Story Secrets - A Spooky Adventure with Heart: City of Ghosts Review

The other day I watched The Predator—not the classic one with Schwarzenegger, but the confusing 2018 sequel that somehow ended up in my Netflix queue. The film tries to tackle neurodiversity, with a young autistic boy at the heart of the story. Tries... and mostly fails. 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: Brendan’s deafness isn’t a gimmick. His difference makes him essential to the resolution. The story wouldn’t work without him. 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.

At the end of the first quarter of 2025, I'm ready to take the next step in my creative journey. For the past three months, I’ve been working hard on writing a fantasy novel – a project I’ve dreamed about for years but never dared to start. It’s been tough, but also incredibly rewarding. The truth is, writing can be a lonely process. I spend hours at my desk, conjuring up characters and stories only I know. And while I talk about the process on my Booktube channel, I’ve realized I want to share even more of this journey. What if instead of waiting until the book is done to share the story, I share the chapters as I write them? It sounds terrifying but exciting at the same time. And it makes the whole process feel much more manageable. Here's the plan: I’ll release the audiobook version of my story chapter by chapter on my Story Secrets podcast feed. I’ll also share behind-the-scenes content and story walks for my supporters in the private community. It’s a chance for you to join me on this journey from day one, and to be part of the creative process! I’m incredibly excited but also a little scared. Sharing an unfinished story is like giving someone a peek into my mind – flaws and all. But I believe this experiment could be something really special. So if you want to be part of this new adventure, stay subscribed to the podcast and join the community on my Discord server at FatherRoderick.com/discord. More updates are coming soon! And if you’re feeling generous, your prayers for this crazy, creative experiment would be much appreciated.

Have you ever wondered why some of your favorite movies feel so authentic, even when you know it’s all make-believe? Take Titanic, for example. Part of what made the acting feel so real was the genuine fear of the actors and extras filming scenes in massive water tanks, with entire sections of the ship tilting and throwing them into the water. Talk about dedication to realism! It’s stories like this that fascinate me. I’ve always been drawn to how movies are made—the triumphs, the disasters, and all the creative problem-solving that goes on behind the scenes. Reading books and memoirs about how classic movies were filmed has taught me so much about storytelling. And when you find out what went wrong with some of the biggest blockbusters, it gives you a whole new perspective on why some of them ultimately work and others flop. Recently, I discovered a podcast that scratches that exact itch. It’s called What Went Wrong and it’s hosted by Chris and Lizzie, a dynamic duo with great humor and tons of research skills. They dive into famous movies like Titanic, Predator, Blade Runner, The Fifth Element, and even The Godfather—revealing all the behind-the-scenes drama that studios prefer to keep under wraps. For example, did you know Predator was a nightmare to film because of the low budget and grueling conditions in the jungle? Or that Blade Runner was so miserable to make that Harrison Ford hated the experience, especially filming at night in the rain for months? And then there's The Fifth Element, which, despite its quirky brilliance, carries a weird undertone once you learn about its director’s personal life. Every episode of What Went Wrong makes you want to revisit these films with fresh eyes. It’s like discovering a hidden layer to movies you thought you knew inside out. So, if you’re a movie nerd like me and love discovering how the magic (or sometimes the disaster) happens, go check out What Went Wrong. You won’t regret it.Link to the podcast: What Went Wrong

Here on the Story Secrets podcast, I’ve reviewed movies, TV shows, books, and even video games. But this time, I’m diving into something I’ve never talked about before: a theatre play. And not just any play, but Shadowlands by William Nicholson. You might know this story from the movie adaptation starring Anthony Hopkins, but I haven’t seen the movie. Instead, I listened to an audio recording of the stage performance. What makes this play so fascinating is its focus on C.S. Lewis. Yes, the same C.S. Lewis who wrote The Chronicles of Narnia. But this isn’t about Narnia’s magic and wonder. It’s about something far more personal and heartbreaking – his real-life relationship with Joy Davidman and his struggle with grief after her death. This is the story behind his book A Grief Observed. The play starts with Lewis meeting Joy, a brash, direct, and creative American woman who is a huge fan of his work. Their cultural differences make for some hilarious and awkward moments. Lewis is this introverted, socially awkward academic, while Joy is loud, confident, and unapologetically herself. But it’s her sincerity and courage that slowly break down his walls. But what makes this play hit so hard is when Joy becomes seriously ill. Suddenly, the fantasy Lewis created in Narnia seems powerless against real-life suffering. And that’s what this play explores so well: the tension between imagination and reality, faith and despair. It’s gut-wrenching but incredibly beautiful. William Nicholson, who wrote this play, is an absolute master of his craft. He understands Lewis so well that the dialogue feels like you’re listening to the man himself. And Joy? She’s brought to life with such authenticity and spirit. It’s all the more impressive knowing this play was based on their real-life correspondence. So, would I recommend it? Absolutely. If you want to explore a side of C.S. Lewis you may not know and be genuinely moved by his journey, Shadowlands is worth your time.

What if you could actually talk to ghosts? Not just in some spooky, fake haunted house on a Halloween night, but for real—crossing over into the world of spirits, building friendships with the dead? That’s the brilliant premise of City of Ghosts by Victoria Schwab. And it’s more than just a cool ghost story; it’s a story about identity, friendship, and finding your place in the world. The book follows Cass, a young girl who, after a near-death experience, gains the ability to cross over into the realm of the dead. And her best friend? Well, he’s a ghost! The story is set in Edinburgh, a place rich with paranormal legends. And of course, her parents are TV hosts chasing ghost stories for their hit paranormal show. Talk about awkward family dynamics! What I love about Schwab’s writing is that she’s not writing just for the market; she’s writing for the kid she used to be—someone who didn’t quite fit in, someone who felt different. Cass’s journey feels like an invitation to anyone who has ever felt out of place. It’s a charming yet eerie tale with deeper themes of life, death, and friendship. And it’s not just all atmosphere and spooky vibes. Schwab knows how to raise the stakes and keep the tension high without feeling cheap. There’s a real sense of danger and mystery that drives the story forward. Plus, she wraps things up in a satisfying way while leaving room for more adventures. It’s a skillful balance that many writers could learn from. If you’re looking for a quick, fun, and slightly spooky read, City of Ghosts is worth checking out. And if you enjoy it, there’s a whole series waiting for you!

Yesterday, I experienced something truly amazing. I played the first stage of a VR game on my Quest 3, based on the legendary gaming franchise Assassin’s Creed. Now, I’ve played parts of previous games, but this was something else entirely. This was the first VR version of the game, called Assassin’s Creed Nexus, and it completely blew my mind. The franchise is known for its deep, history-inspired storytelling. From ancient Jerusalem to Renaissance Italy and even ancient Greece and Egypt, it’s always been about immersing you in another world. But this time, the immersion was at a whole new level. You start off in the present, using this incredible technology that lets you travel back in time. Suddenly, you’re in Renaissance Venice. You look down, and you’re wearing Renaissance clothes. Your hands aren’t your hands, but they move exactly like yours. You can reach out, pick up objects, even open drawers to find historical artifacts like a miniature airplane designed by Leonardo da Vinci. The sound, the visuals, the interaction—it all feels so real. And it's not just photorealism; it’s the sense of discovery, of being there. I’ve played my share of VR games, but nothing comes close to this. The Quest 3’s crystal-clear lenses make every detail pop. The best part? It feels like stepping into a well-written book. You’re not just watching or reading the story. You’re in it. And it got me thinking: as a storyteller myself, what if I could create something similar? What if my fantasy novel’s story magic could also take people to other worlds, across different eras? I have a ton of ideas now, and I can’t wait to start exploring them. But the real magic of VR is how it lingers. Even after I took off the headset, I was still partly in Venice, just like how a good book stays with you long after you’ve put it down. Want to join me as I experiment with all these new ideas? Make sure to follow me and sign up for my mailing list at fatheroderick.com/free to be part of this new creative adventure!

Wow. The Season 2 finale of Severance was nothing short of brilliant. Apple TV+ has done it again, delivering a masterpiece that feels like the best thing since Lost. But unlike many mystery-box shows, Severance gives you answers while keeping you hooked with even more questions. At the heart of this show is the creepy and mysterious Lumon corporation, where workers undergo a procedure to "sever" their consciousness. This creates two separate identities: the "Innie" who only exists inside the company, and the "Outie" who lives life outside with no memory of their work life. But here’s where things get really fascinating: these Innies develop their own personalities, goals, and emotions—sometimes conflicting completely with their Outies. Season 2’s finale raised some major philosophical questions: What defines a person’s worth? Are these Innies any less human just because their lives are limited to the workplace? Are people only valuable because of the work they do? The series makes you think hard about the dignity of human life and how easy it is to diminish someone’s humanity when you’re only focused on productivity. The finale brought so much emotion and intensity, including some shocking moments of violence that felt earned rather than gratuitous. And the cinematography? Absolutely stunning. From the symmetrical framing to the retro aesthetics, it’s clear Apple is pouring serious money into making this show a work of art. Now, we have to brace ourselves for what looks like a long wait until Season 3. But I’m willing to bet it’ll be worth it. In the meantime, I’ll be obsessing over the theories and unanswered questions left dangling at the end of this season. What do you think about the Season 2 finale of Severance? Let me know!  

If you were addicted to ER back in the day like I was, you might want to check out The Pit. It’s a new medical drama starring Noah Wyle (Dr. Carter from ER), and it has that same chaotic, high-intensity energy—but with a much darker, grittier edge. Set in the emergency room of a major city hospital—nicknamed The Pit because it feels like a war zone—this show dives deep into the brutal realities of healthcare. Overcrowded waiting rooms, patients left in hallways, doctors stretched to their limits. It’s not just a case-of-the-week drama; it’s an ongoing, relentless story where one shift bleeds into the next. One of the most interesting storytelling choices? Each season covers just one day in the ER. Every episode unfolds in real time, so you feel the exhaustion, the urgency, and the weight of the choices these doctors have to make. And just like in ER, the camera work is incredibly immersive—you’re right in the middle of the action, feeling every second of the chaos. I’ve only seen the first episode, and already, I can tell this is going to be an emotional rollercoaster. If you’re looking for a show that pulls you in and doesn’t let go, The Pit is it. Have you seen it? Let me know what you think!

Have you seen the first episode of Wheel of Time Season 3? Amazon dropped three episodes at once, and I’ve watched the first one—and wow, they have seriously stepped up their game. For those unfamiliar, Wheel of Time is one of the most famous fantasy book series out there. Robert Jordan started it, crafting an epic world where history repeats itself in cycles, and where magic is woven—literally—by powerful women. It’s complex, sprawling, and honestly… a bit overwhelming. Jordan passed away before finishing the series, and Brandon Sanderson stepped in to complete it. I made it through four books before getting lost in the sheer scale of it all. So when Amazon announced a TV adaptation, I was relieved. Finally, a more digestible version of this massive saga! The first season was decent but clearly constrained by budget. The second season improved in every way. And now? Season 3 has blown me away. The opening scene alone is jaw-dropping: a brutal attack on the White Tower (the Vatican of magic-wielding women), filled with betrayal, action, and chaos. It’s dark, intense, and way more graphic than previous seasons. And for the first time, I have no idea what’s coming next—this part of the story goes beyond the books I’ve read, which makes it even more exciting. If you’ve been on the fence about Wheel of Time, now is the perfect time to jump in. Let me know what you think of Season 3 so far!

There’s a new series on Netflix that’s suddenly blowing up, even though it wasn’t really advertised. No big promotional campaign, no flashy trailers—just word of mouth making it explode in popularity. And after watching the first episode, I totally get why. It’s called Adolescence, and at first glance, it sounds like a typical crime drama. A 15-year-old boy is arrested for a brutal murder, and we follow the police as they interrogate him. Sounds like a whodunit, right? Well, not exactly. The real magic of Adolescence isn’t just in the story—it’s in how the story is told. Every single episode is filmed in one continuous take. No cuts. No editing tricks. Just an uninterrupted, real-time experience that makes you feel like you’re actually there. Think about it: The camera follows the action through actual houses, up staircases, into the police station, through the interrogation room. The actors—hundreds of them—stay in character for 40 minutes straight. And somehow, nothing ever goes wrong. It’s insane. The only time I’ve seen something similar was an episode of ER that was filmed live (yes, I was addicted to that show). But this? This is on a whole new level. The cinematography is mind-blowing, and the performances—especially the young actor playing the accused teenager—are some of the best I’ve ever seen. If you’re tired of Netflix’s overpriced, overproduced, and often underwhelming content, Adolescence is the perfect reminder of why we still subscribe. Let me know if you’ve seen it—I need to talk about this with someone!