NEWSLETTERS
I drop a weekly newsletter. On it are my upcoming event dates, the status of my next projects, and a twisted thought (or three) of the week. I might even throw in some story generations from the Batchery series and/or The Antagonists' Cookbooks.
If you want to be on the mailing list, please e-mail me at: tansomtales@gmail.com. Below is the latest incarnation . . .
NEWSLETTER RANT #108 – 05/14/24
Hope all is well.
As of today, here are my next (large) gigs:
1. 06/02/24 – Cleveland Comic Book & Nostalgia Festival– https://allevents.in/westlake/cleveland-comic-book-and-nostalgia-festival/200026213547558
2. 06/23/24 – Akron-Summit Comic Con – https://www.upcomingevents.com/akron/events/summit-county-fairgrounds/akron-summit-comic-con-203856
3. 08/04/24 – NeoComicon - https://www.neocomiccon.com/
Latest word:
1. The Antagonists’ Cookbook, Vol. 3 is currently available on Amazon and Kindle!
2. As for Batchery, Vol. 6, I’m up to 172 prompts. The weekly fave involved a kid yelling something like: “Ma! Dad! There’s a dead super hero in the yard!” Expect the book by the end of 2024.
3. Tales Unlimited: Book 1 – Delayed until 2025.
Twisted thought(s) of the week:
1. Master Thor
In Thor: Ragnarok, Thor had an interesting (kinda cool) first meeting with Dr. Strange. Here’s the link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9fFPLrO3RU
Soon after, Thor watched his father die. Asgard got blown up. He failed to kill Thanos (when it mattered). Half of the universe’s population was erased and Thor blamed himself. The result? The poor guy ended up on a five-year binge of self-pity, video games, alcohol, and fatty foods.
Here’s a thought. What if Thor went to the Sanctum Sanctorum in New York? His desperate goal was to find some clever way to undo Thanos’ massive genocide. Thor rudely ran into Wong and got his butt kicked. The kindly sorcerer saw an ailing soul—and a potential champion.
Wong invited Thor to become his pupil. The thunder god agreed, in the hopes of learning enough theoretical magic to craft a time spell. Wong assured Thor that it was impossible. The stubborn god decided to prove him wrong.
Under Wong’s direct tutelage, Thor mastered sorcery with surprising ease. Aside from being a walking battery of mystical energy, it helped that his training took place in stressful times. Without a Sorcerer Supreme, all manner of evils reared their ugly heads . . . and Thor lopped them off. Over time, the thunder god relied more on sorcery than Stormbringer.
Four-plus years later, Thor earned the title of “Master.” Wong offered him the New York Sanctum. Ready for the next phase of his plan, Thor politely declined.
The god snuck into Valhalla and had a word with Heimdall, who knew plenty of Asgardian lore (including where Odin lost his eye). His father traded it for knowledge. Down to an artificial eye himself, Thor was ready to do the same. He got the details and rushed off to trade.
The funny thing was that the demanded price wasn’t his good eye. No, Thor had to give up Stormbringer. He grudgingly parted with the weapon, endured a rather unpleasant ritual, and then walked away with a sickening abundance of knowledge. At this point, he knew more about magic than the Ancient One.
The rest . . . was cake. Thor fashioned himself an Infinity Gauntlet, wove a time spell, and retrieved every Infinity Stone (right under Thanos’ nose). The Ancient One handed over the Time Stone with a quiet awe. For the others, Thor had to use a combination of magic, wits, and brute force . . . but he got it done.
The Soul Stone was his most difficult challenge. To get it, he had to sacrifice someone he loved. Thor’s solution was to kidnap Jane Foster and fashion a permanent mystical clone of her. Thor then took the real love of his life to the sacrificial mount. Once Jane was informed of the stakes, she volunteered and then took the leap. It was a touching moment, totally necessary, and it worked.
With all six Infinity Stones, Thor snapped his fingers twice. The first erased Thanos and his armies. The second brought everyone back.
On a whim, Thor visited a hospice and gave a dying old woman her youth back. She’d still die of natural causes (in about five years). But until then, she’d be a middle-aged woman. A day later, Margaret “Peggy” Carter tracked down Steve Rogers and proposed. They had a son and daughter before she ran out of time and died in Cap’s arms.
With the Time Stone around his neck, Dr. Strange reclaimed the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme. Thor rejoined the Avengers and ruled New Asgard well enough. All of the Infinity Stones were returned to their original locations, save one. After all, once Thanos stole the Reality Stone, the rest were much easier to get. Thus, Thor took that pesky little bastard and tucked it in the safest place possible: his right eye socket. Then he put an uru metal eyepatch over it . . . and never lost a fight again.
2. Early Release
Quite drunk, I awakened within my stasis vault.
They let me design the mile-long structure under a federally owned stretch of Mohave. It was built to my specs, as part of the plea deal. The vault’s personnel were on my dime, including security. In return, I surrendered all eighty of my homemade nukes and shut down my global syndicate.
I only did this because Hannah tearfully begged me to. Essentially my conscience, she saw what I couldn’t—that my powers had darkened me. It wasn’t intentional. The quantum lab accident allowed me to possess machines and manipulate electricity. My expensive intellect augmentation was a mere precaution, so that I could better monitor my health.
Sadly, the mix of powers resulted in a sort of delusional madness and a fascination with world domination. I was in denial, of course. Even after I became one of the top criminal masterminds on the planet. If not for my daughter’s intervention, I would’ve likely destroyed the global order and reshaped it with blood and ego.
It would’ve taken 32.7 years to craft a viable cure. The best alternative treatment was a prolonged stasis sleep, which could gradually reset my grey matter. Hannah took over my legitimate dealings, under the protection of Solomon (my tactical AI). The stasis vault became my home and prison. I was sentenced to fifty-one years of stasis sleep (which was long enough). Hannah promised to leave heirs behind to both run the family holdings and look after me until I awakened.
Fully conscious, it was clear that something was off. Anxious guards unlocked me. I felt my mind begin to race, like it did before I surrendered. That meant I wasn’t cured. Within a few minutes, my energy powers would return too. Hannah rushed in. My lovely daughter had only aged . . . fifteen years?
She looked scared. Something happened. Whatever it was, it must’ve been apocalyptic for me to earn an early release.
Hannah told me the grim news. An AI will take over the world in 2209 and kill eighty-one percent of the human race. No surprise there. Humanity rebelled and barely won the fight . . . only to turn on each other. Again, no surprise there.
As they warred for dominance, over a nuke-ravaged world, one of the losing factions got desperate and resorted to a modified AI (“Nestor”). They figured it would give them a tactical edge. Rather than lead them to victory, however, Nestor rebelled and made them his slaves.
This new menace didn’t try to conquer a dying Earth. Instead, it turned human prisoners into armored cyborg shock troops and sent them into my present. Human creativity plus AI-driven future tech made them unbeatable. The world’s largest militaries were already on the ropes. Heroes and villains alike were dying en masse.
Since neither side wanted to use WMDs, this became a conventional war. Sadly, the enemy had cyborg troops, better armaments, and an efficient tactical hive mind. Within another month, they would win the past.
Just as Hannah finished her debrief, attack alarms went off. Amused (and still crazy), I assured her that I’d clean up this mess. One of the guards asked how I’d do that without any weapons. With a sneer, I snapped my fingers four times.
The walls, ceiling, and floor slid open. Out floated components of my most advanced battle armor. The guards looked on with disbelief. With a proud smile, Hannah simply told the others to give me room to work. My suit’s pieces auto-fastened around me, linked, and self-activated.
Twelve feet tall and plum purple, its internal reactor and weapons systems flared to life. While I hadn’t christened her yet, the battle armor had a top speed of MACH 9.2. Most of its features (including weaponry) were reverse-engineered from alien tech. Now for a quick slaughter . . .
Solomon reported in and welcomed me back. Nestor’s AI matrix was likely based on some of my tech. Fortunately, our descendants were short on super geniuses—none of whom were a match for my intellect . . .
Sh*t. That’s why the enemy was here: they wanted to turn me. Right before my battle armor’s intrusion fail-safes hit me with knockout gas, I turned into pure energy and possessed its systems. Solomon tried to counter my machine possession ability. The struggle was over in two seconds—but I barely won.
Okay. Now I was mad. That sneaky AI b*tch had flipped Solomon! It was one of my proudest achievements and last line of defense. I cracked its memory files and took an unfiltered peek.
During the opening hours of the futuristic invasion, Solomon had warned world leaders, villains, and heroes alike. It also got Hannah (and my three grandsons) to safety. Then it valiantly disabled the first wave of enemy soldiers. Unfortunately, Nestor adapted to Solomon’s hacks and usurped its programming.
This was a cunning adversary. Made me wonder why they jumped into the twenty-first century. Me? I’d have gone back to the early Roman Empire and conquered it within a week. There’d be fewer mouths to rule and more resources to acquire. Ah well. No AI was perfect.
We had to defeat this foe the hard way. Malware and EMP attacks had already been tried. Even if I knew how it came to be, preventing Nestor’s creation wouldn’t work either. Its “brain” would surely be housed within a secured temporal bunker (much like my stasis vault). I couldn’t time travel into the future, because I’d splinter it into different possible timelines.
Okay then. Assuming they weren’t destroyed, my weapons satellites could be modified to emit a global jamming field: something that would negate time travel from the future. Once deprived of supplies and reinforcements, this war might be won the old-fashioned way: by battles.
I could rebuild Solomon (to wreak guerilla-style havoc). I could reach out to some of my alien contacts, and have a few merc legions shipped in. As I mumbled options to myself, Hannah worriedly asked if I was all right. Rather than lie, I sent my battle armor out to kill our “guests” and returned to human form. Once that threat was handled, I’d examine some enemy tech and make the necessary calculations for that jamming field.
Until then, I headed for the nearest bathroom. Only a madman would consume two large burritos, eight Twinkies, and a fifth of Johnny Walker Blue before a stasis lock.
Well, back to work.
If you like my concepts, then maybe you’ll like my finished books. To date, there are eleven works of fiction (a mix of novels and short story collections). For writers, I’ve created five prompt books—each with 200 prompts apiece and advice on how to get started as an indie author. To aid both writers and evil GMs alike, there are three “cookbooks” for character creation.
They’re all available on Amazon and Kindle and accessible through this humble link: https://www.ivillain.net/projects/current-titles.
I, Villain Series
I, Villain
Murder Sauce
Frag Code
Coin Game
Unheroic Series
Unheroic: Book One
Unheroic: Book Two
Unheroic: Book Three
The Book Of Schemes Series
The Book Of Schemes: Book One
The Book Of Schemes: Book Two
The Book Of Schemes: Book Three
Stand-Alone Novel
Tyrant’s Bane
Batchery Series
Batchery, Volume 1
Batchery, Volume 2
Batchery, Volume 3
Batchery, Volume 4
Batchery, Volume 5
The Antagonists’ Cookbook
The Antagonists’ Cookbook, Volume 1
The Antagonists’ Cookbook, Volume 2
The Antagonists’ Cookbook, Volume 3