Bryan Timothy Mitchell's Blog

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.

Love Letters Nearly Turned Me Into A Supervillain

Today, I want to tell a true story, which will give you insight into who I am. It may totally change how you perceive me, for better or worse, and I may create a series of true stories about me, depending on how it goes, but allow me to move on with this particular little diddy.

When I was in the second grade, four boys bullied me. By “bullied” I mean they beat me up. Usually, it was on the playground. I had to learn to stay where the teacher could see me. That was all I could do at eight years old. The teacher didn’t help me. She was the meanest teacher I ever had (more on that later). If I told her, I would get in trouble. This school had a funny definition of what tattling was. If you told on anybody for anything, you got in trouble.

Now if you feel sorry for me, don’t, because what I did to get back at those kids was one of the most sinister things I’ve ever done. It was clever, but I don’t condone my brilliantly wicked scheme that undoubtedly scarred these poor bullies for a time. Here’s the thing. While I had a couple of friends, I knew I couldn’t tell them what I was going to do. I was pretty friendly with the girls, too. We didn’t chat or hang out, but they didn’t mind me. None of them picked on me from what I remember. They stuck to themselves and loathed the boys who bullied me. They knew I was getting beaten up but didn’t tell because tattling got you in trouble. I honestly can’t remember if any of the girls tried to help me, but I knew that an enemy of my enemy could be an ally.

What I thought up, which was diabolical, couldn’t be known by anyone other than me. As I had mentioned before, this was a lone-wolf operation and it all started with me learning how they wrote. You can probably see where this is headed, considering the title of the post. It wasn’t hard to get samples of their writing, everyone usually threw away their classwork. These bullies didn’t write well. All I had to do was misspell words, leave out punctuation, turn some letters backward, and voila. I’ve crafted work that looked exactly like theirs. As far as how I voiced the letters, it didn’t matter as long as it sounded robotic. My name is Bryan. I like apples. Apples start with the letter A. Do you like apples… Easy peasy.

So at home and sometimes at school, when I had finished with an activity ahead of others, I wrote love letters from the bullies to girls, who again despised them. I planted these letters where the girls or the teacher would find them. When the girls found these letters, they hated the boys so much that they gave them to the teacher. I had figured that they wouldn’t be reprimanded because they didn’t want love letters from these boys. They hated them. I also had figured that the teacher, as mean as she was, would direct her rage at the one who she believed had written the letters. Remember when I said this teacher was the meanest I ever had? I wasn’t exaggerating. (Near the end of the school year, I snuck a recorder into class and taped how she screamed at us. I shared it with my mom, who referenced her shock many times, even decades later). Sometimes we cried as a class because of the teacher and it seemed she took some kind of pleasure out of it. So imagine her rage when she learned a boy had written a love letter to a girl in her class. (She lost her everlasting mind.)

Whatever we were doing when the letter came to the attention of the teacher was no longer a matter. After she read the poorly written note where the bully seemed to profess his love for a girl who hated him and he most likely hated in return, she went ballistic. A shouting match between the teacher and the innocent boy captivated all within earshot, and, as entertaining as it was, it was equally disturbing.

Yes, I did one letter at a time. Four letters at once would’ve blown my cover. But for each of them, the outcome was the same. They stood up to the mean teacher and said things that got them into real trouble. Sure, they ended up on the playground bench and had silent lunch for a while, but that and the humiliation was only part of the hell they had to endure. Who knows what they had to deal with when they saw the principal? I’m sure their parents may have been called, too. Now that I think about it, these bullies probably wondered who wrote these letters. If they ever thought it was me, they never said so. Most likely, they thought the girls hated them so much that they wrote it to get them in trouble. Good luck selling that to the meanest teacher ever or even to Aunt Selma, who keeps telling you and anybody else who’d listen, “You’re in love, so stop actin’ like you don’t have a little girlfriend back in school.”

Before the teacher discovered a second letter, I was already satisfied with the outcome. I had started with the meanest bully first, but I wanted to get them all back. I waited a week or two before planting it. Even as a child, I knew not to do this in one day or even a week. I can’t remember if it was the second or the third boy who snatched the letter from the teacher’s hand and threw it at her, but I do know that I felt bad for him. Even thought about stopping, but I would not, which nearly ended disastrously for me.

I remember writing the fourth and final letter. It had been weeks since I dropped the first one. It was time to finish it and fulfill my revenge. I wrote it, mimicking the bully’s handwriting. Of course, all the letters were written differently. Simply but differently. We were working at our desks. The love interest in this letter sat close to me. While she was with the teacher, I leaned over and shoved the final letter inside her desk. But there was a problem. Her other neighbor, another girl, saw me do it. She reached in and took it out. I watched her read it. Horror coursed through me. If she told the teacher, it would be known that I was the writer of all the letters. When she looked at me, she mouthed the words, “It was you.”

I can’t remember what I said. I may not have said anything. But I do know that I pleaded with her. Hands folded as if in prayer, begging for her silence. If the teacher found out, I would be in a world of the most unrefined stench. Ironically enough, it would’ve been justice. But like I said before, snitches weren’t honored at that school, and the girls weren’t friends with the bullies nor did they receive a verbal lashing on account of those letters. They didn’t ask for those letters. So, she gave me the letter back and said, “Don’t do it again.” And I didn’t.

I let it go. The last guy, the last bully, was spared. But for the rest of that year and even the year after, I avoided these kids by staying in view of the teachers. I went where they couldn’t bother me. While I found satisfaction in having them humiliated and scorned in the classroom, I knew what I had done was wrong—brilliant, but wrong. Had not that girl found me out, I’m sure I would’ve grown into a real-life supervillain. I know this because deep down a part of me is still willing to write the letter and plant it so that the last bully can face the wrath of the meanest teacher I had ever known. It may have gone something like this:

Hi Manby I see you qlay on d jum rooq I can jum rooq reel gud I like you vere mush you r my girfend but don tell we keep it a cekrit
luv
Tommy

I know. I’m horrible. Don’t tell though, please!

The post Love Letters Nearly Made Me A Supervillain appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

The Whipple Snipple Thingy has gone awry in the haywire patch community causing much dismay among the haywire patch people, who are heavily known for going about their business daily without getting splinters or stepping on small Legos, which is the worst. However, peace and stability have been jeopardized (yeah, I spelled it right) now that the Whipple Snipple Thingy has entered their domain. It has caused terror beyond all human prepositions, whoops, I mean contradictions—that’s not it either—hmmm. Contraception? Magnification? Obviously not. Oh yes! Beyond all human comprehension, which also rhymes with tension and kinda with kitchen. Either way, I digress; the unspeakable horror of the Whipple Snipple Thingy (which may be indescribable but writeable as you can see) has the haywire patch people calling for local (although they would settle for loco as well) farmers to bale them out. See what I did there?

“My gudnuss,” said one fairly strange person from the haywire patch community. “I wen tu put on muh shoe buh dey dun gone off sum wer.” While this may seem like little cookies to some, maybe most, oh who am I kidding—everyone who ever existed, it is important to know that according to haywire patch people traditions, shoes must be tied in the mornings to prevent widespread panic, besides this is a situation and most certainly not any kind of cookie, big or small.

If you would like to help the haywire patch people get back on track please hunt down the Whipple Snipple Thingy, you’ll know what it is when you see it. Can’t miss it, in fact. Should you find this Whipple Snipple Thingy approach with caution if you are wearing shoes and release the imprisoned shoes and return them to the haywire patch people. A reward will be provided by today’s sponsor, Rat-ah-tat-tat Be-bop-bow-lop Snap-uh-to-EE-What-uh-bam-boo who knows exactly what it’s like to go without a good breakfast, which is why they suggest a good breakfast can go a long way, depending on how you and and how much you eat. Thank you for checking in and remember that forgetting is not a very memorable thing to do. This is me and see you next time, or um, actually, I’ll write more next time. In another post I mean. Not more words obviously although that could happen. It may be less words but it most certainly will be another article of some sort. You get the picture. Not an actual picture obviously just the idea. OK? You get the idea. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t know. Either way, I’ll write, more or less, again.

Sooner or later.

The post The Whipple Snipple Thingy Creates a Conundrum appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

The Whipple Snipple Thingy has gone awry in the haywire patch community causing much dismay among the haywire patch people, who are heavily known for going about their business daily without getting splinters or stepping on small Legos, which is the worst. However, peace and stability have been jeopardized (yeah, I spelled it right) that the Whipple Snipple Thingy has come entered their domain. It has caused terror beyond all human prepositions, whoops, I mean contradictions—that’s not it either—hmmm. Contraception? Magnefication? Obviously not. Oh yes! Beyond all human comprehension, which also rhymes with tension and kinda with kitchen. Either way, I digress; the unspeakable horror of the Whipple Snipple Thingy (which may be unspeakable but writeable as you can see) has the haywire patch people calling for local (although they would settle for loco as well) farmers to bale them out. See what I did there?

“My gudnuss,” said one fairly strange person from the haywire patch community. “I wen tu put on muh shoe buh dey dun gone off sum wer.” While this may seem like little cookies to some, maybe most, oh who am I kidding—everyone who ever existed, it is important to know that according to haywire patch people traditions, shoes must be tied in the mornings to prevent widespread, besides this is a situation and most certainly not any kind of cookie, big or small.

If you would like to help the haywire patch people get back on track please hunt down the Whipple Snipple Thingy, you’ll know what it is when you see it. Can’t miss it, in fact. Should you find this Whipple Snipple Thingy approach with caution if you are wearing shoes and release the imprisoned shoes to the haywire patch people. A reward will be provided by today’s sponsor, Rat-ah-tat-tat Be-bop-bow-lop Snap-uh-to-EE-What-uh-bam-boo who knows exactly what it’s like to go without a good breakfast. Thank you and remember that forgetting is not a very memorable thing to do. This is me and see you, or um, actually, I’ll write more next time. Not more words obviously although that could happen. It may be less words but another article of some sort. You get the picture. Not an actual picture obviously just the idea. OK? You get the idea.

Or maybe you don’t. I don’t know. Either way, I’ll write, more or less, again.

The post Whipple Snipple Thingy Creates a Conundrum appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

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.

The post Pink and Purple Hair appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

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!?

The post Awkward Goodbyes appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.

The year was eighteen hundred and nighty seven when Patrick, a sea daisy from Nova Scotia, was whipped for reasons unknown by someone whose child had apparently fallen inside a garden party. This marked the beginning of a dispute that has largely gone unnoticed by the human population for more than a century. Still, and quite remarkably, it affected the human language in ways that changed the flower community forever.

The whooped sea daisy, Patrick who also goes by Pat for some strange reason, managed to get back up after the strange spanking it endured; the person whose child had fallen near Pat and had also performed the alleged spanking stated that it only patted the flower as a way to show affection. Now, it is well-known among the tulips and dandelions, who were also present at the time of the incident, that this person said “You poor thing” to Patrick or possibly but less likely the fallen toddler. This, of course, caused many to believe that either Patrick or quite possibly daisies in general, had a lower status than other flowers at the time. This seemed almost certain when humans began to state “Whoop sea daisy” whenever small accidents happened.

One would think that would be the end of it until humans also began to say “Up Sea daisy” as a way to encourage others to rise from a fall. This caused a split in the sea daisy community which confused not only every species of flower but the entire ecosystem of North America alone. Who was poor? The Up Sea Daisies or the Whooped Sea Daisies? Could it be both? The Up Sea Daisies believed that their status was higher, which is hard to dispute considering that the word “Up” is in their name. However, the whooped sea daisies assert that this is all about semantics and that none of them were poor and demanded backpay from the flower community due to what they call an “Obvious” misunderstanding.

Bud Flowers, spokesman and eccentric sniffer represents the whooped sea daisies and offered his two cents earlier this morning. “I’d give more but that’s all I have right now.” With that,t I turn to my colleague and fellow commentator, Jarvis Ledfellow, what do you think of Bud’s strategy?

Well Brine, it’s a good un. Bud ain’t tellin’ ’em hodly a ting ah tall. Which leads me to bu leave dat thangs gone change round he-ow.

You heard that right, folks. And you can take that to the bank because Bud is the cream of the crop, but don’t be sour about this news. It’s just a dollop about the daisies. Now onto the potato!

The post Whooped Sea Daisies Sue Up Sea Daisies Over a Dollop appeared first on Bryan Timothy Mitchell.