Story Secrets

While the world watched for smoke above the Sistine Chapel, I was home with a fever and a head full of stories.

In this episode, I share how illness kept me grounded—but not my imagination. Inspired by the live Vatican stream and a particularly clumsy seagull chick on the roof, I wrote a whimsical short story: "The Chick on the Chimney – A Short Story About Feathers in the Vatican."

You’ll hear about a brave little gull named Pico, his parents Bianca and Bruno, and how a poop on the Pope’s chimney may have brought joy to millions. It’s a tale of fluff, flight, and fame—told high above St. Peter’s Square.

Ever wonder what happens when you follow a calling you barely understand, armed with nothing but faith, ink, and a slightly trembling hand?

In this episode, I tell a story I made up on the spot—no script, no notes, just imagination and a whisper of a world I’m slowly discovering. It’s called “Walking With Dragons,” and it follows a young novice story mage on his very first mission. Sent into the unknown by nothing more than a vague prayer and a quiet sense of direction, he arrives in a village convinced it’s under attack.

But not everything that shakes the ground is out to get you...

You can read the refined and improved version of the story on my Substack: https://fatherroderick.substack.com/p/walking-with-dragons

The conclave begins tomorrow.

In just a few days, a name will echo from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica. The white smoke will rise. The world will hold its breath.

And we’ll meet a new pope.

But what if—just for a moment—you let your imagination run a little further? What if the name announced wasn’t one you expected? What if the figure that stepped onto that balcony wasn’t what anyone saw coming?

That’s the story I ended up telling on a walk this week. I didn’t plan it. I just hit record. And somehow, out came a short story about tradition, surprise, and what it might mean when the Holy Spirit truly does something unexpected.

This is the first in a new personal challenge I’ve set for myself: one short story every day. Some will be light. Others more reflective. But all of them, I hope, will spark a bit of wonder.

You can listen to this one—the story of After the White Smoke—in this episode.

And if you enjoy it, let me know. I’d love to hear what you imagine when the smoke finally rises.

I've always believed in the transformative power of stories. Whether it's through Star Wars, the dozens of novels I read each year, or the countless podcasts and TV programs I’ve made, stories shape who I am.

But recently, something changed.

Writing my own fantasy novel—set in a mythical version of early medieval Ireland—showed me how much I still have to learn about storytelling. It’s one thing to enjoy stories. It’s another to craft one from scratch.

So I’m trying something new: I’ll be telling one story every day.

Short, 10 to 20-minute stories. No planning. Just letting creativity flow. Like a podcast, but fiction. Like morning pages, but with magic. My goal? To become a better storyteller. To practice. To experiment. To get feedback. To learn by doing.

Why should you care?

Because:

You’ll hear brand-new stories every day—some personal, some fantastical.

You’ll watch me grow (and fail!) as a writer in real time.

You might be inspired to tell your own stories too.

This is raw, imperfect, and honest storytelling. And I’m inviting you to come along for the ride.

🎧 First story drops tomorrow. Are you in?

At the start of this year, I took a crazy leap: I began writing my first fantasy novel.
I was scared — but some friendly fantasy writers encouraged me to just start writing, no matter how imperfect it would be. And wow, has it been a ride.

Set in early medieval Ireland, my story asks:
👉 What if the miracles attributed to saints actually happened — through a kind of sacred storytelling magic?

Instead of flashy spell systems like you find in Brandon Sanderson’s books, I’m inspired more by Tolkien’s fuzzy, mysterious magic.
In my story, monks and priests collaborate with angels to write magical stories into a sacred book — the Codex Fabulae — and when they read from it, miracles happen. Until... the book is stolen.

Here's what I’m working on now:

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  Finished a full 40-chapter outline (yay!)

  
  


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  Story divided into three acts, with dramatic turns and personal battles

  
  


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  Focusing on a fast-paced, cinematic style like Blake Crouch’s thrillers

  
  


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  Early medieval setting inspired by real Irish saints like St. Brendan and St. Brigid

  
  

The hardest part? Not stuffing every idea I have into the first book! I have to keep the story tight, exciting, and leave plenty of mysteries for the future.

May will be a writing sprint: a chapter a day!
I'll keep you posted. And trust me — this world of saints, story magic, and hidden battles for Ireland is one you’ll want to visit.

🎙 Curious about the deeper layers and all the behind-the-scenes struggles?
Listen to the full episode of Story Secrets — it’s all there!

I finally watched Twisters, the sequel to one of my guilty pleasures: the 90s classic Twister. And honestly? It left me feeling... underwhelmed.

Just like the original, Twisters is a popcorn blockbuster full of tornado chases, cheesy accents, and implausible survival scenes. But while the first movie had this raw, thrilling energy (and that unforgettable roaring sound design), the sequel felt like a safe remix — same story beats, less heart.

A few things stood out:

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  The main characters felt flat, and their transformations were too convenient.

  
  


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  The CGI was impressive, but somehow less terrifying than the old-school effects.

  
  


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  Big-name actors popped in and out without leaving a real impact.

  
  

It was fun, sure. But Twister is still my go-to for guilty weather thrills. Also: no Lisa Loeb music this time. Major missed opportunity!

Want the full review — including my thoughts on tornado YouTubers and why nostalgia isn't enough? Check out this week's Story Secrets podcast!

There’s this one scene in Andor Season 2, Episode 2 that made me laugh out loud… and then immediately feel bad for laughing.

It’s the moment when Cyril Karn, overwhelmed by his controlling mother, just collapses face down on the bed. Total shutdown. And yes—it has already become a meme. But what makes this scene so brilliant (and relatable) is what happens right before.

Dedra, the ruthless Imperial officer, calmly dismantles Cyril’s mother with a few sharp words—and likely a handful of well-researched family secrets. It's like watching a power play at the dinner table that feels just as terrifying as the Empire's grip on an entire planet.

But here’s the thing: this personal drama mirrors something much bigger happening elsewhere in the episode.

Director Krennic is planning to subjugate a peaceful, artistic planet—not with guns, but with manipulation. Divide the people. Fuel internal conflict. Let them destroy themselves from within. Sound familiar?

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  Fake news

  
  


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  Media manipulation

  
  


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  Leaders sacrificing people for power and resources

  
  

The parallels with real-world politics—from Russia’s tactics in Ukraine to the Panama Canal disputes—are hard to ignore. And Andor doesn’t want you to ignore them. This is Star Wars at its best: holding up a mirror to our own world through the lens of a galaxy far, far away.

🎧 Curious how deep this rabbit hole goes? I talk about all of this (and more) in this episode of my podcast. Check it out!

The first three episodes of Andor Season 2 are out—and wow, they remind me why this show might just be the best Star Wars we’ve ever had on TV.

What makes Andor stand out? It dares to slow down. It gives space for moments to breathe, for conversations to land, and for emotions to feel real—not rushed like in some of the movies.

This season jumps forward in time toward the events of Rogue One. We’re getting closer to that terrifying moment when the Death Star becomes fully operational. But the real power of the series lies in how it mirrors the world we live in today: the rise of totalitarian systems, power-hungry leaders without a moral compass, and the cost of standing up against evil.

One scene in particular stayed with me. Cassian is about to escape with a stolen TIE fighter. A young woman helps him—but she’s terrified of what might happen to her if the Empire finds out. Andor tells her something beautiful and heartbreaking:

“This is bigger than you. You know you have to do this. Even if it means sacrifice, this is who you are.”

This is the kind of storytelling that sticks with you. It’s not just about space battles and rebels. It’s about courage. About finding your role in the bigger picture—even when it’s hard.

If you’re not watching Andor yet, give it a try. This isn’t just Star Wars nostalgia. This is Star Wars at its most meaningful.

The kid is smart, often overwhelmed, and largely misunderstood by the adults around him. And yes, the film hints that his autism makes him special—even evolutionary. But in the end, he's reduced to a narrative device. A MacGuffin. It feels tacked on and shallow.

It made me reflect on my own writing. In my fantasy novel, there's a young deaf character named Brendan. He's the brother of my main character, Tighe. And after watching The Predator, I realized just how important it is to get his role right. Not just for the plot. But for who he is.

Here’s what I’m aiming for:

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  Brendan’s deafness isn’t a gimmick.

  
  


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  His difference makes him essential to the resolution.

  
  


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  The story wouldn’t work without him.

  
  


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  He brings a unique strength, not a weakness.

  
  

Representation matters. But only when it’s meaningful.

🎧 Curious to hear how a gory alien movie made me rethink character development in my novel? Tune in to the full episode.