I’m actually using my second Tumblr! (AKA links, links everywhere)

I have two tumblr blogs set up. One is my popular DisneyTronBlog with almost 700 followers! (I don’t know if that really is a lot or not)

The other is a blog I made when I converted the first one to a Tron-based blog. It’s where I’ll post more personal stuff, like my poems, Alan Wake stuff, writing related pictures/posts. and non-tron things. Doctor Who pictures/gifs and other BBC shows will be shared on to there as well. It’s easy to find too. It’s just BrandanChapman. I’ll post my blog and journal updates on there as well.

If you’re a fan of Tumblr, this would be an easier means as to follow me, if you lack a Facebook, DeviantArt, Twitter, or even Google+. You can follow me just about anywhere online! If you like games, I like to stream on Twitch. I’ll post any of my decent streams on Youtube. I want to also start making vlogs. More to come on that. I may even read my book prologues for videos.

You can also get my books here, for the readers out there.

(Poem) Time and Relative Dimensions in Space

Type forty, always helping out.
Never failing, that’s without doubt.
Taking me to the places I need to be,
to the places that I needed to see.

So much more out there,
the vast universe we all share.
Always something new or something old,
Time always has a different story to be told.

Onwards! Allons-y! Geronimo!
To the places that I love to go!
Oh Sexy, you know me well.
You’re always there, even when I yell.

Let’s go someplace exciting!
Oh, how delighting!

(Poem) Regeneration is Useless

Two hearts feel twice the pain. Regeneration just changes my face. To what else do I gain? A different personality running the same pace. Carrying the burden of time. You lot are the ones that help ease it. My companions always in their prime, getting rid of my sorrow bit by bit. It’s always there when they break my hearts. I try not to get involved. I always end up in the places that it starts, the problems that needed to be solved. My curiosity gets the better of me. Is there a time I will ever see?

(Poem) Fire Ice and Rage

The ones that get close,
always seem to get burned.
Being like fire, everyone knows,
is a lesson that ought to be learned.

They break my hearts,
as I break theirs.
That’s the end as another starts,
these adventures that I share.

Like ice and rage,
like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun.
A new chapter, a new page,
making danger into loads of fun.

My pain is ancient and forever,
as my broken hearts never seem to heal.
All the times I think I’m clever,
just trying to make this love real.

I burn at the centre of time,
and I can see the turn of the universe.
Are my thoughts such a crime,
that I may not even attempt to converse?

A day it would be, that I wait to be cheerful,
is the day that someone describes me with, “And he’s wonderful.”

(Poem) Fantastic, Brilliant, Cool

Awful lot of running to be done.
Together we’ll have loads of fun.
Let’s not be too drastic!
You and I are so fantastic.

Quickly to Barcelona!
I know I just changed my persona.
Fine, let’s attend the holidays.
I’ll soon get back into my jolly ways.

A temp, a doctor, and back to the temp again,
Thinking next time I may refrain.
You were always so resilient,
and to me, you were so brilliant.

Fish fingers and custard!
Bringing your hubby will just make him flustered!
Always remember the first rule,
but foremost, remember to be cool.

(Poem) Faces of the Past Break My Hearts

When I met you it began with “Run!”

Together, seeing planets, we had so much fun.

My rose, you were so enthusiastic,

The both of us were so fantastic.

I have a new face, but you learned to love me.

I grabbed your hand and said “Allons-y!”

Our time quickly ran out before I could say,

I love you, on that fateful day.

I am trying to replace that feeling inside,

But to the rules of time I must abide.

I got to see you once before we even met.

You looked so brilliant.

Changed again, and I think of you from time to time.

My new friends were a whole new mountain to climb.

They left me, leaving me like a fool.

Because now I always think of them when I say things are cool.

One of my few Doctor Who poems I wrote for my first Creative Writing class.

(Poem) Two Hearts Love Twice More

It started with a rose.
Oh such a beautiful rose.

Even when I changed completely,
everything was still fine.

A rose that made travelling happy,
with a smile.

I lost the rose, one fateful day.
Oh how my hearts ached.

My love became real on that beach,
as much as I could’ve been there.

Time passed and I got to see you again.
Looking brilliant as ever.

But all of my waiting was in vain.
You have a part of me, but that part isn’t me.

I had to go, for the final time.
We may meet again, when worlds collide.

Why Fiction, Why Fantasy? (Story of how I decided to become an author)

I feel like I am asked these two questions a lot. Why fiction? Why fantasy? Why not write, what people consider, “real books or stories?” I won’t forget the looks I get when I describe writing science fiction and fantasy, or the idea of being an author for a career. It took time for me to discover wanting to be a writer with the passion that I have today.

When I had gotten into reading and writing was, in fact, when I learned how to read and write in kindergarten and earlier. My older brothers both dabbled in drawing and writing stories. With very poor attempts at drawing like my brothers, I decided to try writing stories. It instantly clicked. I loved creating stories and basing characters off of my friends. My first short story consisted of Bionicles from the LEGO universe that were all based on my friends. This was even before I was big into reading. But soon enough, I was falling in love with reading. Escaping from reality, from school, into the fantastic universes of books; it was brilliant. My parents witnessed me having to be forced to read, or where they would read along with me, but it didn’t take long until they saw me reading on my own, for fun nonetheless!

As I got further into grade school, reading became more of a chore. I found almost every text uninteresting, tedious to read, and irrelevant to me. This was before I could appreciate books like I do today. As a middle school student, the books were boring and, dare I say, stupid. I continued to write my short stories all throughout school, nonetheless. I remember a time in middle school when a substitute teacher was there for one of my classes. “What would you like to be when you all grow up?” She had spoken to us. After a few students said the typical “Scientist,” “Lawyer,” “Doctor,” I decided to chime in and say, “An author.” I will never forget the response the substitute gave me. “Well, have fun being homeless and penniless.” As a kid, I took that to heart.

I continued to write every day, and thought nothing of it. My English teachers would always compliment any piece I turned in whether it be poetry or just an essay, and still I didn’t even think anything about becoming a writer. The idea had literally been killed in my mind with the sharp daggers that the substitute spat at me. Soon enough, senior year of high school approached, and I was preparing to go into college for some sort of video game designing.

As the year progressed, we started to read the book Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom. Before we read it in class I was extremely put off by the idea of the book. I still had a passion for the fantasy worlds of science fiction, but then I started to read the book. Albom’s writing really hit me. I loved how words on a page could move someone so much. wanted to do that. My teacher had gotten me into many writers that year. It was that year I began reading Chaucer and started falling in love with Shakespeare. I felt like I was flying.

Senior year was flying by and I was actually considering being a writer. The thought of seeing my book on a shelf was inspiring. Graduation came right around the corner and then my first semester of college. Turns out my community college didn’t have a major for any graphic designing or English. I mean seriously? Not even English?

So I ended up with a general major of Universal Studies. Woo! My college life had begun. I started my basics with little enthusiasm. Having to take math and science was not appealing. I still dread the thought of those classes.

It was sometime in my first semester I discovered my brother Ryan was going to try to pursue game designing. He showed me several of the things that game designing includes. “I’ve always been handy with doing my art on the computer,” he explained to me, “So getting these programs would just increase my creative output.” As I stared at all the art he had about his room, that’s when I realized something from my childhood; I can’t even make simple drawings, so what makes me think I could make complex worlds or characters on a computer? “Sounds perfect for you, being a hardcore gamer and artist.” I simply replied as my gaming love wasn’t strong enough to make me want to practice art.

Not long after my first semester, I had gotten a part time job that would be ideal to any writer. I got to work around books.  At least, I thought I was going to. I had applied for a Book Associate position at Hastings Entertainment. When I got the call that I was getting an interview, I was stoked. A week later I realized I was being put on the cash register. The books department loomed at the other side of the store, with the department sign always in my vision like it was just out of reach.

Second semester of college came and I decided to take a short story class. In between part time job and school, I began to have little time to write or read. I had hoped this class would be enjoyable. I mean reading short stories for homework sounds amazing, right? It was! We went over several authors. I began to fall into a whole new world of stories. I connected well because my stories at the time were only short stories. We went over people like Faulkner, Poe, Joyce, and many others.  I had already loved Edgar Allan Poe, but having a class go over it was thrilling.

My second year of college came around and I was completely in love with literature. I took the class introduction to literature to have credits towards some sort of English degree, hoping I’d eventually be able to branch off into a writing degree. It was at some point in the semester that clicked with me the most. We came across a particular author. I read the syllabus and saw the pages to go to. I turned to the pages and see the words Hills Like White Elephants. Ernest Hemingway. We had gone over him in my short story class. This story was the one that made me realize that my type of writing actually has a style. I thought back to the words of my short story teacher and he said that Hemingway loved to use dialogue over description. Whether it was important to the story or not, that’s how he wrote. I write like that. I lovedialogue! I love developing characters and events through people speaking rather than just bluntly describing it, but I still described things as much as possible. It wasn’t much detail compared to that of most authors, but it reminded me highly of how Hemingway wrote in that minimalism style. I had a real style.

Finally I was moved over to the books department in Hastings. I was in love. It’s like hiring an alcoholic as a bartender. It felt magical. I wanted to read everything there was. The wall at the far end of the book department was my favourite. Science Fiction. I began to read more and more of my genre. It was the fantasy worlds I had longed for.

My first month into working the books department, I happened upon a book called The Guide to Writing Fantasy and Science Fiction by Philip Athans. The thing that made this an impulse buy was that the forward was by R.A. Salvatore. I had heard so much about Salvatore from my cousin and I saw his Drizzt series that takes place in the world of Dungeons and Dragons. I quickly began to read the guide and it became my bible. R.A. Salvatore forwarded the guide with his journey to becoming a writer. He started college a math/computer science major. Then one winter, he was snowed in and read a book he had received as a gift. When he received it, he thought nothing of it, besides that he wanted money and not a book. It was The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Reading this, I loved how a book changed his major completely. Similar to me almost, with how Tuesdays With Morrie opened my mind more to writing. Tolkien had always been an interest of mine, but reading that made me love the Lord of the Rings universe more and more. I soon began to read Salvatore’s series and wanted to be a writer like him.

This is when things began to finally fall into place for me as a writer. Surrounded by my future career at work, and at my last semester of community college, I began to take a newly started Creative Writing class. I was excited. To be around people who love books and wanted to write books just like me. Writing in that class gave me the means to begin writing more often. I soon started to put my short stories into a novel.

Then I was introduced to an author that the book manager at my work really enjoyed. He showed me the book American Gods by Neil Gaiman. My response at the time was, “Oh the writer for those episodes of Doctor Who!” Little did I know that Neil Gaiman would become my favourite author after just one book. Neil Gaiman and R.A. Salvatore have been the two authors that have given me the most inspiration to keep going as a writer.

So why fiction? Why fantasy? To put it simply, it’s because that’s how it has been, since my first short story to every story that followed. It’s home to me.