Strange Dreams are Made of These

This is what happens when you mix reading The Last Smile in Sunder City by Luke Arnold, a Marvel movie, and an ear infection.

The following contains some spoilers for the book by Luke Arnold.

It was a very strange dream. I dreamt that I was part of the human army in Luke Arnold’s book, but we were all brainwashed and put into Ultron-Sentinel hybrid robot armor/bodies. Instead of fighting magical creatures like in the book, we had to fight superhumans like the X-Men, the Avengers, Batman, the Ninja Turtles, the Ghostbusters, and others.

At one point my Sentinel helmet was destroyed by one of the heroes which exposed my face. At this point, I started to wake from the brainwashing and realize how stupid it was for the “monster hunters” to make anything with pieces from Ultron; he could remain inside those pieces, which is what he did; and near the end of the dream, Ultron activated his plan and started to put the hybrid-human-controlled robots under his control. 

It was then that I thought, “Not another Ultron taking over the world plot. Groan,” and I woke up.

Until next wormhole…thanks for reading.

Please consider liking, sharing, and following! Thank you!

The Hottest Toy of Christmas | Writing Warm-Up (ft. A FNAF Fanfiction)

The following is a Five Nights at Freddy’s fanfiction. I do not own any rights to the characters. Please consider supporting Scott Cawthon and the games. The jingle tune is similar to one used by MatPat in his FNAF videos.

It’s fun; it’s wow; it’ll haunt your dreams. It’s Nightmare Freddy.

Yes, Nightmare Freddy, the toy on every Crying Child’s Christmas list. Whether they’ve been bitten by a rouge animatronic or have had their soul scooped out so a combination of robots can wear their body like a meat suit, your child will absolutely love this new toy from Fazbear Entertainment. 

Nightmare Freddy comes with everything a parent could want in a child’s toy: sharp claws, jaw bite strength equal to a bear trap, and lots of pieces that’ll fall off causing various choking hazards.

Nightmare Freddy also comes with a nighttime feature where he’ll roam the halls stalking your child.

That’s Nightmare Freddy from the same people who brought you the family-friendly Sexy Chica doll.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

Smashwords End of Year Sale Dec. 18-Jan. 1

Chapter 16.5 | Writing Warm-Up (ft. A Hermitcraft x The Mandalorian Fanfiction)

The following is a fanfiction of events in the Hermitcraft series on YouTube and the Disney Plus series The Mandalorian. Please consider showing your support for both by checking out their respective channels or episodes (if possible). The parody names also come from the comments section of their videos.

Note: This was written before the outcome of the Turf War.

See, this is what happens when writers procrastinate writing their own stuff.

Title image for The Scaralorian Fanfiction

Chapter 16.5 The Player Head

Fearing that he would lose the Turf War and never see the glorious return of the Mycelium Resistance, Moff Grian abducted Scar’s Baby Yoda player head. Soon after its abduction, the Scaralorian traveled to Moff Grian’s upside down base in the Nether to discuss terms of release.

“I will give you the Player Head,” said Moff Grian with a wicked smile, “if you’ll build the back of my mansion.”

The terms were unfortunately too high and too impossible for Scar, and he had to leave empty-handed. But, he still had a plan.

The Scaralorian traveled across the server to recruit Bdubs and Cub for an assault on the Mycelium Resistance HQ. Though it looked like a Smurf home, the base was far more deadly thanks to modifications done by Doc.

Once united, the trio recruited Mumbo Jumbo so they could use his flying machine the Redstone I. As Mumbo finished prepping his flying machine, Scar polished his netherite armor and sharpened his netherite sword.

“How are you going to clean your helmet?” asked Bdubs. “You never take it off.”

The Scaralorian simply sighed. 

Soon, they were on their way. The Redstone I slowly inched its way to the mushroom-like base.

“Punch it,” said Scar.

“This is Minecraft,” said Mumbo. “This is as fast as it goes.”

Scar sighed once again.

Two hours later, the raiders arrived at the base. As they drew closer Doc’s security system activated. TNT canons shot at the Redstone I

“I’ll go ahead,” said the Scaralorian. “I’ll draw their fire while you make your way there.”

Scar switched out his netherite chest plate for an elytra. Scar leapt from the flying machine and blasted towards the base using a supply of rockets. The Scaralorian expertly dodged the canon fire. Flashes of light exploded around him as the air grew thick with the smell of gunpower. Finally, the air became less turbulent as Scar ducked down into the area under the canon’s range. He landed with a soft thud at the foot of the base. He ignored the nearby button; he wasn’t Moff Grian after all.

About twenty minutes later, the Redstone I arrived. Mumbo hacked the front door thanks to his knowledge of piston doors. However, the group was met by a mob of zombie troopers. The place quickly became a mess of swords, arrows, and rotten flesh…but the zombie troopers kept coming.

“We’re about to be overran,” said Cub in a panic.

Fortunately, Bdubs packed his bed. He placed down the bed and went to sleep. The time changed to day and the zombies caught fire in the sunlight.

With the way clear, the four hermits entered the base. Sitting atop a massive wooden throne was Moff Grian. A parrot with a nametag of Pesky Bird perched on the left armrest. Three dark hermit troopers stood at his side. Impulse, Rendog, and Etho waited wearing Bdubs player heads.

“Why am I here again?” asked Impulse.

“Shh,” said Moff Grian, “you’re not supposed to talk.” He then cleared his throat and faced the Scaralorian and his friends. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you made it this far, Scaralorian, but this is as far as you and your motley grew go…unless you agree to my terms and build the back of my mansion.” Scar stared at Moff Grian without saying a word. “Are…are you narrowing your eyes menacingly? It’s hard to tell with that helmet in the way.” Scar pulled his netherite sword. “Ah, I see that is your answer then.”

With a nod from Moff Grian, the three dark hermit troopers drew their diamond swords. Bdubs, Cub, and Mumbo equipped their iron swords.

“Hermit Challenges!” yelled Mumbo before charging at the nearest foe, who happened to be Etho.

Bdubs and Cub soon followed. The room filled with grunts and clangs as Scar approached Moff Grian. The Scaralorian sliced at Moff Grian with his netherite sword. At the last second, Moff Grian deflected the blow with his own netherite sword; however, it glowed with enchantments.

“Ha!” laughed the Resistance Mother Spore. “Didn’t think I had one of these, did you?”

Moff Grian struck at Scar. Scar blocked it. The two fought, striking and blocking. The swords clashed in bursts of iconic buzzing and crackling sounds. Finally, Scar won the upper-hand and knocked Moff Grian to the floor. 

“Where is Baby Yoda?” demanded Scar.

“He’s over there,” pointed Moff Grian.

Scar turned only for a moment, but that was enough time for Moff Grian to equip his elytra. “You will never find the Player Head!” Moff Grian blasted off using rockets and shot through a hole in the base’s ceiling. A moment later, Scar rocketed after him.

The three dark hermit troopers and the three allies of the Scaralorian stopped fighting once Moff Grian and Scar left. 

Cub faced Impulse; Rendog stared down Bdubs; and Etho met eyes with Mumbo.

“Wanna grab some cake while we wait this out?” asked Etho.

“Yeah, sure,” said everyone.

Moff Grian soared over the shopping district with the Scaralorian in hot pursuit. The two danced around buildings and shot down alleyways. They weaved through small openings and rocketed passed a couple of shopping hermits who nearly fell over in the wake of the flyers.

“Ha! Ha!” said Moff Grian. He took a moment to glance backwards in order to better mock Scar. “You’re only second to my flying skills!” He returned his attention to the sky before him only to see a ring from his Turf War mini-game a moment before impact.

“Moff Grian died from terminal karma,” reported the chat.

Moff Grian’s inventory exploded outwards, including the Baby Yoda player head. The items and player head tumbled towards the ground like little meteors. Scar dived towards the helpless Minecraft item block. He hoped his elytra would hold together as he picked up speed. The ground grew closer and closer.

Finally, he retrieved Baby Yoda. He pulled up and soon they were safely back in the air.

The Scaralorian and Baby Yoda returned to the Mycelium base and the Redstone I. Scar thanked Bdubs, Cub, and Mumbo with three diamond blocks each. Then with Baby Yoda in his off-hand, Scar turned and walked into the sunset.

“You know,” said Bdubs, “if we were accurate to the season finale of The Mandalorian, we would have–“

“Hey!” said Impulse. “No spoilers!”

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

Please consider liking and sharing!

Bdubs’ footsteps echoed off the walls of Mumbo Jumbo’s mega-base. Finally, after nearly getting lost, he found Mumbo Jumbo at a lectern. 

“What’cha doing?” asked Bdubs.

“Writing a book,” said Mumbo, finally turning around.

“A book?” said Bdubs. “A Book of Mumbo Jumbo? What’s that about?”

Golden Freddy’s Vengeance | Writing Warm-Up (ft. A FNAF Fanfiction)

The following is a Five Nights at Freddy’s fanfiction. I do not own any rights to the characters. Please consider supporting Scott Cawthon and the games.

Hi there, it’s me, Security Guard #28. After a hard night of surviving attacks from wonky animatronics possessed by murdered children, I like to sit down with a relaxing cup of Golden Freddy’s Vengeance. It’s just the thing I need to get back out there AND NEVER REST! Thanks to Golden Freddy’s Vengeance, I can keep coming back over and over and over…

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

Click to see how you can purchase books or help support me.

Be the Salt | Writing Warm-Up

Are you a MyVideo creator who’s tried everything and still can’t get any views?

Try Blue Light Technologies’ Box O’ Salt. Take a teaspoon 15 minutes before your next recording session and BAM you’re the saltiest person on the server. Watch those views pour in as the salt rains down upon you. 

Not intended for use by non-gamers. Does not guarantee an increase in viewer count. Side effects include: rage quitting, broken controllers, loss of subscribers, hate comments, and dislikes. 

Box O’ Salt, pick it up at your local BLT store and become the Salt you were always mean to be.

Copyright 2020 Joe Rover. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

The Secret Origins of La-Zar | Writing Warm-Up

The origins of La-Zar, an alien ninja marksmen and member of the International League of Super-Transbeings. La-Zar’s costume completely covers their body, so it is impossible to tell if they are male, female, or something else. The ILOST members use male and female pronouns trying to get a reaction out of La-Zar; it never works, so they call La-Zar male or female interchangeably.

La-Zar was trained to be a bounty hunter ninja by the Whispering Monks on Mount Silence on Planet Bob. Technically since it was on Planet Bob, the monks were called the Bobbing Bobs who resided on Bob Bob, but that name annoyed everyone else in the galaxy, so they were called the Whispering Monks of Mount Silence because they hadn’t spoken a word in over 2,000 years. Not that anyone cared because if they did speak it’d only be “Bob,” or maybe an occasional, “Bobby.”

The bobs (people) of Planet Bob were born with three eyes, but the third eye remained closed. Only through mediation and adherence to the commandments of their god, Jeff (go figure), would the eye open. Once accomplished, the bob reached their full potential.

According to their religion’s origin, one day a bob was able to say the word “Jeff.” The other bobs took it as a sign and decided “Jeff” was a sacred word spoken only by the chosen ones of Jeff.

The Whispering Monk ninjas teach their acolytes not to speak because if they did then everyone would know they came from Planet Bob which defeated the purpose of being a secretive ninja.

Hmm, maybe that’s why La-Zar never speaks. Maybe he/she is really a Bobby. Though some believe La-Zar came from the planet Australia. The rumor is that a gang of kola bears killed his/her parents. She/he wandered the desert plains until the kangaroo pirates found her/him. He/she joined the pirates until he/she learned of the Whispering Monks. La-Zar believed the Monks could teach him/her how to get revenge on the kolas that killed his/her parents.

After graduating, La-Zar received her/his first assignment. He was to kill Baron Hawk. The assignment and pay came from the ruling class of the planet Crunch.

La-Zar tracked her prey to Earth where she learned that Baron Hawk was an ILOST alpha. The rulers of Crunch wanted him dead because he inspired the 99 percent to revolt against the one percent. The rulers were losing the civil war and wanted vengeance while they still had the resources to do so.

La-Zar was unable to complete the mission. This resulted in La-Zar being exiled form the Whispering Monks. Fortunately, Baron Hawk knew of La-Zar’s existence and saw his potential. He offered him a place among the International League of Super-Transbeings heroes.

Copyright 2020 Joe Rover. All rights reserved.

Until next time…thanks for reading.

Smashwords End of Year Sale Dec. 18-Jan. 1

From the Secret Files of Agent Zee | Writing Warm-Up

Agent Zee, a Russian secret agent turned into a zombie via a super-solider project gone wrong, is tasked with rescuing a kidnapped celebrity musician. The musician is also an amateur sleuth who got too close to the mystery behind the Art Heist of 1989. During the summer of ’89, two unknown thieves stole millions of dollars’ worth in artwork donated to the United States by the Russian government as an act of goodwill. The two thieves were last seen in Florida just before a category four hurricane hit the state.

Soon after arriving at the warehouse where the kidnappers held the musician, Zee spotted three of the ’89 paintings. His gasp altered the kidnappers to his presence; they then shot him in the head. Even though Zee is a zombie, the headshot did not kill him but merely stunned him. While stunned, memories of his life from before his transformation flooded his mind.

Soviet Russia, late 1970s/early 1980s…

The elegant bathroom sparkled like diamonds. The lights reflecting off the smooth surfaces and fancy, glass tables caused an almost blinding effect. The band played a mid-tempo song for the dancers. Agent [REDACTED] entered the hall looking dapper in his tux, tails, and cummerbund. (Just to make things simpler we’ll continue to call him Agent Zee or Zee; his real name has been classified.)

“Agent Zee,” said a soft voice that sounded like it belonged to some noir movie femme fatale.

Zee tore his attention away from the swaying dancers and socializers. His eyes widened in awe of the stunning woman with ear-length black hair that looked like it was treated daily by a skilled beautician. Her short-sleeve dress fit her well. Her necklace and earrings complimented her almost neon green eyes.

“Monica,” said Zee.

She touched his still human skin. The touch brought memories of their time in Peru hunting down a rouge doctor. Intel told that the man wanted to harvest a rare flower that could bring the dead to life. Turned out he was a she, and she was working for a group known only as the Clay Men.

“What are you doing here?” asked Zee.

“Most likely the same as you,” she said making sure her British accent was noticeable. Monica worked with British intelligence. The two met on a mission in Paris. Each were there to sabotage the goals of the other—so much time had passed Zee could not remember what the goals were. The two spent weeks “getting” the other. It was like watching two kids during a prank war. Zee would foil her plans and then she would snare him in a trap. Eventually, the two realized both were after the same thing, which was also about the time they realized they’d fallen for each other. “Cooperation is far better than failure,” Monica said that day.

Zee hoped that Monica was not here now dealing with the same trouble he was…it could jeopardize the mission; or worse, they could be on opposite sides.

The band changed to a slower song. Monica took Zee’s hand in hers. Soon, the two were moving in time to the music, all thoughts of missions and possible betrayal out of their minds. Zee’s instincts screamed, “Distractions get you killed!” but he didn’t listen. He couldn’t.

The other dancers faded from Zee’s vision as everything became her. He placed his arms around her. She took a long inhale of his smell. Some part of Zee knew that she was supposed to smell his decaying, undead corpse. He looked into her eyes. Maybe…maybe it was the talisman. Agent Zee always wore a talisman around his neck that blocked his zombie smell.

What zombie smell? He wasn’t a zombie; he was human. Wasn’t he? Monica’s eyes and lips made his head feel fuzzy.

The two swayed and twirled to the hypnotic music. Monica looked into Zee’s eyes. Could she see his milky, dead eyes? No, she couldn’t; he wasn’t a zombie yet. But, how could he be alive? He’d been shot…hadn’t he?

Zee’s head swam as if he’d been drinking all night.

Monica placed a finger to his lips. “Shhh…” she said. Tears formed along the edges of her eyes. As the two moved, she sang in time to the music.

Don’t be alarmed.

Don’t be afraid.

Don’t be ashamed.

What happened is fate.

I love you,

My hope.

My better tomorrow.

She stepped back from Zee then held out her hand. Something was wrong. The dizziness increased. Was that blood he felt leisurely strolling down his cheek? How could that be? He has no blood. No, no, he has blood; he’s human…that thing was a nightmare. He’s not a monster. He did not defect to the Americans. The lies, secrets, and abuse from Russia had been propaganda. It was the Americans who created the vile experiments on his comrades.

Comrades…he hadn’t used that term in a long time. They couldn’t trust a turncoat spy. Or could they? The International League of Super-Transbeings welcomed him…even though he was undead and a traitor.

Monica continued to sing in time to the music.

Take my hand.

This is not the end.

My love is forever.

You’ll understand.

Now is your destiny.

My love remains.

The room started to spin. Zee felt short on breath. Was he dying? Could he die? Pulsing veins of dark light tugged at his eyes. At first, Zee thought he was simply feeling the excitement and joy of seeing a loved one again; but no, it was the drugs. Zee never saw her inject him.

Don’t be alarmed.

Don’t be afraid.

This is meant to be.

Take my hand.

This is not the end.

Now is your destiny.

My love remains.

Nothingness soon followed.


When Zee finally opened his eyes, he was once more in the laboratory of Dr. Trimble, the man who began his transformation into a zombie. Zee tested the chair’s restraints and found them not lacking in the least.

The Russian government, or at least the part working with the Xacians, ran may experiments and projects during the Cold War. The Xacians wanted the perfect soldier so they could rule this universe and one day every reality. The Russians wanted a perfect solider so they could beat the Americans. Ironically, the Xacians were also working with the Americans.

Zee was the Project [REDACTED] prototype. As you can guess, it didn’t go quite as expected.

After the first treatment, Zee discovered the real intent of the Xacians. He reported it to his supervisors; they already knew.

“Why are we not fighting them?” asked Zee.

“We don’t care,” said a general. “Our main purpose is to destroy the United States; once that is accomplished, we will deal with these invaders.”

And it wasn’t just the alien invaders the supervisors didn’t care about; it was the volunteers. Some of the men in charge didn’t care about Russia; they believed with the United States destroyed, the other nations would fall into line.

Agent Zee fled.

Now years later, Zee learned of Trimble’s latest plan. He created enhanced super-locusts; he planned to unleash them upon the world’s crops. Once there was no food, the populace would come to him, and by extension the Xacians.

Zee soon located Monica standing behind a nearby desk. Her eyes were cast to the floor. Just as Zee feared, Monica was with Dr. Trimble. Members of the British government wanted the locusts to attack the US and weaken it. They were still mad about the Revolutionary War and were easily seduced by the Xacians. The rogue officials believed that once the US surrendered its independence, the other ex-British colonies would do the same.

Zee nearly spat venom at Dr. Trimble. “Was there ever a locust plot or was this merely a lure to finish my treatments?”

“Of course, there was; I am a genius,” said Trimble. “I can multitask.” Trimble leaned closer to the electric chair-like machine which imprisoned Zee. “You will be the first in a new line of soldier: quick, strong, loyal, and indestructible. You will never hunger or thirst. You’ll never need to sleep.”

Dr. Trimble was right on a few things. Zee is virtually indestructible even to the point where he can operate his severed limbs; he is slightly stronger than the average person; and he can be quick when he wants. He’s also an excellent digger.

As for the “loyal” bit…just wait.

“Once the transformation is complete,” said Trimble, “you will lead the locusts across the world. All will bow to me!”

“Except for the UK, right?” said Monica.

An evil glint appeared in the eyes of Dr. Trimble. “What part of ‘all will bow to me’ did you not understand?”

“But we agreed!”

Dr. Trimble laughed. “Foolish woman!” He reached for the machine’s lever. It would begin the process. Monica grabbed Trimble’s wrist. “Vile child!” He slapped Monica; she let out a yelp and stumbled. “I’ll teach you to betray me!” He slapped her again. She stumbled again and fell against the table; she went silent.

“You psychotic slime!” shouted Zee. His face turned red, the last time his skin would have any color. He strained against the bonds.

Trimble reached for the lever. “Don’t worry, my child, in a moment you won’t care…about anything.”

The lever was pulled. Multicolored lightning coursed through Zee’s mortal frame. Liquid fire, which looked similar to the northern lights, flooded his DNA and mind. It felt like an eternity, but it was only a couple seconds.

Once the device was off, Zee’s head dropped. Trimble approached the chair confidently and unhooked the restraints. “Rise, my creation,” he said.

Zee stood, but it was reminiscent to watching a marionette stand.

“Look at me, my darling slave.”

Heh-heh, Zee looked at him all right. Trimble reeled backwards, arms pinwheeling. Zee’s face was decayed. You could see bits of bone and muscle along his cheeks and mouth. His skin was pale. And boy, did he smell. Zee spoke gibberish as he reached towards Dr. Trimble.

“This is not right,” said Trimble. “You are supposed to be a mindless slave—obedient to me alone!”

Zee inched closer to the slowly retreating doctor; he mumbled something again before clearly saying, “Monica,” in a half-dead voice. Then in a flash of speed, Zee had the doctor on the ground. It’s unclear if he attacked the doctor out of revenge for hurting Monica or simply because Zee was a mindless zombie.

I, ahem, think you can figure out what happened next.

“Braaaains,” said Zee.

So, let’s fast-forward to after the Trimble appetizer and even past the part where Zee returned to the party…still hungry. Luckily, the party was for some not nice people who wanted to purchase the mad scientist’s toys.

It wasn’t until the drug cartel dessert platter that Zee realized his wits were returning. The all-you-can-eat brain buffet changed him from a slow, mindless zombie into a slow, super-spy zombie.

With his previous intelligence restored—and the collective knowledge of some of the worst people on the planet—he returned to the laboratory. He found no sign of Monica or any sign of the genetically altered locusts.

Copyright 2020 Joe Rover. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

Smashwords End of Year Sale Dec. 18-Jan. 1

Little Red Designer Hoodie | Writing Warm-Up

Just for fun.

If you want to do your own warm-up, try making a fairy tale or other legend more modern.

Once upon a time, there lived a little girl who always wore a red designer hoodie. One day, her mother asked her to take a basket full of gift cards to her grandmother’s house. The gift cards were so the grandmother could feed her Candy Crush addiction through micro-transactions.

Happy to help, the little girl took the basket of digital goodies and journeyed deep into the forest. It was not long before a strange wolf-man dressed in black and wearing dark sunglasses popped up before her.

He wanted to know where she was going and what she had in the basket. Even though her mother warned her about the big, bad scammer who lived in the forest, the little girl in the red hoodie still gave him her information.

“I’m taking this basket of gift cards to my grandmother who lives just outside these woods on Eastbrooke Road,” she said.

“I can come with you, My Dear,” said the sly wolf. “These woods are much too dangerous for a young girl such as you.”

Being a strong, independent young woman, she replied, “No thanks. I’ve got this.” She than left the scheming, scamming wolf and continued her trek with a joyful song in her heart.

But the wolf would not be deterred so easily. He knew of a shortcut to the old woman’s house. He soon arrived at the modest cottage. Once he arrived, he did the most horrible thing imaginable: he cut off her Wi-Fi. When she went to her closet to reset the router, he locked the door behind her. He then proceeded to steal her identity by dressing in her nightgown and hopping into her bed.

The cunning wolf welcomed Little Red Designer Hoodie when she arrived.

“My, Grandma, what slender fingers you have,” said the innocent girl.

“All the better to text message you with, My Dear.”

“My, what fancy sunglasses you have.”

“All the better to block out screen glare, My Dear.”

“My, what large and pointy ears you have, Grandma.”

“All the better to hear my YouTube notifications with, My Dear.”

Finally, the sweet girl seemed to realize something was amiss. She gulped before saying, “My…what big…teeth you have.”

“All the better to devour you and steal your identity with!”

The wolf then leapt out of the bed preparing to attack the helpless child. Suddenly, a white hat hacker broke through the front door. With a mighty click of his wireless headset, the heroic hacker derezzed the villainous wolf.

With the online predator defeated and the grandmother’s Internet access restored, they all lived happily…until the EMP attack of 2023 that shutdown all electronics.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

The Smashwords End of Year Sale begins Dec. 18

From Dec. 18-Jan. 1 many of my eBooks will be 50%-100% off!

Getting Organized | Behind the Scenes

You’ll probably call me crazy for how I organize my day, but it works for me. Maybe it’ll work for other creatives.

I’ve set up my schedule/To Do list similar to the format of a TV show.

First is the teaser. During this short period of time (shorter than the other segments) I do the responsibilities/goals that are short or warm-up the day; such as, check email or get on Twitter. It can also be things like read a comic strip. It doesn’t have to be hardcore responsibilities like paying your bills, unless you want it to be. This is the time to get pumped for the day.

Second is the first act or beginning. It is the start of the episode or the normal day moment of the show. These are the day’s duties that aren’t your favorite but also not your least favorite; you’re just kind of meh about them. This is the time period when the protagonist is going about their normal life before the conflict begins.

Next, you take a short “commercial break.” You take a few minutes to do something fun, like read one chapter of a story or take some pictures for 15 minutes. Up to you.

Now it’s on to the second act or middle. This is when the episode takes off. The trials and obstacles get in the protagonist’s way. This is when you do the stuff you don’t like–pay bills, chores, etc.

It’s time for another break. Take another few minutes to do something enjoyable.

On to the third act or ending. This is when the climax hits and everything comes together. This is when the protagonist wins! So here is where you do the longer fun stuff; such as, play a video game, watch a movie, paint a picture, etc.

Finally, the credits. The episode is over; the protagonist has reached their happy ending. Now, you wrap up the day. Do whatever it is so you feel victorious about the day: drink some tea, take a walk, get a list ready for the next day, whatever.

Another thing I do is I have each month be a TV season. I plan for a bigger chore or goal, like cleaning out the garage or getting my book edited, as the “big bad.” It is the antagonist that is behind it all. This goal is something you know won’t be solved within a few days. Setting this “season” allows me to set a deadline on my goal. I can work on the big bad over the course of the month bit by bit instead of trying to do it all at once.

Also, I look at my chores not as this boring thing I have to do but as the forces (or episode’s antagonist) that is trying to stop me from reaching my goals. I do not have to do the laundry…it is the vile Laundromat who is stopping me from spending time with my family and must be stopped.

About midway through the month I have the mid-season finale. For a little bit of time, a couple of hours or a day at most, I take the time off. I relax and think of (or do) something else. Then it’s back to work. Near the end of the month, I have a season finale; I take a little more time off then the mid-season finale, such as a couple days. By taking time off I don’t necessarily mean I don’t go to work. I don’t do the things that can wait a moment; such as doing the dishes or dusting.

Don’t worry about not beating the antagonist by the end of the episode…that’s what part 2’s are for. And don’t worry about not completely reaching your season goal…villains always return. Mwa-hahahahaha!!

How do you organize your day? Let me know in the comments.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!

Dino Mall | Behind the Scenes

I had a silly and crazy dream. It starred this couple who were close to divorce. They accidently uncovered that their local mall has cloned extinct animals, such as dinosaurs, so they can operate the mall. The extinct animals make the food and maintain the building, among other chores.

Over time the couple learns that the owners, also a husband and wife duo, have cloned some cavemen/cavewomen to run things like the stores and food court thus kicking out the ones who used to work at the mall. They also replaced the mall cops with their own tougher security guards.

The dream ended with an epic battle between modern animals, like tigers and elephants, versus the extinct animals, like saber-tooth tigers and wooly mammoths. There are also teens in food vendor and department store uniforms battling the cave-workers. The mall cops were also there battling the security guards. The hero husband and wife took on the mall owners.

I woke up about the time the two forces collided.

“What on Earth did I eat before bed to get that dream?” I thought. I think it came from a mixture of watching the “The Golden Years” episode of The Commish on IMBd TV and the Jurassic Park dub video by How It Should Have Ended.

However, that being said, I am working on refining the dream into an upcoming story.

Who do you think would win in a fight between a tiger and a saber-tooth tiger? Let me know in the comments section.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

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