Welcome to Sages, Mages, and Wisdom Machines. This used to be a subsection of my other Substack Publication

In addition, I’m also going to start including companion pieces after the fiction where I go over some of the philosophical or theological themes from the story. I’ll get into some of the psychology of discovery type stuff on how and why I came up with the particular story, I’ll fill you in on easter eggs you may have missed, and I’ll often include “for further study” sections where I give some resources to help you dive deeper into the ideas at play or I’ll put you onto the science fiction and fantasy stories which inspired me to write a given story. I may end up putting some of these bonus companion pieces behind a paywall and if you’re not interested in going deeper like that, no worries just enjoy the fiction. But if you like my stuff and want to encourage and support me, please do become a paid subscriber!

Alternatively, if you just want to say a one-time thanks, consider buying me a coffee:

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Whether paid or free, thanks for subscribing and for all of the encouragement thus far! Here’s my favorite (self-authored) poem (thus far):

A Wizard’s Regret

Here I sit, alone once more. 
  my staff is splintered, as said the lore.
I’ve come to find, here at the end,
  my golden thread shall not extend.
I know no elixir, nor spell, nor crimson stone,
  to keep me from passing into the veil alone.
Enemies I’ve vanquished, my rivals have died.
  To toads, stones, and vapors—I’ve transmogrified.
What’s left to weep over? What more could I ask?
  No more striving and sorrow, once I drink from this flask.
With goblins and monsters, I’ve successfully striven,
  they’ve tasted the blade, of this waning magician.
Dark wizards were routed, no sorcerers lasted,
  when we came into conflict and our magics contrasted.
Yet for what has it all been? Will the grand purpose stand?
  Was it worth letting go of my dear Shasta’s hand?
The Autarch’s seed was delivered, back to the empire, his home,
  but no second thought to it costing my most loyal gnome.
The portals I’ve closed, to the realm of the Beyonder,
  now may I find peace, on the celestial plane let me wander.
For an age they’ll remember, my legacy’s set.
  But as all flesh is prone, they’ll surely forget.
No heir of my own, as the order made certain,
  no child to mourn as I pass through that curtain.
I gave it all up, for my people and land,
  yet to do it all over, I’d wish a life simple and bland.
With Shasta held close and a son on my lap,
  I’d turn my back on this burden for which my strength has been sapped.
  Though I’ve won many battles, the greatest I’ve lost.
  In discharging my duty, my family it cost.
It’s no use now, adding tears to my potion,
  I’ll swill it all down and pass with no notion.
Goodbye to my realm, I leave you better than I found.
  Goodbye to my friends who are now in the ground.
I perform my last duty, my final obligation,
  But will I join with my order or face annihilation?
In the Gemstone of Solace, they say our essences survive,
  To the transcendentals we're united, and our ipseities thrive.
I don’t know if that’s true, and I’m not sure I care,
  but I’ve languished enough, no more days can I bare.
So with a sip I’ll be off, to the gemstone or not,
  but whatever the case, this will be my last thought:
The last thing in my mind, my last cogitation,
  if you asked me again, I’d choose love over nation.

Behind the Curtain

If you enjoyed that poem, consider buying me a coffee:

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One day I got a picture of a sad wizard sitting on a rock contemplating his life choices in my mind. I don’t know where it came from or why it popped into my mind, but it did. I immediately thought, I need to write a poem about this. A stupid sing-songy poem which nonetheless will pull on people’s heartstrings. Again, I don’t know why. I kept coming back to the idea but my inordinate number of projects continued to keep me from realizing the poem.

I continued to write the idea down in my catch-all pocket notebooks and with each entry I’d add another exclamation point after the note: “write that sad wizard poem!!!!!!!”.

Finally I decided to commission some artwork for it from an artist that my dad uses for lots of his short fiction stories (find his stuff here:

The artwork came back, and though it was a bit more Gandalf-the-gray than I had anticipated, it definitely fit the vibe I was going for.

While I like to cram as much meaning into my fiction as I can, not everything means something. “Shasta” is just an appropriate name for a wizard’s female love interest. Why? I don’t know, but am I wrong? It’s perfect!

The gemstone of solace probably came to me because I’ve been listening to Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Barbarian short stories on audible before my jiujitsu tournaments and he has a few stories with wizards and sorcerers being sucked into big gemstones.

The Beyonder is just a great name for a transdimensional being—they’re beyond us. So that’s just a generic monster-invader from another realm that the wizard thwarted, not a reference to and Marvel character or anything like that.

And then lastly, it was a delightful surprise to find that I was able to work in the word ‘transmogrified’! What a fantastic word. My dad has been using that with me and my siblings for as long as I can remember—though he always mispronounces it as ‘transmorgrify’, which he knows is wrong but he’s not going to let that stop him.

So that’s a bit of a behind the scenes on the poem. I really really like this one to be honest. It’s like a flash fiction fantasy piece in a silly sing-song cadence which might actually make some of you feel something. The key theme is very on the nose, though: don’t sacrifice your family for your career or you'll end up drinking magical hemlock by yourself on a mountainside wondering if your soul will be transmigrated to the gemstone of solace!