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Michael Martin (Fantasy Author)

Consider yourself ‘kidnapped’ for fictional adventures and occasional rebelliousness. You’ve been warned (in the best way). I might bribe you with a free chapter of my latest novel just for signing up. But I’m certainly not going to guilt-trip you into sticking around. 😜

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Author REACTS to MEAN Reviews

Burn in Hades … the fantasy novel I wrote … is set in the spiritual Underworld (the realm of the dead). And I want to give you an exciting Underworld tour. Now, I could blabber all day about the intricate world-building details I put into that universe. And perhaps you’d be hooked on my every word. But I refuse to walk you through all that info-dumping in the style of a dry Wikipedia article. There’s nothing inherently wrong with an unbiased, objective perspective that delivers information in...

“cup of tea” That was it. That was all the text said. Three words. No punctuation, no context. I stared at it as if it were an ancient prophecy unearthed from the ruins of my inbox. Oh no, I think my editor’s losing it. She meant to text her spouse and accidentally sent me their shopping list. Or … Could it have been literal? Maybe she just wanted tea. Perhaps it was a friendly gesture, a pause from edits and deadlines. Wait, am I supposed to make it for her? Or am I the tea-fetching intern...

So, part of my gig at Carnival Cruise Line, back in the day, involved being the maestro of mood, the architect of atmosphere, the guy who made sure nobody had to suffer the awkward silence of a comedian’s grand entrance or ignominious exit. You know, the subtle sorcery of the sound booth. This one night, some jokester strolled up, all “IDC, bro, play whatever” when I asked about his walk-on music. My brain, being the magnificent beast it is, instantly conjured the brassy, ebullient, utterly...

The ship docked in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I’d navigated these arcane streets before, but my usual haunts? Nah, not that day. I bypassed Waffle-era Tea Room, my breakfast haven, because frankly, my stomach wasn’t craving waffles. And Carthage Express, with its utterly charming model train delivering Mallorca? A vision, truly, but my soul yearned for the primal satisfaction of a classic burger and a beer. The problem, my fellow voyager, was that San Juan boasted more burger joints than a dragon...

They said I did the most pretentious, vain, and narcissistic thing an author can ever do: I wrote myself into a story as a romanticized persona. Psssh. This groundbreaking, and frankly ill-advised, literary move is on full display in my fantasy web novel, Plot Device. I take full responsibility for introducing this self-reflexive error into the world of fiction. I confess that when I had the stroke of genius … (haters will say it was just a regular stroke) … I assumed I was charting entirely...

The Ring doorbell chimed on my phone. I opened the app and viewed the video feed. A UPS driver stood on my porch, dropping off a package. “Huh?” I paused, confused. I hadn’t ordered a damn thing. So, I wasn’t expecting any delivery. I raced to my front door and flung it open. Too late. The driver was already gone from my porch. I checked the package label. Wrong name, of course. But the street name? My own. The house number? Almost a match for mine—all except for one single, puny digit. I...