Tag Archives: writing

Ravenwood- Chapter 1: The Newcomer

Leave a reply

Gregory’s walked the line steadily between dive and family restaurant. It was well kept with red wallpaper and split into a restaurant on the right hand side and the bar on the left. They were equal in size given that it was the largest bar in town as opposed to the true dive bar and the higher end bar up on the hill. The walls were a deep red and the floors were a dark brown. In the restaurant there were booths and tables and it served American bar food. That food could also be brought into the bar if you wanted to experience it standing up for the most part. Unsurprisingly the bar on the left hand side was far stickier than the right no matter how much they cleaned.

A young woman stepped into the room wearing a short dark blue dress and black heels. She had tanned skin and her hair was long, curly and blonde. She stopped at the hostess’ stand and then made a left into the bar. The reaction was one of wonder as the woman walked into the bar. She was stunning. People got a good look at her and if they were sensible went back to their drinks. Three men started talking about which one of them would approach her when she walked across the bar to man sitting in one of the booths. The man was looking at his phone.

“Hi,” she said to him and he looked up from his phone.

He was a handsome young man about her age of twenty-six with stubble dotting his face and his hair a light brown. He looked at her through a pair of thick glasses. He was dressed simply in a buttoned down shirt and jeans.

“Oh, hello,” he said.

“I was wondering if you wanted to share a drink?” she said.

The man looked at her and went to run his hand through his hair. He had been sitting with his right side facing her so when he brought up his left hand up, she saw the flash of a gold ring on his hand.

“Uh, I’m willing to have one platonically,” he said. “I’m married.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m just new in town and I thought you looked cute. I’ll leave you be.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’m more than willing to make a new friend.”

She slid into the booth opposite him. The waitress, a young white woman named Samantha walked up to her and the blonde woman ordered a Manhattan.

“So, what’s your name?” the man asked her.

“Bianca,” she replied. “Yours?”

“David,” he said and offered his hand for a friendly shake.

The two shook jovially and Bianca let out a sigh.

“Of course the first guy I hit on as a single lady would be married,” Bianca sighed.

“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’m so married and happy that nothing would ever happen,” David said.

“Is your wife at home?”

“Yeah, she’s getting off of work a bit later than me plus she’s pregnant so it takes a bit of time for her to get here.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date night.”

“Well, it’s not interrupted yet, I wouldn’t even call it a date night. We don’t have kids yet, so it’s just us being social while we still can.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“We’re often joined by friends who happen to come to the bar. Let me just call her.”

David’s wife was getting changed when she got the call from him. She had been staring at her stomach in the mirror, running her hands over it. She smiled at the prospect of her future daughter. Her black hair was tied in a loose ponytail. She had started dressing even more so for comfort than before. She unabashedly stuck her feet into a pair dark blue crocs to finish getting ready.

She looked at her phone and saw the call coming in from her husband.

“Hey, honey, I’ll be there in a little bit, just gotta waddle my way down the street,” she said.

“Hey, Marissa,” David replied. “I made a new friend named Bianca. She just wants to make sure that she’s good to hang out with us.”

“Why would she worry about that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in a bit. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

She started her waddle and as she did, she got a text from her friend, Ajanta.

Ajanta Looks like David is stepping out on you.

She knew that Ajanta was half joking. She had always liked David but she had always been protective of Marissa. She had included a picture that it seemed like Ajanta had taken in secret. Marissa had to note that Bianca was hot as hell. She also knew her husband.

Marissa: Yeah, I know. He told me that they were having a drink together. Want to join us?

Ajanta: Sure, I’m already here and I want to see what her deal is.

Marissa shrugged and kept walking.

David saw Marissa come into the bar and him and Bianca stood up when they saw her. Ajanta joined up with her as she stepped in, giving her a quick hug and the two walked to the table. Ajanta was an Indian woman with long black hair and an athletic figure.

“Hello,” Marissa said to Bianca. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, please sit down,” Bianca said. “Wait, I’m sorry, it makes more sense for me to get in first so that you can look at your husband.”

“Oh, I’d like that to do that.”

“Let me get in the booth and you can get off your feet. Those are cute crocs.”

“Thanks,” Marissa said noting that she sounded sincere when she said it.

Bianca pushed farther into the booth and Marissa slid in next to her. Ajanta followed on the opposite side before David sat next to her. They ordered their drinks and Marissa ordered food. Some mozzarella sticks and chicken wings.

“How far along are you?” Bianca asked.

“I’m about six months,” Marissa answered.

“Entering the home stretch.”

“My stretch marks be stretching.”

“So, Bianca,” Ajanta intercut. “What brings you to town?”

“I just moved here,” Bianca responded. “I, uh, got divorced.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. He was… he was cheating on me.”

“Sounds like a scumbag,” Marissa said.

“He was. He kept some pretty garbage opinions hidden for a long time. Along with his affairs.”

“Multiple?” Ajanta asked.

“Yeah,” Bianca sighed.

“Where did he find the time?”

“Oh, that was the other thing, he had quit his job and was pretending to work and taking money from his parents.”

“What a loser.”

“Yeah, I know how to pick ’em.”

“You can’t tell what a dude is going to be like after years,” David said. “You just try and hope for the best.”

“Thanks,” Bianca said.

“What’re you going to do while you’re here?” Ajanta asked.

“I’m a lawyer, I got a job at one of the local firms. But I’ve been talking about myself for a while. What about the rest of you?”

They started talking about their various professions for a long time and the drinks started flowing among them. Marissa kept to her water but chomped down on her food when it arrived. By the time she was done, everyone else was a little bit tipsy. David got up and left for the bathroom. The women watched him leave.

“I have to admit something to you,” Bianca slurred.

“What’s up?” Marissa asked.

“I have to admit that I talked to your husband because I wanted to hit on him.”

“I knew it!” Ajanta said pointing.

“I’m sorry. But he was like I’m so in love with my wife. I just wanted to be honest because you’ve been so nice to me. And now that I know he’s married, it’s hands off.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marissa said. “I know he’s hot to trot.”

“Yeah,” Ajanta said. “I thought you were scummy too. I sent Marissa a text, being all like, look at this Jezabel with your husband. But you’re so sweet.”

“My name’s not Jezabel, it’s Bianca,” Bianca said.

“Sorry.”

“But you don’t have to worry about that. I get it. A lot of people think that I’m making moves on their men.”

“It’s probably because of how hot you are.”

“You are very beautiful,” Marissa said. “You’ve raised the average hotness of this town by several points.”

“You two are so pretty too,” Bianca said. “Like your tummy is the only fat part of you.”

“Thanks, I do yoga and go for runs. Well, I used to do those things but the little one gets in the way. When I’m healed up do you want to join me?”

“I can?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“We can be friends? Even though I hit on your husband?”

“Sure, you haven’t been weird and I feel like the fact your inhibitions are down and your main focus is telling me that you’re not going to hit on my man means a lot.”

“Yeah, let’s be friends,” Ajanta said.

“I’m so happy. Thank you,” Bianca said.

The three women tried to hug each other but the table got in the way. When David got back, he saw the strange tableau before him. He offered to take a picture of the girls and picked up his phone off the table. The girls smiled as he snapped several pics of them.

At that point, they decided to call it a night as it was getting late. Marissa and David walked their friends back to the house and then Marissa drove them home. She sang along to “Shiny, Happy People” on her way home.

Ravenwood Prologue: Welcome to Ravenwood

Leave a reply

The history of Ravenwood was long, it had been been founded by Charles Smythe back when him and a group of colonizers had arrived in some territory and had decided that this was as good a place as any to try and figure out living in early America. They had started with the usual colonizer bullshit and didn’t often talk about their travesties. It had been out of the way to the point that they completely missed the early witch hunts. They sent boys to fight in the various wars and remembered what few they could.

The town was located on the ocean but had never quite made it to the point of massive tourist spot. They still got some visitors but they were less than what the shops wanted. The town was large about eight square miles and was about three miles from any other town in the north, south and western directions. There was a great deal of forest and national parks around the town.

It had its usual share of rumors and ghost stories but they never attracted any ghost hunting shows or even a bored Youtuber who might want to make a name for themselves. There was little crime and the police were mostly bored and didn’t do much else besides write speeding tickets and hassle skateboarders.

The kids went to the elementary school until sixth grade and then moved up to the high that was seventh through twelfth grade. There was a main street that had several shops on it. What few speciality restaurants that could keep up with the local fast food joints. There was a eight screen movie theater, an arcade and a few other shops that provided entertainment. There was a smoke shop and diner that shared the same characteristic of continually changing ownership but never changed anything else really. Except for the one set of smoke shop owners that sold overly powerful weed and they eventually left town to find their success in a larger location. The local stoners held a candlelight vigil when that dank kush left.

They were close enough to a train station that people could go to larger cities when they wanted.

The seasons came through in their endless cycles. There was almost always snow at Christmas and the leaves satisfyingly crunched underfoot during autumn. The kids spent their summers at the beach and everyone sneezed their way through spring.

It was a good town. Things worked there. There were people with stories there.

Here they are.

(This is a project I’m going to have going on for when I can’t think of anything to write for fiction Fridays or just in general if the muse takes me.)

No More Long Days

Leave a reply

We held to something that we shouldn’t have but we kept it going for as long as we could. You told me, once, that you were so tired of the way your heart made you speak without thinking. I told you that that was the way we fell in love. But letting ourselves be free and being open. You said that maybe it wasn’t worth it.

You reminded me how long the days started feeling. Not just because it was summer but because you were getting tired of me, tired of your job, tired of everything! You decided to put it all behind you. To gas up that old car of yours and make for the west.

You sent me a letter the other day. You told me that you had gotten rid of your smart phone. Bought a burner and were living your life the way you wanted. There was a photograph and you were smiling in front of a little shop. No more long days was the message on the back.

Long Way Out

Leave a reply

It’s a long way back to land

I’ve been swimming for so long

Waiting for the waves to take me away

I’m not coming back

I don’t plan to die in the water

But I plan to let it take me away

I’ll be living note in a bottle

I’ll wash ashore and tell you a story

But I won’t have any treasure

Connections

Leave a reply

Charlie had a window in his office.  He noticed the snow falling and thought that he would give it an hour and see if it stopped.  By the three hour mark, it still hadn’t.  He was a small man, bald and potbellied.  He rose out of his chair and into the small hallway of his office into the main area of his store.  

His store was fragrant and beautiful.  It sold scented candles of all kind.  The walls were a light pink and the carpet was a deep blue.  Gentle music was playing over the speakers.  There was artwork made by his wife and children on the wall, framed of course.  His two employees, Riley and Caroline, didn’t stop working.    

“Riley, Caroline,” he said and they turned their heads to look at him.  “I don’t want to drive home in this shit and if I don’t want to do it, I don’t feel like you should have to do it either.  Go home for the day.  You’ll get paid for the rest of the day.”

“Thanks, boss,” Riley said.

“I don’t drive in,” Caroline said. 

“Well, you deserve a day off either way.  Get out of here,” Charlie said.  “I’ll close up.  Riley, I’m sorry that I didn’t do this earlier.  You have much farther than I have to go.”

“Don’t worry about it, boss.”

“Get going and I would appreciate a text that you got home safe.”

“Will do, boss.”

“You can call me, Charlie.”

“You got it, boss.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and went to the cash register to start cashing it out.  Riley and Caroline went into the employee area and gathered their things.  They walked out into the parking lot of the strip mall.  Caroline helped him clean off his car and then Charlie’s.  

“Do you need a ride home?” Riley asked Caroline.

“I’m good,” Caroline said.  “Safe travels.”

Riley gave her a two finger salute and got into his car.  He pulled out slowly as Charlie came through the door.  Charlie waved at him and got into his car.  Riley started home going slowly.  It normally took him about thirty minutes on the back roads but this would be probably around forty to fifty.  But as his father always said, go slow in snow, get home in one go.  He thought that his dad was really trying to push for that rhyme.  

Thinking about his dad’s words made him think about Charlie.  His dad liked Charlie and told him to respect the man.  Riley did respect him and it was the reason that he called him boss.  He was the boss.  He was a man of honor and dignity.  He stood up for his employees when the shittier customers gave them the stick.  

His wife was beautiful, tall and willowy.  She had modeled in her youth and had only stopped when she found something else that interested in her.  One of Riley’s coworkers had decided to make a pass at her because he thought that he was God’s gift to women.  Charlie’s wife laughed in his face.  She called her husband and told him what had happened.  Charlie had laughed as well.  They kept laughing until the coworker quit in tears.  

The store was a pet project of Charlie who three loves in his lives.  His wife and children and in a far second, candles.  He made most of them himself.  It’s what kept bringing people back.  He paid Riley enough that he didn’t need a second job.  He gave them health insurance.  At times he felt like he was wasting his life but why break up a good thing?  

The areas outside of the strip mall was mostly farmland.  He kept driving, watching horses wander back into their stable.  There was no one on the road.  It was only eleven a.m.  He thought about the people in their office buildings that stupidly didn’t work for Charlie.  The roads were already starting to get bad.  It would be miserable later that night.   

He got to an intersection with a four way stop.  A man was walking down the street and came to the stop sign.  Riley figured that he could let the man go.  It was worse walking through this than driving.  He thought that up until the man slip and fell.  It was a particularly nasty fall, the man was on his legs and then they went to their left and he hit the ground.  

The man got up but then fell once more.  He then just kind of laid down.  Riley thought driving away but then he wondered when someone would come along.  He thought about it for a few seconds and then put his car in park.

He went to the man.  

“Hello there,” he said.  “Do you need some help?”

“I’m fine, my arm just hurts a little bit,” the man said.

“Can I help you up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Please, sir.”

The man relented and Riley helped him to his feet.  The two of them walked over to Riley’s car.  The man pulled back his hood.  He was old with a well kept beard and whitening hair.  He was wearing a large windbreaker coat.  

“Thank you,” the man said.

“No problem,” Riley said.  “The name’s Riley.  What’s yours?”

“Morgan.”

“Good to meet you, Morgan.  Can I take you somewhere to get checked out?”

“I’m fine.”

“You said your arm hurt and not to be a little ageist, you’re older.  I’m worrying you…”
“I’m not having a heart attack.  I had one of those and I know it’s not that.”

“Sir, please.  The urgent care is just up the road and I’ll take you home.”

“Fine.”

The two of them drove into the snow.  They got to the other strip mall and Riley helped Morgan out of the car.  He shook him off but was still holding his arm.  The urgent care was thankfully open.  A young Indian woman in scrubs was sitting at the front desk.

“Wow, I was just about to leave.  That is providence,” she said.  “How can I help you?”

“This man is having arm pains and he fell out in the snow,” Riley said.

“Are you…” 

“I’m not having a heart attack!” Morgan growled.  

“Fine, fine.  Come in the back, let me check you out.  Would you like your son to come with you?” the doctor asked. 

“He’s not my son,” Morgan said.

“Just a good Samaritan,” Riley added.

“Let’s get you checked out, I’m doctor Indara Patel.”

“You can go, Riley,” Morgan said.  

“I’ll wait.  Gotta make sure you get home or I’ll worry,” Riley said flopping into a chair.  

Riley pulled out his phone and texted his boyfriend.  It was starting to get serious but he still hadn’t met his family.  His name was Keith and he was really getting into with him.  

Riley: Hey, I think that we should cancel tonight.  The snow is really bad.  

Keith: Yeah, I think that’s best.

Riley walked back out to his car and got a book from his bag.  He started reading and made it through a fair amount of his book before Morgan came out wearing a sling.  He seemed unhappy.  

“His arm is broken, I’ve given him some pain medication and an order to take it easy,” Dr. Patel said to Riley.  

“Got it,” Riley said as if that meant anything to him.

“Thank you, miss,” Morgan said sincerely.

“No problem.  I can close up shop with a sound heart,” she said.  “You boys get home safe.”

Riley lead Morgan out to the car and opened the door for him.  He asked Morgan his address and Morgan told him.  He noticed that Morgan stopped and looked at the pride bumper sticker on the back of his car and hesitated for a moment.  He climbed in and Riley started putting the address into his GPS.  

“Do you have a charging cable?  My phone’s dead.  I have to let my son know what’s going on,” Morgan said. 

“Yeah, here,” Riley said and handed it to him.

“Thanks.”

They drove in silence for about three blocks. 

“I know what that sticker on the back of your car means,” Morgan said.

“Oh, do you want me to let you out?” Riley asked.

“No, it’s fine.  My son’s gay.”

“And you’re cool with it?”

“I don’t fully get it but I don’t have to.  He’s happy and I love him.  I call that a win.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“How did your parents take it?”

“My dad gave my mom a twenty when I came out.  They were accepting after that.”

“Ha, he sounds fun.”

“Hm.”

They lapsed into silence.  

“My son brought me to one of those parades one year.  Told me to wear a ‘Free Dad Hugs’ shirts.  So many of them came up to me.  They wept.  They cried in my arms.  I’ve never been more furious in my life.  What poor excuse for a parent lets their child think they don’t care about them?  For that?  Idiots,” Morgan said.  

“Testify,” Riley added.

“My son’s mother didn’t accept him.  It was the one thing bad about her.  I still miss her.  I wish she could have gotten around it.  She missed a lot of good times with him.”

“Hm.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m dating a great guy.”

“Good.  You’re a good person, helping someone you don’t know.”

“I couldn’t leave you.  It’d be horrible.  I’d be like one of those parents.”

“Exactly.”

Riley drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and then told Siri to play some Johnny Cash.  Morgan nodded approvingly.  

“My phone has a bit of a charge, I’m going to call my son,” Morgan said.

“Go ahead,” Riley said.

Morgan put the phone to his ear.  The son on the other end picked up immediately.  Riley only heard one side of the conversation and it went like this: 

“Hello?  Yeah, I’m fine.  I just had a bit of a slip.  My arm is busted.  I’ll be fine.  I was out walking.  A nice young man picked me up.  Took me to the urgent care.  Nice doctor.  Said she ask for his number but turns out he’s gay.  Yeah, yeah.  He’s going to take me home.  Should be about thirty minutes.  You don’t have to do that.  I can manage.  Fine.  I’ll see you in a bit.  I love you.  See you soon.”

He hung up the phone. 

“My son is going to meet us at my house,” Morgan said.  

“Good, I’ll know when he gets near.  Using my gaydar.  We don’t tell you that’s what it’s actually for.  Identifying when we’re near to each other.  Straight people don’t actually have it,” Riley said.

Morgan let out a coughing laugh.  Riley noticed his phone was buzzing.  He saw it was Keith.  He answered it on speaker phone.  

“Hello?” Riley asked.  

“Hey!” Keith said. 
    Morgan looked down at the phone. 

“My dad fell when he was out walking, I’m heading over to his house.  He broke his arm,” Keith gasped.

“That sucks,” Riley said.

“Yeah, some guy is driving him home.  I’d kiss him, if I wasn’t already dating you,” Keith said.  

Riley glanced at Morgan, a smile spreading across his face.  

“I mean, you can kiss him if you want.  He’s doing something really nice,” Riley said chuckling a little bit.  

“He is,” Keith said.  “Why did he need to go for a walk!  I would have brought him anything he needed.  Ugh, I love him but he’s so stubborn sometimes.”

Morgan looked at the phone and raised an eyebrow.  Riley realized that he was walking a tightrope walk.  

“Let’s not be too harsh on him.  Everything you told me about him shows that he’s a good guy,” Riley said quickly.  

“He is, he’s the best man I know.  He’s my hero.  He just needs to know that sometimes he shouldn’t go out in a blizzard,” Keith said.

Morgan nodded his head back and forth seemingly agreeing.  

“You know you never told me your dad’s name.  What is it?” Riley said.

“Morgan,” Keith said.

“Cool name.”

“It is.  Alright, I have to pay attention to the road.  I’ll see you later. I might have to stay over his house a few times to make sure that he’s okay.”

“Hey, do what you have to do.  No worries on my end.”

“Okay great.  I’ll see you when I can.”

“See you.”

Keith hung up and Morgan and Riley started laughing.  

“I thought I wasn’t going to make it through that,” Morgan said wiping at his eyes.  

“That was so funny,” Riley said.  

They came to a stop at a stoplight.  Morgan turned in his seat.  

“Nice to meet you,” he said and offered his hand.

“An absolute pleasure to meet you, sir,” Riley said.

“Call me Morgan.”

“Now that you’ve asked, I will.”

“Do you want to stay at my house when Keith gets there?”

“That would be great.  How funny would it be if when he comes through the door, I just come out of the kitchen or something.”

“That’d be great.”

They got to Morgan’s house and Riley helped him into the house.  The two of them sat playing chess and drinking cocoa while they waited.  Morgan was much friendlier now and was sharing stories about Keith.  It was timing perfection where Riley was getting them more cocoa and he heard the door open.  

The look on Keith’s face when he walked into the living room with three cups of cocoa was one that Riley would hold onto for the rest of his life.  During their wedding years later, Morgan would tell this story again with tears in his eyes.  He would toast the man that was a stranger and now he called son.  

Why am I Not Writing?

Leave a reply

I haven’t seriously worked on a manuscript in quite a while. I don’t know why. I’m sure there are things that I can talk to my therapist about this that could get to the heart of it. But it’s Sunday morning and I don’t see her until later this week. Time to think about this on my blog.

It’s not that I don’t have ideas. I’m constantly thinking about my writing. I’m constantly mapping out plot lines, characters and locations. I have big plans for my manuscripts and the world that I’m creating. The work is there, it’s just waiting for me to do it.

I have a writing partner who is burning through one of my past manuscripts, improving it with every comment she makes. I appreciate her to no end. I know that I’m eventually going to have to start coming up with new stuff for her to read. Yet, I don’t do it.

It’s not that I’m not writing at all. It’s just been this blog and short stories. I haven’t gotten into the nitty gritty of a novel or novella. The issue could be that I’m not being kind to myself. That I’m allowing my inner thoughts to tell me that not all writing is created equally and because it’s not a novel, it doesn’t count. But writing is good no matter what you do. It helps free up your mind and lift your spirits. Which is why I don’t want to poo-poo non-novel writing, that would by extension make fanfiction not legitimate when it is.

It could be the size of the project. I know that it’s a number of tinier projects but even with just one part of it, sometimes it feels a bit too much. Maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. The short stories I’ve been writing are more like building up speed. I’ll get back to the novels once I get these stories out.

That could be it, because I do feel a little backed up when it comes to writing. I wrote in my journal last night for the first time in about six months. The act of it, made me want to do it more. So, I’m going to try and make it a daily thing. Turn myself into a regular old Doug Funny. I’m going to follow this idea for a while and see if it pans out. I’m just going to write until I literally can’t anymore. It’ll be a happy journey no matter the destination.

You Just Kind of Know

Leave a reply

Failure isn’t a bad thing and I don’t think that you should ever give up on your dreams. However, I know that I’ve met people in my life who have done so. Those are the people that I try to offer a bit more patience to but the thing is, they are generally not great to be around.

They tend to have a low level of annoyance going at all times. Like a bull constantly getting ready to fight against something. The whole world is frustrating to them. They want vengeance for their dashed dreams. It’s even worse if the world has piled up things that just further push them away from what they really wanted to do. Children, jobs they hate but need or other things like that.

Those things that pile up just churn up more bitterness. Eventually, leading them to have their hatred and anger right behind the eyes. You can see it almost a mile away in these people. The bitterness.

I’ve always believed that you shouldn’t give up on your dreams and that you should push towards them. I know though that I write that from a place of extreme privilege in that I have no one to take care of but myself and I have a good enough job to afford me to do what I want to do.

So, the only thing I can offer is to find a way to do it in an affordable way when you can, which is a tall order for some people. My father knew about my dreams of being a writer but he always wanted me to make sure that I had a job to fall back on. I find the little hours where I can write. According to Stephen King you’re a writer when you have six-eight hours a day to write. I think that that’s stupid though. What would be the point if you’re sitting there and nothing is coming out? I think you should always be thinking about your writing or whatever your hobby is. It can calm you throughout the day.

The benefit for those looking to achieve their dreams is that it’s slightly more possible with the world of Youtube. You can use that to find your possible fans, to elevate yourself and just find a community. It’s raised stars from a variety of people and it could be someone else.

All to make the world a little less angry. Lord knows there’s too much of it. Maybe it would also stop people from voting stupidly.

Character Profile: William Adama

Leave a reply

The character profile series is going to be me going over characters. The things I like about them, hate about them, find interesting or confusing. To start this series off I’m going to start with one of my favorites, Admiral William “Bill” Adama from Battlestar Galactica.

Spoilers for Battlestar Galactica

There’s always been the conversation of whose your favorite starship captain and it always boils down to two choices: Picard or Kirk. Well, you could be a cool kid and go with the radder third option: Adama.

Adama doesn’t have anything backing him, no Federation, no shields, no backup fleet. It’s just him, his pilots an their Vipers and the Galactica herself. The Galactica being nothing more than an upgraded aircraft carrier. Despite all of this, he’s entrusted with the safety of the remnants of humanity. All 50,000 of them, a number that steadily decreases.

He’s a man of principle and brute stubbornness at times. But he still allows his mind to be changed when he’s presented with new information. He’s also willing to listen to those around him when he takes particular lines of action that might not be the most intelligent.

When the fleet splits over the president wanting to remain at Kobold and search for the tomb of Athena, it takes his communications officer to tell him that he’s making a terrible choice. Hell, he wants to stay and fight the Cylons until Roslin has a sit down with him to tell him that that’ll get everyone killed. They end the conversation, he goes away and has a think then comes back to admit that she was right and he was wrong. It’s after the former that the two of them get on the same page and become an unstoppable tag team.

The man also believes in fairness, justice and the law. He has one of the greatest lines in history about the role of the military: ““There’s a reason we separate military and the police. One fights the enemies of the state, the other serves and protects the people. When the military becomes both, then the enemies of the state tend to become the people.”

I’ve seen all kinds of captains of starships. Some of them are happy go lucky, others are reckless and wild. Adama looks like a stick in the mud in comparison. But the sternness in his nature I think is the perfect fit for this show. Those other captains can dance because they have the room to do so. Adama lives on the edge of the knife. If he messes up, that’s the ball game. He could end the entirety of the human race. He’s not the teacher you want every day but when the shit hits the fan, you’re glad he’s running your classroom.

He also passes the Han Solo test. It’s a test that they brought up in the Red Letter Media review of the prequel trilogy. That a good character is one you can describe without bringing up what their job is. Thus, Han Solo is a great character because you don’t need to know he’s a smuggler/pilot to know what kind of person he is, charming, funny, rash, loyal and secretly kind.

Adama is stern, thoughtful, quiet, honorable and stubborn. He makes his presence known without too much effort.

I think alot of this kinds from the fantastic actor that is Edward James Olmos. Also known for killing it in Stand and Deliver. I couldn’t possibly imagine anyone else in the role. Thanks to his masterful work, we also got one of the best romances of sci-fi history which I’ll cover in the Laura Roslin profile.

Adama is a great character amongst greats. He embodies everything that makes Battlestar Galactica stand the test of time. You’ll be seeing more of these show as I keep doing this series.

What I would want from an Animorphs TV show

Leave a reply

https://variety.com/2026/tv/news/animorphs-tv-series-disney-plus-ryan-coogler-1236678435/

In the above link, you can find a story that Ryan Coogler’s production company is in possible works to make an Animorphs TV show. They did it before and it was not that great. The andalites just shoved each other around instead of fighting with their tails. They barely morphed throughout the series because it took too much money to handle the animals. Let’s take some time and I’ll talk to you about what I want in the series.

  1. Animated

I like real animals as much as the next guy but c’mon, it would be very expensive and dangerous to have the Animorphs’ battle morphs on set at the same time. They are in no particular order tiger, bear, gorilla, wolf and red tailed hawk. Along with whatever nonsense they’re going to do for the andalites. That’s going to be no small task in live action, I mean look at these things:

The solution, I think is turning it into animation. We’ve had some great serious animation like with Invincible and Primal and I think that this would make it easier to do some of the major sci-fi things and animal violence without involving real animals.

I’m not sure what kind of style I would do it in, maybe a more realistic one. Considering the anti-war messages, I think having some starkness to it would be better. People have mentioned Invincible and I think that’s the best option. Realistic but then body horror during the morphing. I would love to see everyone’s reactions to the things that we had to see in our mind’s eyes when we were kids reading these books. Behold that time Jake’s tiger morph nearly got eaten by fire ants. Behold that time Marco’s gorilla morph had skin ripped off from the ice that he landed on in the arctic in book 25. Those are just the ones off the top of my head.

2. Make every book a two part episode

I’m not talking two hour long episodes but instead the way they split up the original Justice League cartoon episodes. We’re sticking with that this is in animation and hopefully less to produce. Plus, it would make sure that there’s enough time for the entire book to get covered. Such as with book 6 where Jake gets a yeerk in his ear after a mission. There’s a part in the book, where Ax realizes what’s going on before anyone else and whips his tail up against Jake’s throat screaming <YEERK!>. Boom, episode end.

The next episode starts with Jake being locked in the shed that he would spend the rest of the book in. There’s not much in these books but you do need to give them room to breath. Which brings me to my next point…

3. Make room for more characterization

There’s not much downtime in an Animorphs book. You know enough about the kids that I can give you their personality traits. They would also always have a little adventure in the beginning as in one of the books they go to the circus and free the animals because Cassie hated the circus.

It would be great to get some little best friend moments between the two friendships, Jake and Marco and Rachel and Cassie respectively. Have some moments where we see Tobias going about his day as a hawk and maybe when he can get the chance to morph again, showing him getting used to being a human. Going on little adventures with Ax possibly. Hanging at the mall, which brings me into another point…

4. Place in its time period of the mid to late 90s

It’s going to be difficult to keep the secret of the Animorphs in the modern age. Sure, you could explain away kids morphing by saying it’s AI but that’s only going to last for so long. Plus, if they don’t have access to a whole bunch of other things like Uber and cell phones, it can help hype up the tension. Plus, there aren’t many good things that came out of the late nineties or early aughts. Give them something.

5. Keep the enemies mysterious

On Battlestar Galactica, we got three and a half seasons of the Cylons being an overarching and mysterious threat to the colonists. Then we started getting plot lines on the basestar, which were okay but for me never had the same impact as the human storylines. It did however showcase their eventual change throughout the series into what they would become in the end. A completely different entity. I don’t need to know what Visser Three gets up to in his spare time. The Yeerks should not get the same characterization as the children. Let them just be a threat.

In conclusion, I’m excited by the idea but it’s going to take a lot to make me think this is viable. Animorphs is a tough nut to crack off of the page. I wouldn’t be surprised if this didn’t make it past the planning stages.

A Moment in the Life of Fred Durst

Leave a reply

(I wrote this because I was listening to the Mom Can’t Cook episode about Lemonade Mouth where the bad guy is a rap rocker. I listened to Break Stuff and it is a really good song for what it is. This idea just popped into my head. I actually have a great deal of respect for the man. Him showing up in I Saw the TV Glow, a deeply trans film and Y2K where he good-naturedly made fun of himself. I think that he might be an alright dude.)

He didn’t have to look around to find his trusted red baseball cap. It was always within arms’ reach and of course, he could easily summon it to his hand through the deep magic of nu metal. He could not show people that though, lest he be stripped of his powers by the nu metal mages that taught him his dark craft. But now was the time to write. Now was the time to express himself.

He sat down at his desk. He tapped his pencil against the desk, it’s point ready to be dulled through his art. He looked at his notebook. What would he bring into the being? What would he draw from the fabric of creation?

He decided that he had to speak to the people. To the everyman. What was one of the most universal things to say to somebody else? He thought for a few moments and nodded to himself.

“Did you ever have one of those days?”

There it was. A cordial phrase. One that you would say to a friend. Someone you loved. They would know that you’re going to talk about a shared experience. What else did people not want? Sometimes you…

“Did you ever have one of those days? Where you didn’t want to wake up.”

Yes, yes, YES. He was describing a bad day. Everyone had had bad days. Of course, he was far richer so his bad days were much better than others. Much easier. But he could still relate to the people. He needed to describe the people that you encountered.

“Everything is fucked. Everybody sucks.”

Beautiful. He was a wordsmith. He had to keep going.

“You don’t really know why.”

Excellent. Time to express the anger. Truly express it.

“But you really want to justify ripping someone’s off.”

What if he was an assassin? One that you didn’t want to make angry?

“No human contact. And if you interact, your life is on contract.”

His pencil was nearly on fire. He kept writing. When he was done, the eraser remained untouched because why would you need to erase any of it? He had had his pencil wore near down to the nub. But he looked upon his song, “Break Stuff”. This certainly wouldn’t come back to bite him in the year 1999.