Set an even longer time ago in a galaxy far, far away, BioWare’s 2003 Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic wowed players with its compelling characters, lightsaber customization, complex morality choices, and one of the greatest plot twists in both video game and Star Wars history. But even for veteran studios like LucasArts and BioWare, the responsibility of making both a great game and a lasting contribution to the Star Wars canon was no easy task.

Featuring extensive new interviews with a host of KotOR’s producers, writers, designers, and actors, journalist Alex Kane weaves together an epic oral history of this classic game, from its roots in tabletop role-playing and comic books, to its continued influence on big-screen Star Wars films. Whether you align with the light or the dark side, you’re invited to dive into this in-depth journey through one of the most beloved Star Wars titles of all time.

“Alex Kane has written a fine book about how one the best video games ever made was created. Darth Revan, HK-47, the lost planet of Sleheyron, a charming story about Ed Asner—it’s everything you’ve always wanted to know about a truly fascinating game.” —Tom Bissell, author of The Disaster Artist

“Vigorously researched, accessibly written, and—most importantly—total fun from start to finish.” —Blake J. Harris, author of Console Wars

* * *

Take a leap of faith

When BioWare inked a deal with LucasArts to make Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, the two companies had never collaborated before. But the folks working at Lucas were big Baldur’s Gate fans, they wanted to make the Star Wars RPG of their dreams, and they took a massive risk to make it happen. The ancient setting was weird, the art felt a tad unfamiliar, and all of the game’s characters were new, original creations. Had fans not embraced the game the way they did, it might have been a creative and financial disaster. Instead, it became one of the most beloved and influential stories in the history of the Star Wars license.

Writing a book, it turns out, requires a similar leap; nobody’s going to write the precise thing you want to read, so you might as well be the one to do it. Don’t let your fears get in the way of that.

Seize inspiration

KotOR’s artists, design leads, and writers didn’t just look to the Star Wars films and the paintings of Ralph McQuarrie when it came time to carve out their own little place within that universe. They also looked at Y2K-era cinema, Dungeons & Dragons, and other rich sources of inspiration. Get messy. Read books you didn’t plan on reading; learn about stuff unrelated to your subject matter; see how writers you admire craft their most effective scenes and sentences. Your favorite Star Wars game owes a huge debt to M. Night Shyamalan: Who knows what might spark your next great idea?

Set a new course

Maybe you’re neck-deep in a second draft, things aren’t going as well as you’d hoped at the outset, and you just read a book you can’t get out of your head. Maybe now you feel completely stuck. Don’t be afraid to toss everything out and start fresh—just this once. All that work you did to get to this point still matters; it’s what got you here. But that thing I said about inspiration? It can strike at any time.

Long after I signed the contract to write a KotOR book for Boss Fight, I read The Art of The Last Jedi, The Disaster Artist, and some other great behind-the-scenes books, and suddenly I was in crisis mode: I didn’t just want to write a book about the game itself—I wanted to write the untold, human story behind it. A journalistic account drawn from fresh, oral-history-style reporting. No one had ever written about the making of Knights of the Old Republic at length, and I needed to tell that story. My editors were extremely supportive; they were thrilled to hear I was finally writing the book I wanted to write, even if it meant throwing away 15,000 words.

Interview some folks

Not every writer is an outgoing reporter type who wants to put on pants and go be social somewhere that isn’t Twitter, or even pick up the phone. Still, talking to people can be an invaluable resource—for nonfiction, for novels; for fact-checking and research; for figuring out things like dialogue, rhythm, and voice.

In my case, I wanted to tell the true story behind my favorite video game, which also happens to be a great Star Wars tale, so my book was either going to live or die on the basis of how successful I was at getting the folks who made it to talk to me. When I wanted to hear about the thinking that went into the creation of fan-favorite characters like HK-47 and Darth Revan, I called up writer Drew Karpyshyn and concept artist John Gallagher and asked them about it. Do all the research you like, and make your own observations wherever possible, but don’t forget to reach out to those who know more than you.

Trust (and cherish) your editor

I come from the frantic, fast-paced world of online journalism. I write about games and Star Wars a lot, and in order to do so well and continue to be paid for it, I have to turn in clean, focused, informative copy as fast as humanly possible. Book publishing is different; it moves at a geologic pace. And, I tell you what, you’re probably not going to produce a perfect manuscript on the first try. I would’ve been utterly lost without the help of Gabe Durham and Mike Williams, my editing duo on the KotOR project.

Writing a first book—perhaps especially one you’ve already signed a contract for in advance—is hard work, and it’s a learning experience from start to finish. You’re not Atlas shouldering the weight of the world. Give your editor a call, and trust that they know what they’re doing. I won’t pretend that writing is anywhere near as challenging as, say, shipping a role-playing game set in the world of George Lucas’s grand space opera. But you don’t have to go it alone.

* * *

Alex Kane is a journalist based in west-central Illinois. He has written for Polygon, the website of Rolling Stone, StarWars.com, Variety, and other publications. This is his first book.

Alex Kane: Twitter

Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic: Amazon | Boss Fight Books

I unabashedly adored Christopher Golden’s novel, Ararat, and called it “delicious terror candy.” So needless to say, I’m excited to read its follow-up, The Pandora Room. I expect more adventure and terror on the menu. Here’s Chris to talk about something a little different, though, something adjacent to all writers, I think: how to maintain the geeky kid within even as you grow up.

* * *

Maybe you had the world’s greatest parents, or maybe the world’s worst. Most of us fall somewhere in between, but let’s be honest—a lot of the geeks I know fell in love with books or comics or movies because they were a joyful, thrilling haven from whatever troubles might exist in the outside world. (I don’t call it the “real” world here, because to the kid I once was, the worlds of my imagination were just as real as whatever happened at school, or at home, or in the neighborhood.)

As a kid, I never found anyone who really shared my passions. My brother liked comics and monster movies, too, but his interest waned. I had the starter set for The Call of Cthulhu role-playing game but I never found anyone to play that game with me, nor did I ever have a chance to play Dungeons & Dragons (my first game was just a couple of years ago). The lack of shared interest stopped me reading comics from the age of 13 or so until I was 19 and a sophomore in college, having met roommates that helped rekindle my love for the medium and its characters. Fortunately, my love of books and monster movies never went away.

They say that when you become an adult, you’re supposed to put away childish things, but one of the common threads that binds all of us geeks is that we hardly ever bother with such “maturity,” and almost never worry about it. The reward that comes with being a grownup geek is being able to embrace the things that you love without caring what others might think. Even better, in recent years it seems that the things that we love have become the things that everyone seems to love (at least to one degree or another).

Sometimes, though, the firm embrace with which we hang onto the passionate interests of youth can mean we eschew certain lessons that are supposed to happen during childhood. Perhaps our parents didn’t teach us or maybe we simply never listened, too swept away in a video game or TV episode to pay attention to parental wisdom. The truth is that, all too often, we geeks must learn on our own, teach ourselves…be our own best parents.

It’s been my great fortune that the geeky kid I was at thirteen has grown up to make a living creating horror, fantasy, science-fiction, and mystery stories. I write comics and novels and screenplays and video games. It’s a dream come true, but like anyone else who spends his life immersed in geek culture, I’ve seen first hand that there are lots of lessons we all still need to learn. So whether you’re a fellow creator, or simply a fellow geek, here are Eight Tips for Parenting the Geek Within.

• Let the Geek Flag Fly (Without Driving Everyone Around You Insane): From a very early age, I’d be in school, irrationally excited about my peanut butter sandwich. I’d raise my hand during lunch and cry out “Whoever likes peanut butter, raise your hand!” I wanted everyone to like the things I liked. When I was in my Doc Savage stage, I wanted everyone to read Doc Savage novels (one kid did, but without much interest). As I grew older, I didn’t fly my flag quite as high, but it kept flying. So yes, absolutely, share your passion for whatever makes you geek out. Talk about Star Wars or Pokemon or comics, talk about manga or K-pop or screamo. Spread your love for Jordan Peele or Karyn Kusama or Turner Classic Movies. Weep over Game of Thrones or the return of Deadwood or season 16 of Grey’s Anatomy. But all that said, be cognizant of the people around you. Most folks will indulge your geekery even if they don’t share it, but know that just as others would be rude to cut you off too quickly or brusquely dismiss your enthusiasm, it’s equally rude and discourteous to go on ad nauseum with a soliloquy about the history and variations of the Spider-Verse with someone who really wishes you’d been succinct and finished up about twenty minutes ago. Many of us are on the spectrum and sometimes sensing how much is too much can be difficult, but you can always ask those around you. Or watch for their eyes to glaze over, and then go find the next person with whom you can share your love of any one of the thirteen doctors…or all of them!
• Celebrate the tiny successes: I wish I’d had someone teach me this when I was a kid. So much emphasis is placed on long-term goals, on what you’ll be when you grow up, on how your personal story will turn out. The grim news is that you don’t win the game of life when it’s over. Every day, every moment, presents its own opportunities for success and failure, so when you get those little successes—from finding that item you were absolutely sure you’d lost to getting a raise at work to giving someone a gift that it turns out was exactly right—you have to celebrate. I had a great moment in my career about a decade ago that my wife wanted to celebrate. She even bought champagne. I didn’t want to open that bottle; I felt jinxed somehow, that this wasn’t worth celebrating unless the end result was this huge thing that better defined success in my mind back in those days. I was an idiot. Now I celebrate the little successes along the way, and here’s why—we feel all the little failures very keenly. They cut deep. We’d be foolish not to heal some of those cuts by allowing ourselves to feel joy when we get a win.
• Play Hard, Play Fair, Nobody Gets Hurt: When I was a kid, Marvel published a legendary comic book special featuring the band Kiss. In that comic, there’s a character wandering through the pages wearing a t-shirt that says “Play Hard, Play Fair, Nobody Gets Hurt.” While I don’t necessarily believe that last part (you can still get hurt when people are playing fair but hard), the rest holds true. Comics legend Stephen R. Bissette was one of my mentors very early on and he shared a lot of hard-won wisdom with me, chief among them to understand any contract I was signing and to get everything down in writing. Fair play, friends. Be honest in your personal and business relationships, forthcoming with friends and collaborators, do the work you’re paid to do, take responsibility when you fuck up. But…play hard. Don’t let anyone make a fool of you or take advantage of your good nature. Stand up for yourself, no matter what. Obviously diplomacy is admirable, but not at the expense of your integrity or self-respect. Losing a friend or a job is nowhere near as bad as feeling resentment for the rest of your life. Play hard, play fair, nobody gets hurt.
• Look Out For One Another: This should go without saying, but sadly it can’t. In life, including geek lives, there will always be people who prey on the unwary, the innocent, the naïve. This simple credo, Look Out For One Another, covers a lot of bases. If you’re a geek at a convention and you see behavior that crosses lines, speak up or step in, bear witness, make sure those around you are safe and informed. The same goes for the rest of the world. If you know someone is a danger to others, speak up. The temptation to stay quiet, to not rock the boat, will always be there, but if your parents didn’t teach you to stand up to bullies, whether they’re bullying you or someone else, here’s your parental lesson you’ve been waiting for.
• Keep Your Hands to Yourself: Geeks come from all walks of life, and all levels of life experience, but some of us have spent less time in contact with other people, particularly those we might find exciting or attractive. Conventions are often places where hundreds or thousands of such people gather, but this point doesn’t only apply to conventions. Consent is absolute. Keep your hands to yourself. Yes, there’s a difference between the Trump and the Biden, but even the most innocent contact can be unwelcome. So even with the best of intentions, make every effort to ascertain whether or not that hug you want to give will be welcomed. Learn about consent and teach others, if you can.
• Raise Your Voice—But Lift Others, Too: Remember that little kid (me) who would raise his hand and shout “Whoever likes peanut butter, raise your hand?” It’s wonderful to share our enthusiasms with others. But don’t just celebrate your own geekeries…celebrate other fandoms, too. As my wife and I would tell our children when they were small, “Don’t yuck somebody’s yum.” Be happy that others are happy and, more importantly, know when to step aside and let them raise their hand and shout “whoever likes deviled eggs, raise your hand!” even if you’ve never tried deviled eggs, or you have and thought they were seriously nasty. This is especially true for people whose experiences and backgrounds are different from yours, and it extends into your real, day-to-day life as well. Let others speak. If those around you don’t pay attention, do what you can to amplify those different voices, passions, and interests. Be open to learning new things, new geekeries, new fandoms, and realize that our minds are often closed without us even realizing it, and they require us to want to open them.
• Honor The Kid You Were: Once upon a time, whether you were two or twelve or seventeen, you loved this show or that author or that artist. Later, you may call those things guilty pleasures and dismiss them, and you might even be tempted to sneer about them and join in when others do the same. Maybe you’re embarrassed, but this is my plea to you—don’t be. There’s a purity to those childhood emotions that you should hang onto as long as you can, forever if possible. Yes, there are limits. Some things you loved are now tainted by hindsight. I’m not talking about those things. We all have wonderful past loves, and we need to honor them. Throughout my career as a writer, certain authors have looked down their noses at my continued work-for-hire efforts, especially during times when I didn’t financially need to do those projects. But I’ll tell you something. When an editor asks if I want to write a prequel to Aliens or the novelization of Peter Jackson’s King Kong, you’re damn right I’m going to say yes. Any other answer would be an unforgivable betrayal of the kid I once was. That kid and his passions are the only reasons I have a career as a storyteller, and I’m always going to honor him. I hope you always do the same with your own younger geek self. Call them guilty pleasures if you want, but embrace them for the joy they once gave you (and maybe still do).
• No fucking spoilers: You heard me. How many times do you have to be told? If you have any respect at all for fandom, for geekery, for your own passions and those of others, you absolutely do not spoil the plots of stories for anyone else. NO SPOILERS. End of discussion.

I hope you’ve enjoyed these Eight Tips for Parenting the Geek Within. They’re just the start, of course. All of these bits of advice deserve a deeper dive, but the larger point is this—holding onto childhood passions doesn’t mean you don’t mature and learn and grow. You don’t have to “put away childish things” just because you’re no longer a child. We can all revel in the things that make us smile and get our hearts racing, all while being kind, patient, and welcoming to others. It seems simple, I know, and yet we all know that isn’t always the case.

Boy, I wish I still had my Mego Marvel action figures. My favorite was The Falcon. I liked his boots.

Whoever likes The Falcon, raise your hand!

* * *

CHRISTOPHER GOLDEN is the New York Times bestselling author of Snowblind, Dead Ringers, Tin Men, and Of Saints and Shadows, among many other novels. With Mike Mignola, he is the co-creator of two cult favorite comic book series, Baltimore and Joe Golem: Occult Detective. Golden is also the editor of such anthologies as Seize the Night, The New Dead, and Dark Cities, and the co-host of the popular podcast Three Guys with Beards. He lives in Massachusetts.

Christopher Golden: Website | Twitter

The Pandora Room: Print | eBook

Okay, listen, today it will be my blood-soaked nativity under the platinum Birthday Moon — an occurrence that only rolls around once per year, and upon this night, I slough off my skin-kite suit of soggy chitin and regrow a new human-shaped costume, and then there’s a lot of dancing and chanting and sacrifices on this anvil-shaped stone and —

Well, you already know the details.

Normally, normally I’d not dare be so bold as to ask for a Birthday Present from all y’all, and if I did, I would make it something selfless like asking you to contribute to a GoFundMe for an orphaned rabbit or to the presidential campaign of Paul Reubens (whose motto is, of course, “I know you are but what am I?!”). But this time, I’m going FULL SELFISH. I’m embracing my GREEDY MONSTERNESS. I’m showing off my rigid exoskeleton, my fringed gills, my acid plumes!

What I’m trying to say is, as you well know by now, I wrote a book.

That book is called Wanderers.

It’s about what happens when a sleepwalking disease takes over people, one by one. It’s about what that does to our country. It’s about the people — the “shepherds” — who follow and guard this slow-growing flock of sleepwalkers. It’s about the flock’s mysterious purpose. It’s a big book. A lot going on. A twisty, turny modern epic existing somewhere in the interstitial terrain between Stephen King’s The Stand and Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven.

You can find an excerpt here at Entertainment Weekly.

There is a starred review at Publisher’s Weekly, and now at Kirkus.

We optioned it for TV with QC, wonderful folks who are also behind Get Out, Us, BlacKKKlansman.

A lot of really great authors have said really nice things:

It’s coming out in about two-and-a-half months. (Which still feels like a very long time, to be honest!) So, one of the things that can really help is pre-ordering a book. Pre-ordering helps the author, but it also helps the publisher, and it helps the bookstore. It helps the whole dang bookish ecosystem. It sends a signal that the book is popular, that people are excited, and it also tells bookstores how many to order, and tells publishers how many to print, and so on, and so forth. Further, it’s also a fun present from PRESENT YOU to FUTURE YOU, and when FUTURE YOU becomes PRESENT YOU, you can thank PAST YOU for pre-ordering a book that appears almost as if by fucking magic in your life.

So, for my birthday, I’d love it if you pre-ordered the book.

And, if you’re pre-ordering print? Then it’d be swell if you ordered from an independent bookstore. Indie stores are wonderful places that curate for you, dear bibliophages, glorious fantastic meals of narrative nummies. They are community-facing places and author-friendly locations that let us, ideally, meet in the middle. An online merchant is hard to truly browse, but a bookstore can be a very special thing. And bookstores are generally staffed by knowledgeable people who know and love books. Further, once again cleaving to the selfish, I’ll note that this is how authors make the NYT bestseller list — by buying the books from independent bookstores.

Here I remind you that you can of course find the book at an independent bookmonger using Indiebound. And, please note that many booksellers — like Mysterious Galaxy, where I’ll be on July 22nd with Adam Christopher, post-SDCC! — happily ship books right to you.

Of course, you can pre-order the e-book, too —

Amazon! B&N! Apple Books! Kobo! Google Play!

And there’s always audio, via Audible.

(And I’ll get more pre-order links as they become available.)

If you pre-order, you get a gift too —

A cool SHEPHERD 1024 pin.

Of course if you were planning on nabbing it at a local library, you can always contact them in advance to make sure they’re ordering copies.

So, that’s it, that’s my BIRTHDAY PLEA to satisfy the ANCIENT BLOOD PACTS on this, my GRIM NATIVITY. You are of course, free to ignore this! But you do so at your peril, and I’d only say, sorry about the ripening boils on all your secretmost body parts. I think the book is maybe actually good? And I hope that you’ll enjoy it, should you choose to honor me and the day of my heretical emergence into your world. Ha ha I mean “our” world!

OKAY BYE.

The Misbehavin’ Maidens are a nerd-folk comedy quartet based in Maryland, known for NSFW parodies and originals about fandoms, feminism, and LGBTQIAP+ inclusivity. The Kickstarter for their third album, “Swearing is Caring,” went live April 11-May 10, 2019.

* * *

Three of us, plus our designated Booth Minion, were piled into a car, on our way to perform at a fandom convention in Virginia. We’d hit the point in the journey where fatigue had set in and the conversation had stopped flowing. Our driver, Saber, grew restless as the passengers became increasingly absorbed in their phones.

I was one of those passengers, idly scrolling through some online news, when I stopped and said, “What the FUCK.”

“What is it?” Saber asked, eager for a distraction from the tedium of I-95.

“I just found an article on… Christian swingers?”

“WHAT.” (Saber was raised a conservative Christian and now teaches sexual education at an adult toy store.)

“Some Christians are using swinging as an… evangelism tool, apparently.” (See for youself.)

“How would that even work? That is the WORST pillowtalk ever,” Saber said.

The other passengers, Flint and Maggie, snapped out of their phone hypnosis.

“‘Wow, that sex was amazing, but you know what’s better? JESUS,’” somebody chimed in. We started giggling. And then we started riffing on other terrible things to say after sex. We looped in our fourth band member, Rouge (who was stuck at work), via the group chat, and began tossing ideas back and forth.

“Like, ‘Oh, baby, I can’t wait for my wife to meet you!’”

“‘Have I got a timeshare deal for YOU.’”

“‘Mmmm, won’t you back my Kickstarter, sweet thang?’”

“‘Now, get comfortable as I set up my PowerPoint projector…’”

The laughter built, and before five minutes had gone by, Saber said, “OK, OK, I am writing this song when I get home.” And that song, “Pillowtalk,” is on our soon-to-be-released third album. (Psst, you can back the Kickstarter here!)

Our best song ideas seem to come from random, goofy banter. I was hanging out with my boyfriend and getting ready to volunteer at the library one day. As I gathered my purse and coat, the conversation became a very silly flirting sesh in which we kept trying to one-up each other with terrible, library-themed sex puns.

“My pleasure’s feeling overdue…”

“My bits are Dewey…”

“Let’s make the graphic novel section even more graphic…”

A few months later, the lyrics and music for “Bibliophilia” were finalized.

One of our lyrics is even the result of a Mad Lib we were doing in the car during an exhausting 11-hour drive home from a convention in Massachusetts. After filling in an adjective and a body part (plural), the phrase “sandpapery balls” was coined, cringed at, and eventually worked into our “Pump Shanty” parody, which is all about the importance of using lubricant.

A lot of our songs would not exist if it weren’t for us paying attention to silly conversational tangents; and writing down potential song fodder, even if it’s half-baked, can be a lifesaver during periods of writer’s block. (Side note: I recently blanked on the term “writer’s block” and said “creativity oubliette” instead, which I actually like much better. Feel free to steal that if you want.)

People writing stories and songs can find inspiration from the strangest of places – the key is to practice being open to it. When something strikes an emotional chord with you – that funny thing you saw on the subway, the nonsensical word combination stuck in your head for no reason, the Creamed Corn Incident – jot it down. You never know when it’ll come in handy.

Where are some unexpected places you’ve found inspiration?

Why yes, it’s that time again! I come into your life. I show you pretty pictures of things. But before I do, I parade before you a series of personal news items in the hopes that some of them invoke an electrochemical response in your brain and stimulate something approximating joy!

Let us begin.

In which I visit a mysterious galaxy. As I’ll likely be at San Diego Comic-Con, I’ll also get to hang out at one of my favorite bookstores, Mysterious Galaxy. My first adult-pants book-signing ever was actually at the Redondo Beach branch of the store (*pours a little on the curb for that lost store*) so I’m excited to go back to share Wanderers. I’ll be there Monday, the 22nd, and I see an event page has popped up on Facebook. I’ll also be adding some other bookstore visits to the list in the coming week or two. Keep your eyes peeled. Uh. Not literally, though, put that melonballer down.

T-Minus three months. At this point, Wanderers is less than three months away. Holy shit, how did that happen? This has been a long row to hoe, getting this book written and edited and out into the world. Did you know you can add it to Goodreads? You can.

The Continental is open. Episode two of Chuck & Anthony Ragna– uhh, I mean, The Continental? — is up. We’ve got one more to finish out John Wick, and then we’ve a new one we recorded tackling the first episode of the new Twilight Zone (“The Comedian”). Which you can watch online, for free, btw. Two other shows you should be watching, btw? Killing Eve and Billions.

And now, the photos. Here, have some more photos.

Including the titular “contented avocet.”

Which is also my spy name.

Have a nice day, folks.