Category Archives: Joss Whedon

50K Blog – A Few of my Favorite Things

This is a Worldbuilders blog.

Over the last couple years, I’ve been cautious about the donation goals I set for Worldbuilders. I set my sights on a goal I’m pretty sure we can hit, and only after we get there do I bump up the target number on our donation thermometer. Some years I’ve done this eight or nine times.

I do it this way because back in 2008 when I started all this, I thought to myself, “I wonder if I could get people to donate 5000 dollars if I gave away prizes and offered to match donations?”

When I raised that much in just a couple of days, I was stunned. So I moved it up to $10,000 dollars, worrying that I was overstepping myself, not really believing that we could raise that much….

Three years and 600,000 dollars later, I still feel the same way. Every year I find myself thinking, “Will publishers help out again? Will authors care enough to send me books? Will people tweet and link and spread the word to their friends? Will geeks of all creeds and nations step up to the plate one more time?”

Then it all comes together, and I’m full of stunned, warm-fuzzy joy all over again.

This year, I decided to try something different. Rather than move our donation goal around all higgledy-piggledy, I decided to set some target levels. Something we could shoot for as a team. Then, if people are awesome enough to help me hit those goals, I’d put extra stuff into the fundraiser as a way to thank everyone for contributing.

We hit our first goal of 50,000 last Friday, so today you get the first of these blogs. I’ve got four more planned, each with increasingly cool additions to the fundraiser.

This is the one I like to think of as the AV blog. Where I share some of my favorite non-book media with with y’all.

  • A complete DVD set of Buffy and Angel.

Over the years, I’ve made no secret of my love for Joss Whedon. I started watching Buffy seriously in 2002, right when I was seriously starting revision on The Name of the Wind. Watching this series changed how I thought about storytelling, and the tricks I learned from it taught me a lot about plot and characterization.

Simply said, I think this is the finest television show ever produced. So I’m adding it to the prize lottery.

  • Two DVD sets of Red Dwarf including Back to Earth: The Director’s Cut.

I started watching Red Dwarf way back in the day. Back when it was on VHS tapes, and you couldn’t find copies for love nor money in the US.

This is the full eight seasons and the recent three-part: Back to Earth.

In my opinion, you aren’t a real sci-fi geek if you haven’t watched this. It’s one of the classics. Best of all, because the show relies on the cleverness of the writing rather than special effects, it holds up very well these days even though the first season was more than 20 years ago.

  • Two DVD sets of Firefly.

I will never get over the cancellation of Firefly. Not in a hundred years. And I meant what I said earlier in the year when I wrote an open letter to Nathan Fillion.

If you don’t like this series, odds are we can’t be friends. I’m sorry. That’s just the way it is.

  • Two DVD sets of Dollhouse.

Some people didn’t like Dollhouse. Then again, some people are idiots who drink their own pee.

[P.S. If y'all in the marketing department at Fox would like to use this as a promotional quote for the series, feel free. Just spell my name right.]

  • One audio cd of Telling Tales by Neil Gaiman.

This is one of the CD’s that you can get from Dreamhaven. It’s one of the earlier recordings of Neil Gaiman reading his own work. Good stuff.

  • One audio cd of Speaking in Tongues by Neil Gaiman.

Like the above, but different. If you catch my meaning.

  • One copy of Warning: Contains Language by Neil Gaiman.

This is a two-CD set also features music by Dave McKean and the Flash girls. It features Gaiman reading poems and stories from Angels and Visitations.

As an interesting aside, in the liner notes, it reads:

Unauthorized Copying of this CD is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you’d appreciate the warning.

  • Three audio cds of 3 doz Poems read by Garrison Keillor from The Writer’s Almanac.

Some people think that I hate poetry, not realizing, perhaps, that Kvothe and I are actually two different people.

Believe it or not, we are separate entities with different thoughts and emotions. Other telltale differences include hair color: Mine is brown. His is red. He is mostly a fictional character, and I am mostly real. He is a better singer, while I am a better kisser.

We also radically differ on our opinions of poetry. He has an irrational loathing of it, while I myself quite enjoy it.

Well…. some of it. The good stuff.

This is the good stuff. Lovely poems selected and read by America’s greatest living storyteller: Garrison Keillor.

  • Two audio collections of Good Poems by Garrison Keillor.

You can also tell that these are good poems. Because, well, it says so right there: Good Poems. You can’t get much clearer than that.

This is a 4 CD set, containing a marvelous selection of poetry read by a number of wonderful readers, including Keillor himself. Honestly, I would listen to the man read a phone book. Getting to hear him read some of the finest poetry ever is just a bonus.

  • One set of The First and Second Seasons of Flight of the Conchords and an audio cd of The Distant Future.

I loved Flight of the Conchords before they were cool. If you haven’t watched their HBO series, you really need to.

  • Five copies of The Adventures of Sexton Blake.

I raved about this BBC Audio production last year on the blog.

And you know what? Everything I said about it then is just as true today. I listened to this a couple weeks ago and laughed my metaphorical ass off. If anything, I think it’s funnier the 20th time around.

  • A copy of The Ultimate David Sedaris Box Set.

While Garrison Keillor is my favorite living storyteller. David Sedaris takes a close second place.

I only discovered him a couple years ago when someone recommended I listen to “Six to Eight Black men.”

They were really insistent, so I looked it up on Youtube just to shut them up about it.

The next day I went out and bought this box set, which contains 20 CD worth of David Sedaris reading the entirety of Me Talk Pretty One Day, Naked, Holidays on Ice, Barrel Fever and Other Stories, and Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim.

I’ve been a fan of The Guild since back in 2008 when I interviewed Felicia Day and we became BFFs.

Because I love spreading the word about cool indi geekery like this, I picked up several sets of the first two seasons of The Guild when I was at San Diego ComicCon with the sole purpose of giving them away to people and getting them hooked on the series.

Felicia was nice enough to sign them for me. She’s just an all-around nice person.

*     *     *

Remember, you for every 10 dollars you donate on the Worldbuilders Team Page, you get a chance to win everything here, not to mention the hundreds of other books that have already been donated.

What’s more, if you donate before January 31st of 2012, Worldbuilders will match 50% of your donation.

Also, every dollar donated brings us closer to $100,000. Once we hit that, I’ll post up another blog with more personal additions to the fundraiser.

And lastly, don’t forget about the auctions Worldbuilders is running right now. Some of them will be ending soon…

Spread the word…

pat

|posted by Pat 20 Comments

My brain….

As I mentioned before I took a recent trip to Iowa City because Nancy Andreasen wanted to take a picture of my brain. She’s a Big Deal neurophysician who’s doing research into how the brains of creative folk do their big, weird think-makings.

The plan was for me to go in, get my brain scanned, have an interview, then do some tests that measure cognitive function.

It was going to be a full day, so I drove down to Iowa City and spent the night. The morning before I went into the hospital, I was nervous.

Specifically, I was nervous about what shirt I was going to wear.

While I was driving down to Iowa, it occurred to me that if, say, lightning struck the building when I was in the MRI, I might develop superpowers of some sort. And on a day when you might develop superpowers, the shirt you wear is a pretty important decision. As they say, clothes make the man.

Because I hadn’t planned ahead, I only had two good options. One was my Legend of Neil t-shirt. And the other was my tried and true, Joss Whedon is my Master Now shirt.

At first the Neil shirt seems to be the front-runner. While pixelated, Link’s powers are nothing to scorn. In addition to a cool pan-dimensional inventory system. I could throw bombs, shoot fire, and engage in some implausible but terribly convenient music-based teleportation.

Plus, when I was at full health, I’d be able to throw my sword. Or shoot lasers out of it. I was never really clear on that.

Despite all this, I went with the Whedon shirt. While less tangible, Whedon’s storytelling prowess is more in keeping with my lifestyle. If I could add his powers to my own, I would become nigh-unstoppable. Plus, I hear that due to contractual obligations, he can call up Alyson Hannigan at any hour of the day or night and have her drive out to his house just so he can smell her hair.

That’s a power I wouldn’t mind inheriting. It would be nice to cross that off my list of…

Okay. Hold on for a second. Time out. I’ve got to tangent away for a moment.

Here’s the deal. Sometimes, late at night, when I’m low on sleep and writing a blog, I write stupid bullshit that strikes me as funny. This isn’t a new thing. In addition to my novels, I’ve been writing ridiculous humor pieces of one sort or another for almost twenty years now.

What’s different now is that I’m doing it online. Also, these days a ridiculous number of people read the blog. People link to it. Sometimes 7-8 thousand people a day stop by to read what I write.

Usually I don’t think about it much. But every once in a while I get a terrible thought: what if someone reads this?

I’m not talking about us geeks. I write this blog for my fellow geeks to read and laugh at. I’m worried about one of THEM reading it. Y’know. One of the cool famous people…

What if a couple years from now I’m at some party out in LA, and I get to meet Alyson Hannigan? A mutual acquaintance waves her over and introduces me as “New York Times Bestselling Author, Patrick Rothfuss.”

She smiles politely. Nods. But wait… there’s something more. I see a flicker of recognition in her eye. I get excited, thinking, “She’s read the book! She knows who I am!”

Then she says, “You’re that pervert who wants to smell my hair!”

I freeze in place, trying to think of something witty and disarming to say. But all I can think is, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why did I ever write that blog? Why didn’t I just post up tour dates on my website like all the other authors? Why didn’t I write nice safe blogs with funny pictures of my cat? What is wrong with me that I’m compelled to tell these weird fucking stories all the time?”

Then, with the fluid grace that comes from years of experience, Alyson maces me. I fall to my knees, clawing at my eyes and saying something garbled about the fact that all humor is rooted in transgression. But before I can make my point clear, Alexis Denisof steps up and proceeds to give me the beating of three different lifetimes in the space of about 45 seconds.

Which sucks, because that means I probably won’t ever get a chance to smell his hair either. So that’s two things that are never getting crossed off my list.

Jesus. You see? I can’t stop. I swear there is something wrong with my brain.

Speaking of which, *that* was supposed to be the point of this blog. Showing you the picture of my brain.

So here it is:

(Click to Embiggen)

It’s actually a computer model that they generated based on the MRI scans. If any of you can find the spot on there that compels me to endlessly make an ass of myself, I’d appreciate it if you’d point it out to me. Maybe then I could do a quick Dremel trepanation and let the demons out or something.

Wearily yours,

pat

|posted by Pat 71 Comments

An open letter to Nathan Fillion

Mr. Fillion,

First, I have to say that I admire your work. I’ve read many of your interviews and have come to respect you not only as a truly fine actor, but as an uncommonly intelligent human being.

But let’s get straight to the heart of the matter. It has come to my attention that in a recent interview, you said the following:

“If I got $300 million from the California Lottery, the first thing I would do is buy the rights to Firefly, make it on my own, and distribute it on the Internet.”

This struck a particular chord with me. As only a few months ago, I said very nearly the same thing. “If I ever get Stephen King famous,” I said, “I’ll buy the rights to Firefly and give it to Joss Whedon as a birthday present.”

Here’s the deal. My second book is about to come out. My publisher tells me there’s a decent chance of us selling a truly ridiculous number of copies. If this happens, I will have more money than I’ll know what to do with.

Except that’s not exactly true. I know exactly what I’d like to do with that money. I’d like to help you buy the rights to Firefly back from Fox.

I’m only a fledgling author. But by a strange twist of fate, I happen to be a fledgling author who is also an international bestseller.

Left to my own devices, I will probably spend my royalty money on useless bullshit. I will buy rare books and narwhal horns. If the book sells extremely well, I expect I’ll probably do something like buy an abandoned missile silo and convert it into my secret underground lair.

Clearly, this way lies madness.

Here is my thought. Alone, all we can do is dream wistful dreams of Firefly’s return. Together, we are a team. We can gather others to our cause. With 20 or 30 of the right people, we could pool our resources and make this shit happen.

You know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Patrick Rothfuss

*     *     *

Those of you who don’t happen to be Nathan Fillion, there’s a new interview over here. Rest assured, it’s spoiler-free.

On the same page, Paul Goat Allen gives The Wise Man’s Fear the best review I expect I will ever receive in my whole life. I’m serious. You’d think he wrote it after I pulled his children out of a burning building or something.

Or, if you’re in a listening mood, I’m on the Sword and Laser podcast with Veronica Belmont and Tom Merritt. We talk about Jim Butcher and Cylons, among other things.

Tour FAQ will be up soon. I’m working out the last few details.

pat

|posted by Pat 229 Comments

Seven Stories Concerning Joss Whedon – or – The Road to Damascus

This is a Worldbuilders blog.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s come to my attention that some of you out there might not know about Joss Whedon. This worries me.

Even more troubling is the thought that some of you might know of Whedon, but still haven’t taken him into your heart or witnessed his glorious work.

I used to be like you. I used to live in darkness. Let me share my story with the hope that you might come to know him as I do….

* * *

It’s 1999. Home from college, I go to a New Year’s party with some old friends. Halfway through the evening, someone mentions Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“Never seen it,” I say.

Suddenly they’re all bleating like sheep about how much they love the show. Everyone feels compelled to tell me their favorite line. Their favorite part. The time this character did this thing in this place.

“Yes yes,” I said. “I’ve heard it all before. Honestly, it sounds pretty dumb to me.”

Things get heated. It turns out I’m the only person there not actively following the show. They can’t believe how ignorant I am. How can I not be watching it?

Finally I’ve had enough. I hold up a hand to get everyone’s attention. “Listen,” I say. “I’m a huge geek. I’ve written a fantasy trilogy that will never be published. I once dressed up as Pan for Halloween. I have LARPed.” I looked at them all seriously. “And you people embarrass me. I am ashamed to be standing close to you right now. Kindly shut up about your stupid vampire cheerleader show.”

It’s 2002. I’m in grad school, covered in a thick, greasy layer of drudgery and helpless rage. I’m fighting as hard as I can, only to realize that academia is a tarbaby made out of bullshit and willful ignorance.

One of my friends buys the first season of Buffy on DVD and leaves it in my house. That’s it. No sales pitch. I just come home from class and it’s sitting on my coffee table.

And that’s where it stays. I’ve made my feelings clear. I’m getting my Masters in English Literature. I’ll be god-damned if I watch a show called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

But, eventually, there’s nothing else to watch in the house, so I plug it one evening while I eat my dinner.

And it’s exactly what I expected. It’s trash. It’s heavy handed. The plot is predictable.

Worse of all, there’s a showdown between the plucky blond eye-candy and the bad guy at the end of the first episode.

Buffy: Well you forgot about one thing!
Vampire: Whats that?
Buffy: Sunrise!

She breaks a window behind the vampire and rich amber light pours in, making the vampire howl in fear.

I roll my eyes. I’ve seen this cliche a dozen times before. I’d be bored if I wasn’t so insulted. I reach for the remote.

But it isn’t sunlight pouring through the window. It’s just a lightbulb in the alleyway. The vampire looks out the window, confused.

Buffy: Its not for another 9 hours, moron.

I start to laugh, realizing whoever wrote this knows exactly what he’s doing. This isn’t cliche. This is whatever the opposite of cliche is.

I watch the second episode.

It’s 2003. I’m out of grad school and teaching my own classes for the very first time.

I’ve made contact with a big-name New York literary agent. He’s read my book and thinks it has potential. He says I’m a good writer, but my book has structural problems. There are plot issues. Am I willing to revise?

I am. But I have no idea where to start. I read a book called Writing the Blockbuster Novel and it makes no sense at all to me. I re-read my novel and realize I don’t have the slightest fucking idea what I’m doing.

Fall semester ends, and the university tells me enrollment is down. Quick as that I’m unemployed.

So I go out and buy my very first home theater system. Bose speakers. Subwoofer. I fill up the credit card, figuring that if I’m going to be unemployed, I might as well enjoy my free time. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be able to get any writing done….

The first thing I watch is the second season Buffy.

It opens a window in my head. It changes the way I think about stories.

It’s 2004. Despite the fact that I’m not really interested in space cowboys or whatever, I buy a copy of Firefly.

It’s 6:00 AM when I sit down to watch it. After half an hour, one of my roommates wanders blearily into the living room.

“Wassis?” he asks.

“Firefly,” I say. “First episode. I can start it over if you want…”

He lays down on the other couch and we re-start the episode.

Ten minutes later he looks at me. “They canceled this?” he asks.

“Apparently.”

He looks at the screen, then back at me. “I’m so fucking pissed!”

I nod.

Six years later I’m still pissed. I’ll probably be pissed about Firefly until the day I die.

It’s 2006, and I’m attending one of my first conventions. I’ve sold my book, so now my job is to make friends in the fan community. Mingle. Rub elbows. Network.

I get invited to a party. I drink a drink. I end up talking with a beautiful young woman in a tight red dress.

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” she says. “I watched some Buffy, couldn’t get into it. Firefly was boring. I just don’t get what I’m supposed to be missing.”

“Well…” I said thoughtfully. “Have you ever considered the fact that you might not actually have a soul?”

It’s 2008. Dr. Horrible goes online. I’m giddy as a schoolgirl. I write a blog about it. I bring my friends over to watch. I leave it playing on my computer while I do work around the house, while I check my e-mail, while I eat lunch.

This continues for weeks.

Then one day while I’m singing “A Man’s gotta Do…” in the shower, I have an idea for a short story. This is a rarity. I don’t do short stories. Better yet, it’s a short graphic novel.

So I sit down and start to write it out. It’s fun. I’ve never written a script for a graphic novel, and it’s tricky thinking in terms of page layouts, paneling, and dialogue placement. I break out my copy of Understanding Comics and start making notes for a friend who could do the illustrations.

Two hours later I realize I’m writing Dr. Horrible fanfiction.

Four hours later I’m still writing it.

It’s 2009. While playing Guest of Honor at a convention, I end up on a panel about Joss Whedon.

Much to my surprise, I hear people nitpicking. They say, “Buffy was great until season four.” “I got bored with Dollhouse after two episodes.” “Angel was too dark.” “Buffy got weird in season five….”

Finally I’ve had enough. I hold up a hand to get everyone’s attention.

“Listen,” I say unto them. “You’re all a bunch of whiny little titbabies. Joss Whedon is a storyteller and you’re upset because he isn’t acting like a music box, playing you your favorite song again and again.

“Joss Whedon made me care about the X-men, even Cyclops. He sold me on space cowboys. He made me sing in the shower and write fanfiction for the first time in my life. He told me a subtle story with Dollhouse and gave me the best character arc I’ve ever seen with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.”

“Why don’t you marry him?” someone shouts from the audience.

“Because of Proposition 8,” I shot back. “And because he never returns my calls.”

* * *

So that’s the story of my conversion to Whedonism. I’ve pulled a Saul of Tarsus and these days I’m a full-blown missionary. In fact, Sarah has informed me my man-crush is about to step from being cute to creepy, so I’m trying to reign myself in a little bit here.

For example, I’m not going to post up any of my Whedon-tribute macaroni art. Neither will I trouble you with any of the sonnets I’ve composed.

Instead, I’ll add some Whedon stuff to the Worldbuilders lottery. That means if you donate money to Heifer International before January 15th, you have a chance of winning this stuff in addition to all the other cool prizes.

  • All seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the five seasons of Angel, and the first five graphic novels composing “Season Eight”of Buffy.


About a year ago, I went to talk to a bunch of high-schoolers as part of a book festival.

As per usual, I read a bit, then did some Q&A.

One of the kids asked a question about character building. I thought of the perfect example that would answer his question and said, “Have you seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

I meant it to be a rhetorical question. I mean, everyone’s seen Buffy, right?

He hadn’t. I was a little surprised. So I asked the whole auditorium, “Who here has watched Buffy?”

Only about three hands went up.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose. But I was. What’s more, I was actually mad. I turned to the teacher that had arranged for me to come out and talk to the kids and demanded, “What the hell are you teaching these kids?”

  • Both hardcover volumes of the Astonishing X-Men, containing the entire story arc written by Joss Whedon.


Even if you don’t read comics, you will enjoy this. Even if you don’t care about the X-Men, you will like this story. It’s wonderfully self-contained, so you don’t need to know the last 40 years of x-history to follow what’s going on.

  • The complete series of Firefly and the sequel movie Serenity.


If I ever get to teach a creative writing class, I’m assigning Firefly as a textbook. Everything you need to know about storytelling is right there in the pilot episode.

Side note: if you watch the movie before watching the series, I will magically appear and choke you.

  • The first season of Dollhouse.


Some people I normally respect are all snarky about Dollhouse.

Fie, I say unto them. If you can’t handle a subtle story, feel free to go watch MTV cribs. The rest of us will be right here, enjoying the awesome.

It’s a different sort of story. That means, of necessity, it has a different tone. But it’s still Whedon, and that’s all that matters.

  • Two copies of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog.


For concentrated cool, it’s hard to beat this disk. Not only is DR. Horrible like a primer on how to create a realistic villain, but the commentary track is a musical too. I’m not even kidding.

God. Just looking at the cover makes me want to listen to it again….

That’s all for now folks. Remember that the fundraiser is over on January 15th. So if you want to get in on the action, you better do so soon.

Money raised by Worldbuilders goes to Heifer International, which helps people all over the world raise themselves out of poverty and starvation. If you’d like to donate directly you can head over to my page at Team Heifer and I’ll match your donation by 50%. Trust me. You’ll feel great afterward.

Or, if you want more information about the Worldbuilders fundraiser itself, you can head to the main page HERE.

With thanks to our sponsor, Subterranean Press.

|posted by Pat 126 Comments

On not being one of the cool kids.

A lot of folks have been asking if I’m going to be at San Diego Comic Con this weekend. This is to let everyone know that I’m not.

Yes. I know. Everyone cool in all of god’s creation is going to be there. All the authors. All the actors. All the geeks of different creeds and nations. All the Joss Whedon.

I’ve never been to San Diego Comic Con before. This was going to be my first year, but in an act of true selfless love, I agreed to perform my friend’s marriage ceremony, and it happened to land on the same weekend.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it. This is one of my very best friends, the guy who helped keep me sane during the two years of burning suck that was grad school. We live in different parts of the country now, but I still miss him, and if it were possible I would transplant him here in central Wisconsin. But alas, raised in the Pacific northwest, he is like a delicate hothouse orchid. One of our winters would either kill him, or throw him into some terrible psychosis.

So I’m looking forward to the wedding…. but… well…. the whole Dr. Horrible crew is going to be there. It would have been really cool if I’d managed to get to say howdy to Felicia Day in person, buy a copy of the Guild DVD, and get the cast to sign it.

Then this morning on my daily troll through the interweb, I see that just about all my favorite webcomic artists are going to be there too. I feel like the kid who forgot his permission slip. And believe me, I know what that feels like. I was always that kid.

So if you’re going, have an extra portion of geeky fun on my behalf. Tell Joss Whedon I love him, and I’ll catch y’all there next year.

pat

|posted by Pat 13 Comments

Do Not Bounce.

So, I can’t imagine my life without Dr. Horrible. I’m dimly aware of doing things prior to watching it. I wrote a book, learned to walk, lost my virginity, etc etc. Silly things. Trivial things.

Joss Whedon. I don’t think there’s even a word for what I feel for him.

There’s awe, that’s a given, plus a vasty respect. Then those two emotions are tangled up with an odd, primal terror. I know that sounds odd, but that’s the only way I can describe it. He terrifies me. It’s the same fear a caveman would feel when confronted with, say, Opimus Prime. It’s the terror that drove people to burn witches at the stake. Why? Well, because they can do things. They have preternatural abilities that freak us out right down to the marrow of our bones.

So. You take that knot of molten awe, respect, and holy terror, wrap it up in a fluffy blanket of love, then sprinkle it lightly with toasted coconut. That’s how I feel about Joss Whedon. Is there a word for that? If not, we need one.

Were I not Pat, I would be Diogenes. Were I neither of those, I would be Joss Whedon.

But I’m not. I can’t be Dr. Horrible either. Is it wrong that I want to dress up like him? Where can I get a lab-coat like that?

I think that there might be something wrong with me….

By tomorrow I’m guessing I will have settled down a little. But right now I’m thinking I might want to do a video blog or two. But honestly, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, I am many things, but I’m no Neil Patrick Harris.

What about you guys? Would any of you be interested in seeing a video blog?

pat

|posted by Pat 52 Comments

The Day Has Come: Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog.

For you Whedonites out there, I just thought I’d remind you that the first part of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along blog is now live.

This probably isn’t a big surprise for those of you who have been reading the blog for a while, as I’ve been geeking out about it for a while.

A couple months ago might remember me talking with Felica Day. She’s Penny, the female lead. On the offhand chance that you weren’t reading a couple months ago, and you’re interested, here’s a link to the interview I gave her. And, contrariwise, here’s a link to the interview she gave me.

If nothing else, they will give you something to read while you’re waiting for Dr. Horrible’s page to load. I’m guessing it’s going to get hit pretty hard today…..

pat

P.S. By the way, let’s keep the comments section spoiler free, shall we? Not everyone will be able to watch it right and nobody likes having the good bits given away before they’ve had a chance to watch something themselves.

While I understand the desire to talk about the awesomeness of something like this, we must restrain ourselves. Sublimate the urge to say something along the lines of, “That was so cool when he blew up the sun and died at the end.” Instead, say something gushy and loving about the show itself. Extra points given for odd-but-appropriate comparisons. For example: “That was so cool that I feel like I just got to hug a kitten and eat an entire ice-cream sundae.”

Remember folks, people who give away spoilers go to the special hell: one reserved for child molesters and people who speak in the theatre.

|posted by Pat 46 Comments
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