Bryan Timothy Mitchell's Blog

Sitting under a canvas umbrella in a wooden lounge chair, Bettie fans her face, staring into the distance with a perpetual smile. “Oh, Earl! Don’t you just love the sound of the ocean crashing on the beach. I just knew this was the perfect place for our romantic getaway.”

Beside her, Earl grunts loudly, which means both yes and can’t you see I’m reading. His eyes are fixed on a paperback novel that he found in the condo. The cover suggested that it was a thriller, but it has proved to be a gothic romance. Being fifty pages in, he’s too invested to set it aside, and though he’ll never admit it to his golfing buddies, he wants to see if Malachi Grumble will see the error of his ways and finally accept his undying love for Tabitha Blackwood.

“Excuse me, sir and ma’am,” I say, stepping into the center of Bettie’s panoramic view of the ocean. “I notice you don’t have any water bottles. You know it very well could be the hottest day on record, according to the weatherman.”

“Oh,” Bettie says. “We’re quite fine, thank you, and while we’re aware of the heat index, heat dome, and the indomitable heat monster, it’s just too beautiful out here to worry ourselves.” She scowls to her right. “Isn’t that right, Earl?”

“Why does Darci keep coming between Malachi and Tabitha?” Earl says, gesturing to his gothic romance novel. “She has nothing to gain with her insistent lies. Malachi doesn’t love her. He wants to be with Tabitha.” He shakes his head, leaning farther back in his chair. “If only he hadn’t been burned so many times before.”

“Speaking of burn,” I interject, “you’re looking rather red if I say so myself. Have you applied any sunscreen lotion today?”

“I don’t mind getting sunburned,” Earl says, waving off my suggestion as if tossing it into the ocean. “Besides, Bettie’s right. This place really is paradise, so I really can’t complain.”

Yes, you can, Earl! In fact, we all can. Whether we’re basking in the summer heat on some island paradise or sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons, we can complain, and for those of you who like to say “it wouldn’t do any good if I did,” well, I beg to differ. Some of the best friendships are formed on finding mutual things to complain about, and there’s no better pastime than complaining about the weather, especially the summer heat. With a little help you can build camaraderie with your peers and let them not only know your plight but how you have experienced even worse heat than anybody else on the face of the earth. So, get your pen and paper ready, Earl. It’s time to learn the art of complaining about the heat like a pro.

“You know, if Malachi would listen to Tabitha for change…” Earl huffs indignantly.

No matter where you are on the planet, whether you’re sprawled in a partly deflated life raft in the middle of the Mediterranean or getting a piggyback ride from a penguin in Antarctica, you can always make a new friend with the simplest question. “How about this weather we’re having?”

Oh, I know it’s cliche to start a conversation about the weather, but hey, it works. And the reason why it works is because we are all experiencing the same weather wherever we are. And while people may defer to a “glass is half full” mentality (Oh, I know. Isn’t it just lovely.), you can always offer up a clever hyperbole to give them a taste of who you are, and then you can get them to agree with you very easily by following it with a little nod and another question. For example:

I plop down next to Bettie, sitting on the scorching hot sand. “Whooo wee! This weather is somethin’ ennit?”
“Well, like I said it’s rather nice today,” she says, smiling or possibly wincing.
“I tell you what!” I grab my shirt and flap it wildly in a vain attempt to cool off. “It’s hotter than a fried tater smothered and slathered in buffalo sauce sweat. Know what I mean?” I nod with a huge smile.

Bettie nods but seems confused.

See how that works, folks? The beautiful thing about this is that oftentimes, people nod back for different reasons. Maybe they weren’t really listening and just nod to make you think they were. Or possibly, they heard exactly what you said and are too busy scheming up a way to get out of the conversation to provide a retort. But the most likely situation is that you’ve broken through their inability to complain about the weather, and that my friend, is where lifelong friendships begin. Let’s continue the conversation.

Bettie glances out to the ocean, frowning with much more thought now. “Well, now that you mention it,” she says, “I can recall hotter days, like the summer of 69. But you wouldn’t know about that. You weren’t even born back then.”

Oh, she’s clever, isn’t she? Not only is Bettie letting me know that this day isn’t anywhere near as hot as previous days she’s experienced, she’s also letting me know that I’m a bit of a wimp. This is where being old gives you an advantage, but let’s be real, folks. You can’t walk uphill both ways to school and back through rain, snow, sleet, or through the apocalyptic fury of the four horsemen. There’s gotta be a moment when the hill goes down, duh! So don’t feel discouraged; you can win the exchange, and it all starts with the idea of “a different kind of heat”.

Let’s observe my response to Bettie.

“Oh yeah, the summer of 69,” I nod, letting her think briefly that she’s won. “Bryan Adams told me all about it. Apparently, those were the best days of his life. But I have to tell you, I’ve also experienced worse heat than this, a different kind of heat, such as the time I was riding a camel through the Sahara in search of a man who went out there on a horse with no name. It was so dry that even my mirages were asking me directions to water. So while humidity can make ya think you’re drowning although you’re just sitting on a beach, dry heat can suck you thirstier than a vegan vampire at a rock concert.”

“Stop listening to Darci, you moron.” Earl turns to us. “You know, Malachi doesn’t deserve Tabitha.”

See how I strategically moved my pieces in this chess match of a conversation? I invoked my worldly travels, mentioning dry heat and the humidity. Those who can’t complain would likely just agree with you, but a well-seasoned complainer like Bettie, well, she wouldn’t want to just fold her hand and let you go home with the win. She may not be able to out complain me on the weather, but she has plenty more to complain about in relation to the weather to keep the middle-game a tight match.

“Well, the weatherman’s three degree guarantee was for 89 degrees,” she says, turning to me with a incredulous look. Very clever and even more so by topping it off with a stern follow-up remark. “Can you believe that?”

That my folks is some complaining ninjitsu there. Bettie is saying a lot. Not only is she saying the weatherman was four degrees off, rendering his “guarantee” null and void, as if he had personally wronged her, but she’s also saying that I can’t out complain her. She just upped the ante and where could I possibly go from there? I realize, at that moment, I’m dealing with a grandmaster complainer, and what she doesn’t realize is that I’m a fourth-degree black belt grandmaster times eleven and a half. So, what do I tell her?

“Actually, I can believe that,” I say with satisfaction as her stern look melts like wax in the sun. “The weatherman can’t get anything right.”

Of course she has to agree. She nods and rolls her eyes not about the inaccuracy of the weatherman but that she had tipped her hand. Now I’m in charge of this conversation of mounting complaints, and when you have your opponents up against the ropes in the middle game, you gotta get to checkmate. This is one way to get there.

“Back in the day, they used to try and handle their inaccuracies with statements such as “although this could change…” or “it’s still too early to tell…”. Nowadays, they use all these models. This model says it’s going to be 33 degrees, but that model says 31 degrees. Mah, mah mah… He’s just trying to dodge culpability.”

Checkmate. My friends. She knows that I know how the weatherman operates not only now but back in the day. But sometimes the game never truly ends. No, sometimes complaining leads to long-term friendships where we find time to complain to each other about random things from that day on. You know you’ve met a complaining companion should you reach checkmate and they respond with something such as this.

“I know people like to say weatherman but the person who gave me the weather this morning was a skinny blonde girl named Sandy,” Bettie turns and sneers. “Can you believe that? A blonde named Sandy.”

“Disgusting,” Earl says, slapping the pages of his paperback. “Malachi just proposed to Darci, while her henchmen have Tabitha tied up in the Hidden Catacombs of DeBwah!”

Maybe some of you are thinking that Bettie hasn’t given up, that the argument isn’t over, but we went from complaining about the weather to complaining about the weatherman to complaining about colloquialism as it pertains to women and men in general. Game Over. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop arguing. But don’t go out trying to out complain old ladies like Bettie just yet. They got aches, pains, husbands who only made things worse by trying to fix it themselves, a lifetime of experience, but if you stick with me, you’ll not only become a better complainer but a master complainer. This I guarantee, like the weatherman… weather woman… weather person… whether it’s weatherman or weather woman, always remember it’s OK to complain about the weather. Right Earl?

He sniffs, wiping his eyes. “Malachi…”
“Oh, Earl,” Bettie touches his arm.
“OUUCH!”
Bettie turns to me, smiling slyly. “He’s so sensitive.”

The post Say, How About This Weather We’re Having appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

Feeling a little too rosy about getting your taxes done on time? Are you in the middle of creating a custom Thank you card to mail to your tax specialist, for all their effort and support? Stop! You may be one of the many people who are incapable of complaining. I’m Bryan Timothy Mitchell and I’ll help you find ways to complain so everybody can know exactly how you feel.

First things first. Don’t you just looOOoove gathering all the details you need to share with the federal government: the receipts, bank records, W-2 forms, itemized lists of every expenditure you could think of from last year? I sure don’t. Even going online to download these documents feels like I’m scrolling through endless lists on Netflix, knowing good and well I’m not watching anything. Not until I’m in the mood at least. And what that mood is and when it’ll come is well beyond anybody’s guess, even mine. But let’s complain about that another time, we’ve got to get our taxes done or face federal charges.

You finally get the last document you need through the mail, and now, you can finally take all your important sheets of paper, all seasoned with mustard stains and watermarks, to the place that was a Spirit of Halloween store mere months ago. It has a tattered, washed-out canvas sign dangling over the entrance now that reads “EZ Tax Solutions”. See how they get ya!? Should you go in, you’ll find dozens of desks and chairs scattered about, but only Gary is working on any given day. Why? Because he lost too many games of rock, paper, scissors at Disney World, and now he wants to take revenge on humankind, one soul at a time.

Gary milks it too, moving in slow motion. His eyes are set somewhere between blank and blurry, which narrows things down if you’re consulting a dictionary. I’ll let you look it up, because just as I’m too lazy to do my own taxes, I’m also too lazy to do alphabet math in a book that would hurt my foot if it slipped from my grasp. Let’s get back to EZ Tax Solutions before Uncle Sam has a hissy fit though.

Sitting in this unconditioned utilitarian dungeon, waiting on your turn with a ticket number that is synonymous with what Beetlejuice drew at the end of his first movie, you may peek up at Gary the evil genius and destroyer of dreams, and find him talking to his current client, who just so happens to be me. At that moment, you may wonder why I’m being so animated with him. Well, I’m happy to oblige.

“Sorry, Mr. Um Mitchell. It seems that my scanner has stopped working, but don’t worry, it breaks every single time I have a new customer. It shouldn’t be a problem, really. The real problem is that my computer screen has frozen again.” He spam-clicks his mouse to prove it. “I’ll restart it once I remember where the shutoff button is. HA! HA! I always forget. Anyway, once it’s back up and running, we’ll just start back at square one. The good news is that I’ve remembered all your private information from the first six times it froze. So, you won’t have to do much besides sit there and trust I’m doing everything correctly. I know this seems like it could be a heavy burden for me, but don’t worry. Although this job can be rough, I honestly can’t complain.”

“Oh, you poor unfortunate soul,” I say. “Today is your lucky day, Gary. ‘Cause I can get you complaining in no time at all. For instance, have you noticed how uncomfortable these flimsy plastic seats are?”

Gary adjusts his seating position and shrugs. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Oh, no you don’t, Gary. These seats are not recommended by orthopedic experts, and on top of that, their curvature is as unnecessary as an appendix, and I’m not talking about the helpful ones you find in books, but the ones that could go full Xenomorph at any given time on your insides.”

“What’s a Xenomorph?” Gary replies. “Oh, yay me. I found the off button.”

That was a very long day, was it not? And we’re not even through with taxes yet. Still unable to complain? Stick around.

Maybe you bypass the tax dungeons and go straight to your home computer where the most advanced tax software awaits your fingertips. Sure, the cost seems astronomical, but this is an investment that’ll improve your tax filing experience for years to come. Quick question: Which would you prefer, answering a gazillion tax questions or taking the SAT every year for the rest of your life? I hope you studied because if you don’t know the definitions of Income, Unearned Income, Pre-Historic Income, Scrutinized Income, and Income Part Two: The Saga Continues, you may find yourself in a bind!

Maybe everything up to now is just fine and dandy. Easy Peasy. No problem at all, but we’re not done. As you can see, there are several paragraphs left. So, buckle up, buttercup!

Have you developed a hoarder’s mentality thanks to the recommended time you should store your finished tax records? Something tells me, I’m not the only one. After decades of braving the tax prep dungeons, I have countless mounds of tax documents stacked everywhere. Why? Because I truly in my heart of hearts have no clue when I can say, it’s OK to let them go. But you can’t just let go of sensitive information, not in this day and age. Oh no, you really have to destroy them all! But here’s the thing. You buy a shredder and feed it a few pages at a time. Oh no! You put in one too many, and now it’s jammed. There’s a burnt smell, along with some pretty sparks. And it’s not even July yet. How nice.

“But Bryan, you don’t need to buy a shredder. You can burn them, duh.” I wish that were true, my friend. The truth is that there is a no burning ordinance in my city. Thank you for keeping us safe, Archdale, North Carolina. Believe you me, if I were to step outside into my own yard and burn sixty million sheets of paper filled with my private information, the police would come over knowing good and well I wasn’t having a Bar-B-Q.

Now you see why I have a katrillion tax documents piled up in my closet? Good thing no one’s asked me to produce any particular record. I’d getting lost in there if I tried. This isn’t a wardrobe, so I obviously wouldn’t be in Narnia. Absolutely not. I’d be in Nightmareland. But hey, things may not be so bad there. Still, I’d find something to complain about, and folks, if I can do that in a place where taxes don’t exist, you can do it in a place where it does.

Stay tuned for more advice!

Click here for More Help on Complaining

The post Let’s Complain About Taxes! appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

Last month, I felt inspired to write something that could benefit the whole entire world. You see, all my life people have let me in on a secret about themselves. People I know, even total strangers, chose me, entrusted me, with personal information pertaining to a deep psychological problem of theirs, and unbeknownst to them, they all suffer from the very same thing. It’s a sign, really. It’s as if society has cried out to me, specifically, for help, and I’ve stood by for far too long. But not any longer, ladies and gentlemen, yours truly is stepping up to the plate.

I am about to take on an epidemic that is plaguing our society. It affects more than ninety-nine percent of people, which means that more than likely you need my help. Yes, you may be one of the many people who “can’t complain”.

Quite a problem if you think about it. These poor folks could get run over by a car and wouldn’t be able to voice their frustration. A piano could fall on top of them, and they wouldn’t have a say. We all know that stress is a killer in this day and age, but few seem to understand that one of the best ways to alleviate it is to complain. Yeah, sure you’re stressing someone else out with your drama, but hey, you’ll feel better for it in the end. So, moving forward, I, Bryan Timothy Mitchell, will put on my therapist hat and provide special insights that’ll help society overcome the inability to complain.

Some of you may wonder what makes me qualified to provide such care. I’d say that would be a fair question, but if you re-read that sentence there is no question mark there. Go back and check if you like. I’ll wait. It’s not like I have anything else better to do. (That is what I call stark sarcasm, and you can do it too. I promise with a little practice we’ll get you there.)

Needless to say, I am more than willing to oblige in presenting my credentials in this subject matter. First off, everyone came to me with this information. I asked how they were doing, and they told me very plainly “Can’t complain.” And you know what? My heart truly goes out to them. It’s awful, really. Sure, there are other problems out there. Some people are “Livin’ the dream”, but we’ll get to those weirdos later, basically all they need anyway is a healthy dose of pessimism, but I solve the world’s problem one at a time. (That folks is subtle sarcasm, and you can learn to do it too, just stick around.)

But being the bearer of this information isn’t the only credential I have. I’m also the Founder of the Complainers” Expression & Organization Network, aka ComE ON! And yes, I did just make that up, but still, I’m qualified, and I’ll prove it in the next paragraph or whatever it is… List maybe? Can you believe I got a degree in English and I don’t know if this next block of words is a paragraph or not. (See how easy it is, friends? Stick with me and I’ll have you complaining like a champ in no time.)

As a US Army veteran, I was a well-known complainer amongst my peers and most certainly the chain of command, providing small complaints to even the last person who’d ever want to hear them. Complaints such as: “This sucks.” “My feet hurt.” “Oh, my back!” “Why are we doing this?”

Those are always helpful to dish out any ole time. But folks, I didn’t hold myself to only small complaints when I was a soldier. Oh no! I made bigger ones all throughout my military career. A handful that come to mind are as follows: “For goodness’ sake, if I have to tell you how to polish a boot one more time, you’re going to be doing push-ups until my arms are tired!” “They call this rubber-tasting lump of garbage chicken?” “Whatcha mean I have to wax the floor? It’s already shinier than the top of your big head. Whatcha mean extra duty? It was only an observation!” “Suede boots? We can’t polish suede boots. Dog-on soldiers won’t have anything to do on their spare time if they can’t polish their boots!”

Needless to say, I can help these poor souls, so if you or someone you know is struggling to complain, do not worry. Help is on the way. Wanna leave a comment, then too bad! I don’t wanna hear it, I mean read it.

The post Can’t Complain? We’re Here to Help. appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

Why a Security Guard Chased Me at the Mountain of Terror

You may ask, “What is a good boy like me doing at the Mountain of Terror?”

Well, it was a cool evening in October, and through an internet radio station, I had won tickets to attend a haunted house attraction called (big echoey voice) the Mountain of Terror. When the date had finally arrived, my wife and I, along with several of my misfit pals, piled into my car and drove deep into the forest.

As we neared it, we came upon a dirt road with deep trenches and tall pines lining either side. It was so foreboding. I should’ve been scared, especially now that dusk was near. Soon, strange people in makeup, costumes and masks (OH MY) would do their best to frighten me. I wasn’t the least bit frightened unfortunately. At the time, I felt there was no possible way these persons could scare me because not only was I a US Army Veteran, but I was also a veteran of working at haunted house attractions when I was in high school. (“Hi, Spookywoods! Still love you, guys.”)

I remember having so much fun scaring people, which was why I would do my best to make them think I was the biggest fraidy cat they’d ever seen. Yes, those who were hoping beyond hope to scare somebody, anybody, would get their wish from me that night, especially with the crew that joined me; they too were veterans of haunted house attractions. Not only were we going to have ourselves a good time, so were those who worked there. Not everyone though I guess. We’ll get to the security guard later.

I think the only one who didn’t run as cowardly as a particular lion, who lived along a particular yellow brick road, was my wife. I believe she was amused and possibly wondered what on earth would she have to deal with the many years to come. After all, out of all of us, I was the worst and I’ll tell you why.

Near the end of the extremely scary haunted house was a dreadful maze full of nightmare-inducing scares and props. Should you endure it, you’ll find a slide and finally escape the (big echoey voice) Mountain of Terror! My friends found the slides rather easily, but not me. I was so overwhelmed with fear that I kept fleeing back the way I had come. Sometimes I’d find myself at one of the very few dead ends, clawing at the wall begging for someone to help me. If I remember right, I think the guy with the chainsaw or maybe the axe kept telling me where I’d find the exit, but what can I say? (shrug) You’re Welcome!

At some point, my wife was no longer amused, but I couldn’t just break character. I’d come this far being the biggest fraidy cat this place had ever seen, and there was no way on earth I was going to give up on that now. My friends were all laughing at me as I bravely struggled through the simple maze. It took a long while but my wife eventually dragged me toward the correct path that led to our escape. At the time, I was frozen with fear because someone in a werewolf costume (it may have been a scary clown but same difference) was slowly approaching. I pretended to try and escape my wife’s grip and flee back toward the entrance but thankfully my wife, my hero, finally, saved me.

Just before going down the slide I remember getting a strange look from someone who worked there. She made sure that people went down the slide safely. Good call, Mountain of Terror safety officer. Everything about the look on her face told me, they had bought my act, hook, line, and sinker. I missed my calling as an actor. We all slid down the slide in very good spirits. Although none of us were really scared, we had a blast pretending. Attendance was low at that particular time, so in a way it was like our own gigantic funhouse. No doubt, the actors were ready to get more scares after our shenanigans.

“But Bryan what about the security guard.”

(This is where the story begins. Don’t worry it’ll be short.)

On our way back to the car, a tall and very fit security guard stood with a walkie talkie, flashlight, and who knows what else on his utility belt. He was what I would call “well-prepared”. He called to us while we were leaving.

“Hey when you pull out be sure to turn left,” he pointed to the very obvious exit where no cars were coming in. There was also a large wooden sign with EXIT spray-painted in black, and it was accompanied by a floodlight which casted brilliant light on its surface. Good job traffic controller person, even passing airplanes would know which way to go from here. “If you don’t turn left,” he continued. “you’ll head straight to the traffic coming in. OK? So, be sure to turn left.”

Although the exit was obvious, there was a flaw in his directions. There were grass lots that had to turn right in order to reach the exit. My car just happened to be in one of those lots. Thank goodness.

“I’m parked over there,” I pointed to the lot, and because I’m a bit of a smart aleck, I asked, “Do I still turn left to leave?”

That flustered the well-prepared security guard a great deal. “No. No. You’ll turn right. Just be sure you go that way.” He pointed toward the exit again. “Otherwise you’ll run into traffic and people will have trouble getting in, and you’ll have to turn around.”

I nodded and smiled a mischievous smile, but I think the security guard believed it was a smile that only came from those who were perpetually confused.

“OK. I think I got it.” I was ready to put it at rest and enjoy the rest of my evening but…

This security guard made a critical mistake, giving me an idea. A horrible, wonderful idea.

“Just be sure to turn right,” he said as we walked away.

That was it. His fate was sealed and I couldn’t be happier. From there, I assured him I would find the exit, and I, my wife, and band of misfit friends headed to the car. I let them know right away that I had no plans at all to turn right. This little piggy was going to turn left all the way home.

Because he was watching us I did turn right out of my parking spot which sent me away from the road. That was just to sell him the thought that I was likely the most lost person he’d ever encountered. Considering my Oscar-winning performance in the maze, it was imperative that I remained in character after all. So, after turning right a couple more times, I reached the actual road that would send me to either the entrance or the exit. It was the point of no return, and I did what I had to do. I turned left.

My friends and my wife were chuckling a great deal about this time. I’m a really responsible driver, so I kept my eyes on the road, but a very reliable source, a misfit friend of mine, managed to let me know between fits of laughter that the well-prepared and possibly very flustered security guard was sprinting toward us. Oh dear, I must’ve turned the wrong way.

Mission accomplished. It felt good knowing I could still scare the pants off people. I put the car in reverse, and after a few very professional turns of the steering wheel, we were heading toward the entrance, I mean exit, you know, toward the big wooden sign, the one with those strange markings on it. And a part of me still thinks that a very well-meaning and well-prepared security guard was reconsidering his career choices behind us.

Now could you imagine what kind of person I’d be if I had written that final love letter back in the second grade? If you’re unfamiliar with that story, the link is below. I’ll share more of these true tales in the weeks, months, years ahead. Until next time, be sure to check under your bed for strange people who are waiting to get that spine-tingling scream out of you. AGHHHHH! And no, the closet door isn’t the exit.

Love Letters Nearly Turned Me Into A Supervillain

The post Why a Security Guard Chased Me at the Mountain of Terror appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

The Things That Which I Loathe is Littered Within

May this cursed collection forever retain these wretched things.
These foul amalgamations, least wanted of my thoughts.
This horrid trough of my mind’s annihilation is most unworthy.
Warning: this content has not been through psychiatric evaluation.

Proceed with caution

I share these burdens not in vain,
These loathsome things must be known.
Through sharp discourse galvanized with pointed emphasis
Their foul creations shall be exposed so all may see, and…
The whole family can enjoy this knowledge for free

This Thing That Which I Loathe is a Bird

Birds, always, in all ways, will be worthy of worst.
Opinions may vary, they have their advocates, pfft!
But they keep loiterin’ in the yard.
Who do they think they are, messin’ around here?

I mean that literally

Bunch of good for nuthin’ loafers,
Do they not have somewhere else better to be?
They hop, squawk, and flap around like they do!
Dropping their ugly bullseye patterns wherever they choose.
Available for your viewing pleasure on a nearby mailbox.

This Thing That Which I Loathe is Losing the Keys

They’re not in here. or in there.
A U2 song blares in my head
I check the fridge, but why?
Time to check my pockets for the thirty-third time.What was I looking for again?

That’s right! My keys!
They’re not in the couch.
Not on the roof or under the porch
Oh, here they are. In my hand.
Now what was I going to do again?

The post Things in Which I Loathe appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

In late July, I attended Realm Makers 2025 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which happens to be close to where Descendant Publishing calls home. My wife and I kicked things off by joining Troy and Stacy Hooker at a cookout with other authors. We had a great time catching up with other author friends whom we’ve known for years, and meeting new faces for the first time. I also got the opportunity to meet my editor, Dawn Carter, along with her husband and kids in person. I love all these folks. They’re good people.

A lot of the contributors to the Allies of Majesty Chronicles: Volume 1 were there. I recently received my copy in the mail. On August 14th, it will be available on Amazon. I contributed a novelette, called Melodiel’s Rhapsody. All the works in this anthology is based on an RPG Anthony Diastello called Allies of Majesty, which is based on the works of Michael Heiser. If you’re unsure what that is, try searching for The Unseen Realm. Seeing the excitement of all the contributors to this work and their loved ones was a true pleasure. Now, I should talk about the conference!

This year’s Realm Makers included an expo for fans for the first time. There was a massive assortment of Christian creatives, authors, publishers, game designers, artists, animators, and more! It was nice to visit the expo, but my focus was on the sessions that Realm Makers had for writers. While I’ve written a couple of novels (and a noveletta), I still have much to learn and plenty of reminders needed to help me become the best writer I can be. So attending classes by Stephen James and Donald Maas was the highlight of my time at Realm Makers. I got the opportunity to introduce Donald Maas for his classes, with help from Stephanie Warner, a fellow author and podcaster. We had a lot of fun with that and I believe Donald did as well. My awesome editor and friend, Dawn, was also in attendance for all of these classes.

Other classes were happening at the same time, but I can revisit those through the Realm Makers website for the rest of the year. Essentially, I won’t miss anything. For the awards banquet I dressed up as Jareth from Labyrinth. That was a first for me. There were so many familiar and new faces at the conference and catching up with everyone as well as meeting new friends was one of my biggest priorities. I pitched Iffy Eats Monsters for Breakfast to a Penguin Random House editor, while she enjoyed the story, I don’t have a literary agent, so I put the cart before the horse with that one. Donald Maas stated I could query him, so we’ll see how that works out. I’ve queried over a dozen agents since Realm Makers. It’s hard to get representation. Literary agents have to be highly selective. Traditional publishers want what they want, and even if an agent appreciates your work and your accomplishments, they may have to pass on it.

If agents can’t take you on it isn’t the end of the world. A smaller house, such as Descendant Publishing, or self publication may be the way to go. If Iffy doesn’t match up with any literary agents right now, going either of those routes allows Iffy to come out earlier, but there would be more costs associated with it. I would have to set up a Kickstarter campaign to make it happen, which would be a lot of fun. I’ll give agents some time to decide if I’m a good fit for them before deciding.

Honestly, I think a Kickstarter would be a real fun thing to do. I could add all kinds of perks. Special editions of Infernal Fall and Almost Paradise. Meet and greets. I could do critiques with fellow authors. Create Iffy plushies as add-ons. All sorts of stretch goals could be added. And as exciting as it all is, it’ll require some planning. I’ll keep you posted in my Newsletter.

Back to Realm Makers. I got to meet Brent Weeks, an awesome author who was really cool to chat with. Sarah Arthur was a blast. Turns out she and her husband are Duke fans like my wife and me. We got a kick out of that. I enjoyed getting to meet all the keynote speakers and catching up with the faculty members of Realm Makers. They are a special group of people for sure. There was a church service on the final day, which fell on Sunday. Bradley Caffee, another talented author and friend, led the sermon. The service was truly special, and the message resonated. My dear friend, Sophia Hansen, was my nearest neighbor for that.

I look forward to future Realm Maker Conferences. If you’d like to know what Realm Makers is up to and be notified when Christian speculative fiction writers have new releases, you can go to Realmmakers.com and sign up for their free monthly newsletter and more. If you join the Realmsphere, be sure to say hello.

The post Why I love Realm Makers appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

In late July, I attended Realm Makers 2025 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which happens to be close to where Descendant Publishing calls home. My wife and I went to their neck of the woods, about a 20-minute drive, to enjoy a cookout with them and some fellow author friends of mine. I also got the opportunity to meet my editor, Dawn Carter, along with her husband and kids. I could go on for a very long time about everyone who was there, but I have too much to share. I’ll say that I value them all a great deal. They’re good people. I know there are a lot of good people out there, but when you only get so many opportunities to hang out with dear friends who live hundreds, if not thousands of miles away, it’s a real pleasure when you do.

A lot of the contributors to the Allies of Majesty Chronicles: Volume 1 were there. I recently received my copy in the mail. On August 14th, it will be available on Amazon. I wrote what would be considered a novelette, and it’s called Melodiel’s Rhapsody. It ended up being longer than I intended, but it was fun to write. Anthony Diastello created an RPG, Allies of Majesty, based on the works of Michael Heiser. If you’re unsure what that is, try searching for The Unseen Realm in a browser of your choice. Seeing the excitement of all the contributors to this work and their loved ones was cool. There were others there whom I’ve known for a while, and others I met for the first time. So that was my kickoff to a great conference.

This year’s Realm Makers also included an expo for fans. There was a massive assortment of Christian creatives who were authors, publishers, game designers, artists, and a lot more. It was nice to visit the expo, but my focus was on the sessions that Realm Makers had for writers. While I’ve written a couple of novels (and a noveletta), I still have much to learn and plenty of reminders needed to help me become the best writer I can be. So attending classes by Stephen James and Donald Maas was the highlight of my time at Realm Makers. I got the opportunity to introduce Donald Maas for his classes, which is super cool. I had a lot of fun with that. My awesome editor and friend, Dawn, also joined those classes.

Other classes were happening at the same time, but I can revisit those through the Realm Makers website for the rest of the year. Essentially, I won’t miss anything. There was the awards banquet where I dressed up as Jareth from Labyrinth. That was a first for me. I also got to hang out with many author friends who weren’t at the cookout on my first night there. Catching up with everyone was truly the highlight of the conference for me. I pitched Iffy Eats Monsters for Breakfast to a Penguin Random House editor, while she enjoyed the story, I don’t have a literary agent, so I put the cart before the horse with that one. Donald Maas stated I could query him, so we’ll see how that works out. I’ve queried over a dozen agents since leaving Realm Makers, but I don’t believe I’ll get anyone to represent me.

Literary agents are highly selective, and while I’m an award-winning author, that doesn’t mean I’m a fit for every agent out there. Plus, my previous works are different from Iffy Eats Monsters for Breakfast. While I’ll remain hopeful, I’m always going to be realistic when it comes to this. Without an agent and going with a smaller publishing house, Iffy can come out earlier, but there would be more costs associated with it as well. I would have to set up a Kickstarter campaign to make it happen. I’ll give agents some time to decide if I’m a good fit for them before I decide on that.

Honestly, I think a Kickstarter would be a real fun thing to do. I could add all kinds of perks. Special editions of Infernal Fall and Almost Paradise. Meet and greets. I could do critiques with fellow authors. Create Iffy plushies as add-ons. All sorts of stretch goals could be added. And as exciting as it all is, it’ll require some planning. I’ll keep you posted in my Newsletter.

Back to Realm Makers. I got to meet Brent Weeks, an awesome author who was really cool to chat with. Sarah Arthur was a blast. Turns out she and her husband are Duke fans like my wife and me. We got a kick out of that. I enjoyed getting to meet the keynote speakers and catching up with the faculty members of Realm Makers. They are a special group of people for sure. There was a church service on the final day, which fell on Sunday. Bradley Caffee, another talented author and friend, led the sermon. The service was really beautiful, and the message resonated.

I look forward to future Realm Maker Conferences. If you’d like to know what Realm Makers is up to and be notified when Christian speculative fiction writers have new releases, you can go to Realmmakers.com and sign up for their free monthly newsletter and more. If you choose to join the Realmsphere, be sure to say hello to me.

The post Why I love Realm Makers. appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

It has been some time since my last release, Almost Paradise. I have been working on two very different projects since that time. Iffy Eats Monsters for Breakfast will be my first middle grade story. It is a spinoff from the Infernal Fall Series. I’ll talk more about that at another time. The other story I’ve worked on is Melodiel’s Rhapsody which is a short story to be included in the Allies of Majesty Chronicles Vol 1.

I’ve never worked on a story quite like this one. Allies of Majesty is an RPG where angels and demons are at war in the unseen realm. There are a line of other authors included for this anthology, and the artwork looks amazing. So check it out if you like, and although the Kickstarter campaign is over, you can still support it if you want. Click the image below to view it if you want more details.

About Melodiel’s Rhapsody… The title came before the story did. In the line of angels and demons, you have warriors, minstrels, and ministers, which could be a mix of two or even three. I thought a warrior-minstrel could prove interesting. So I created the character Melodiel, who is named after melody. He’s a leader of two other warriors in this short story, Urimiel and Sersimi. I have no idea how I came up with their names, but I’ve grown to appreciate them.

The story takes place in an unnamed town in Appalachia, and a lot is going on. My initial thought was to compose the entire story as a song, and while I do have some music in here, this is, for the most part, a story written in prose. It took some time to fit the story within the bounds of the Allies of Majesty world, but with some great collaboration with Anthony Diastello, it came together quite nicely. He was even nice enough to let me break some rules, which is great because I’m a habitual rulebreaker at heart. And while it may be a short story, there are chills, thrills, comedy, and a lot of adventure in this thing.

The plan is to release this book in time for Realm Makers 2025, which is in July. At the time of writing this, it’s only two months away. I wish him well on that. Although I’m finished with this particular story, I will be cheering for PureFun Media to get this book ready in time. I’ll let you know when it debuts, and when I have permission to share an excerpt from the story, I’ll update this post.

The post The Allies of Majesty Chronicles Vol 1: Melodiel’s Rhapsody appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

Pretty Little Kitty Kitties

Pretty Little Kitty Kitties are one of my favorite things.
When they meow they are trying to sing.
Do you like pretty little kitty kitties as much as I do?
Golly Gee, I sure hope so.
A big big rainbow goes over my house, way way over my house
When a pretty little kitty kitty chases a mouse, a little little mouse.
That’s why I will have plenty of yarn and cheese
So that my pretty little kitty kitties are happy little kitty kitties.

Super Mario Bros

Super Mario Brothers are one of my favorite things.
They hit their head on bricks while running.
Do you like Super Mario Brothers as much as I do?
Golly Gee, I sure hope so.
A firepower flower pops out of a block, a questionable block.
Super Mario brothers throw fiery rocks, fireball rocks!
That’s why I eat plenty of spaghetti and meatballs
So Mario and Luigi can save the princess.

Billy’s Blanket

Billy’s blanket is one of my favorite things.
He got it as a gift from a friend named Audrey.
Do you like Billy’s blanket as much as I do?
Golly Gee, I sure doubt so.
Billy holds his blanket like Linus holds his.
Yeah, sure, I want it, but it is what it is.
That’s why my air conditioner has frozen over,
Because when Billy happens by the blanket is remembered.

Reruns on TV

Reruns on TV are one of my favorite things.
I watch them over and over. It’s never-ending.
Do you like reruns on TV as much as I do?
Golly Gee, it’s either that or some game show.
Reliving scenes with characters we know.
Suffering through commercials while holding the remote.
Laugh tracks and theme songs are catchy and amusing.
I can’t help but smile, even while I’m drooling.

Pink and Purple Hair

Pink and purple hair is one of my favorite things.
It kind of looks like stringy cotton candy.
Do you like pink and purple hair as much as I do?
Golly Gee, it’s nice but gets caught in your throat.
Grape juice and lemonade have more sugar than I can handle
Hair sure does stink when you singe it with a candle.
That’s why it’s better not to set your hair on fire,
But if you do, buy a wig and consider the colors I admire.

Awkward Goodbyes

Awkward Goodbyes are one of my favorite things.
The conversation ends but no one can leave.
Do you like Awkward Goodbyes as much as I do?
Golly Gee won’t you look at the time,
I gotta get going but it was nice chatting.
Maybe another day or whatever, we can chill.
Brrr… Ha! Ha! Get it? Funny right? Anyway—Bye!?

Staring Deep into the Void of Space

Staring deep into the void of space is one of my favorite things.
I walked into a room but forgot why—how strange.
Do you like staring deep into the void of space as much as I do?
Golly Gee… What were we talking about?
Sorry, I zoned out there for a moment or two
I was thinking about something but don’t ask what. I have no clue.
It mustn’t have been too important, otherwise I’d remember.
But somewhere in the night sky, my ideas drift like embers.

The post My Favorite Things appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

Reruns on TV are one of my favorite things.
I watch them over and over. It’s never-ending.
Do you like reruns on TV as much as I do?
Golly Gee, it’s either that or some game show.
Reliving scenes with characters we know.
Suffering through commercials while holding the remote.
Laugh tracks and theme songs are catchy and amusing.
I can’t help but smile, even while I’m drooling.

The post Reruns on TV appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.