desk. She often outwits hackers and trespassers attempting to access the Fantastic Four’s home.

While Fantastic Four’s stories are filled with action and adventure, it is the family drama that endeared them to readers. Fans could see themselves in the rivalry and occasional pranks between Ben and Johnny. They could relate to the marital disputes between Sue and Reed. They longed for the loving bond between brother and sister or the mentorship Reed provided Johnny. Everyone wanted a devoted friend like Ben. They laughed together, often quarreled, and adore each other deeply.

This is the charm Marvel Studios needs to capture that was missing from the previous movies. A family that doesn’t always get along but love each other through crisis and conflict. Individuals who think that can do anything alone but realize they are better together. And heroes who genuinely enjoy a good joke.

Fantastic Four: A Timeline

November 1961: The Fantastic Four debuted with issue #1 for Marvel Comics. This is the first team of heroes created by the collaboration between Jack Kirby and Stan Lee. Due to their popularity among readers and their status of being an actual family in fictional continuity, the Four quickly became known as the first family of Marvel.

Image courtesy Marvel Comics

While superhero teams were not a new concept in the world of comic books, Fantastic Four were unique because they were a family. The first issues introduced Reed Richards (Mr Fantastic) as a man with an elastic body and his girlfriend Sue Storm (Invisible Woman) who could become invisible and project an invisible force field around her. The two would later get married. Also on the team was Johnny Storm (Human Torch), Sue’s brother who could fly and light himself on fire. The last member was Ben Grimm (Thing) who was Reed’s college room mate and possessed a body made or rock. Like all families, this one bickered a lot adding their family drama into the tension of fighting supervillains and anti-heroes like Namor, Dr Doom, Annihilation, and the Silver Surfer.

July 1963: with issue #16, Marvel dropped the The. The Fantastic Four officially became Fantastic Four.

1975: Fantastic Four is released as a radio show starring Bill Murray as Human Torch. It doesn’t last long.

1977: Bill Murray joined the cast of Saturday Night Live, completely redeeming his role as Human Torch.

September 1967: Hannah-Barbera produces a cartoon Fantastic Four series. It lasts for a rear. The cartoon is revived in 1978 with a different producer. The revival does not include Human Torch, instead they have a robot servant named H.E.R.B.I.E who is incorporated into the comics.

Image courtesy Hannah-Barbera

1979: another cartoon broadcasts titled Fred and Barney Meet the Thing. Thing is the only F4 character featured in the series and gave us the catch phrase “Thing-rings, do your thing!” We’ll pretend this doesn’t exist.

Image courtesy Hannah-Barbera

1985: Questprobe 3 was released as an 8 bit game on the Atari. It only featured Human Torch and Thing.

Image courtesy of Adventure International

1986: Constantin Film purchases film rights to Fantastic Four. Those rights were set to expire 12/31/92 if a movie isn’t produced.

1992: Constantin Film teams up with Roger Corman (known for creating countless B-movies) to produce the first Fantastic Four movie on a $1 million budget. Constantin Film had to make this movie to prevent film rights from being reverted back to Marvel. It was set to be in theaters Labor Day weekend of 1993 but that never happened because it was so terrible. It was never officially released but can be pirated online.

Image courtesy of New Concorde

October 1997: Fantastic Four was released as a beat ‘em up style video game on the original PlayStation.

Image courtesy Acclaim Entertainment

2004: 20th Century Fox acquired the film rights to Fantastic Four.

July 2005: 20th Century Fox releases Fantastic Four starring Ioan Gruffudd as Mr Fantastic, Jessica Alba as Invisible Woman, Chris Evans as Human Torch, and Michael Chiklis as Thing. It got mixed reviews. I thought it was just OK. Not bad but not good either.

Image courtesy 20th Century Fox

September 2006: debut of the cartoon series Fantastic Four: World's Greatest Heroes.

Image courtesy Taffy Entertainment

October 2006: The Fantastic Four we’re playable characters in the game Ultimate Alliance. A month later it was released on the PlayStation2, then on the Wii another month later. They appeared in the sequel but not playable, and they were playable again as DLC in the third game of the series.

Image courtesy Activision

June 2007: Fox premiers the movie sequel. Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer debuts to more mixed reviews. While I don’t think it was a great movie, I enjoyed it more than its predecessor. There were plans for a third movie that never materialized.

Image courtesy 20th Century Fox

September 2009: Debut of the cartoon Super Hero Squad. This show features a wide variety of marvel characters and frequently includes members of Fantastic Four. My older three kids were obsessed with this show when it came out.

Image courtesy Marvel Animation

2011: Chris Evans is cast as Captain America in the MCU, completely redeeming his role as Human Torch.

August 20015: Fox released the Josh Trank Fant4stic starring stars Miles Teller as Mr Fantastic, Kate Mara as Invisible Woman, Michael B. Jordan as Human Torch, Jamie Bell as Thing. This movie was created for the same reason as the unreleased Fantastic Four movie - to prevent the film rights from expiring and reverting back to Marvel. And just like the 90s F4 movie, it sucked. It was trashed by critics, ignored by fans, and won two golden raspberry awards (worst director and worst picture).

Image courtesy 20th Century Fox

2018: Michael B. Jordan was cast as Killmanger in Black Panther, completely redeeming his role as Human Torch.

March 2019: Disney bought 21st Century Fox, returning Fantastic Film rights to Marvel Studios.

July 2019: Kevin Feige appeared at San Diego Comic-Con to announce the slate of upcoming MCU projects in production, which included Fantastic Four.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

May 2022: Mr Fantastic has a brief appearance in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness as a member of The Illuminati. He’s portrayed by fan casting favorite John Krasinski.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios

September 2022: At the D23 Expo, Kevin Feige announced a director (Matt Shakman) and a release date (11/8/24). The release has since been pushed back to 7/25/25.

November 2023: It is heavily rumored then confirmed Pedro Pascal was cast to play Mr Fantastic in the MCU. This is a disappointment to many (including me) who wanted to see John Krasinski continue this character. Since Pascal perfected his geek chops as a loner escorting a special child to safety in The Mandalorian and as a loner escorting a special child to safety in The Last Of Us, jokes started circulating social media asking which special child he would escort to safety in Fantastic Four.

February 2024: For Valentine’s Day, Marvel Studios released a teaser image for Fantastic Four confirming the cast. Pedro Pascal as Mr Fantastic, Vanessa Kirby as Invisible Woman, Joseph Quinn as Human Torch, and Ebon Moss-Bachrach as Thing. Easter eggs in the announcement confirm rumors that the movie would be set in the sixties.

Image courtesy Marvel Studios