Brett Weiss's Blog, page 31

SNES Omnibus Contributor Spotlight #1: Michael Thomasson

One of the more enthusiastic supporters of the SNES Omnibus project, and of retro gaming in general, Michael Thomasson wrote more entries for The SNES Omnibus: The Super Nintendo and Its Games, Vol. 1 (A-M) than any other contributor, and he's killin' it on Vol. 2. I’ve known Michael since the 2003 Classic Gaming Expo, and he’s been a good friend ever since. He’s a devoted family man, a fine writer, a big ColecoVision fan, and an all-around nice guy. He even designed the cover for one of my books. And he’ll talk your ear off with all kinds of interesting stories from the video game industry and from life in general. I consider myself lucky to call Michael a friend and colleague.
Here's his bio that will appear in The SNES Omnibus:
Michael Thomasson is one of the most widely respected video game historians in the field today. He currently teaches college-level video game history, design and graphics courses. For television, Michael conducted research for MTV’s video game-related program, Video MODS. In print, he authored Downright Bizarre Games, and has contributed to nearly a dozen textbooks. Michael’s historical columns have been distributed in newspapers and magazines worldwide. He has written business plans for several vendors and managed a dozen game-related retail stores spanning three decades. Michael consults for multiple video game and computer museums and has worked on nearly 100 game titles on Atari, Coleco, Sega and other console platforms. In 2014, the Guinness Book of World Records declared that Thomasson had “The Largest Video Game Collection” in the world. His businesses sponsor gaming tradeshows and expos across the U.S. and Canada.  Visit Good Deal Games.

SNES Omnibus Update: New York Times Best Selling Author John Jackson Miller

New York Times bestselling author John Jackson Miller has hopped on board for the second volume of my two-book SNES Omnibus project. He's written an informative essay on the turn-based strategy game, Super Conflict. Like me, John used to write for the late, lamented Comics Buyer's Guide and The All Game Guide (his specialty was the Intellivision). However, instead of laboring in relative obscurity like a certain other writer who shall remain nameless, he's now he's a big time celebrity in the field, penning highly acclaimed Star Wars and Star Trek novels. I'm super excited JJM took the time to contribute a story to my book. Here's his bio that will appear in volume 2 of The SNES Omnibus:
John Jackson Miller is a New York Times bestselling author. He has spent a lifetime immersed in science fiction. His Star Wars novels include Star Wars: A New Dawn, Kenobi, Knight Errant, and Lost Tribe of the Sith. He also wrote the Knights of the Old Republic comics, available from Marvel as Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic. For Star Trek’s 50th anniversary, he wrote the monthly Star Trek novel trilogy Prey. His most recent Star Wars work appears in Star Wars: From a Certain Point of View, Star Wars: Canto Bight, and IDW’s Star Wars Adventures comics. He’s written about games for the All Game Guide and as editor of Scrye magazine, and he’s has written comics and prose for Halo, Iron Man, Simpsons, Conan, Planetof the Apes, and Mass Effect. Miller writes about comics history on his Comichron website, www.comichron.com. His fiction website is www.farawaypress.com.

Celebrity Deaths of 2017 - The Ones that Impacted Me the Most

Similar to 2016, it seems like an inordinate number of celebrities diedlast year, most notably actors and musicians. Also like last year, I’ve cataloged the eight celebrity deaths that affected me the most, in order of importance. All human life is valuable, but, like everyone, I felt the sting of certain deaths more than others.
1. Adam West[image error]. During the early 1990s, when I was the co-owner of two comic book stores in the Fort Worth, Texas area, my business partner and I worked out a deal with the owner of the Dallas Fantasy Fair to have Adam West out to our store to meet and greet fans and sign autographs. Our cost was $500 to have him out for two hours, and it was well worth it. He was funny, friendly, and engaging, and his appearance generated a lot of good will for our business.
Years later, I spoke with Mr. West over the phone for an article, and he gave a great interview. If you would have told my Batman-loving nine-year-old self that I would do business with the Caped Crusader someday, I wouldn’t have believed you. Dreams do come true. R.I.P., Batman.
2. Tom Petty[image error]. When I was in high school in the early to mid-1980s, I, like many people, would purchase blank cassettes in order to record a collection of songs. These, of course, were called “mix tapes,” which were a great way to have a variety of my favorite tunes on the go, long before the era of iPods and downloads.
My best friend and I created a series of mixed tapes we called “The Ultimate Tape” (volumes 1, 2, and 3), which included tracks by KISS, Van Halen, the Rolling Stones, and others, including southern rocker Tom Petty. We listened to “Stop Draggin' My Heart Around,” one of Petty’s duets with Stevie Nicks, over and over again, and to this day it’s one of my favorite songs. I could go on and on about the greatness of the southern rocker, but I’ll let Netflix do the talking. Next time you have four hours to kill, watch the excellent documentary, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Runnin’ Down a Dream.
3. David Cassidy[image error]. As a kid during the 1970s, I spent plenty of time outside, riding my bike, going on adventures, and playing sports with friends, but TV was a steady part of my life as well, especially during cold, windy, winter months when bronchitis kept me inside. I wasted way too much time watching sitcoms, including The Brady Bunch, I Dream of Jennie, Bewitched, and, yes, The Partridge Family.
I thought Keith Partridge, as played by Cassidy, was the epitome of cool. He had perfect hair and a perfect smile, he was a rock star, and of course the ladies loved him. As someone who liked girls (a lot), but was clueless about them, and as someone who loved rock and roll but couldn’t sing or play an instrument, I would have given all my comic books, Hot Wheels, and everything else I owned to be the frontman for what I thought was a really groovy band.
4. Glen Cambell[image error]. My siblings are several years older than me and were into rock music, so as a young kid I grew up listening to such great bands as Queen, Styx, Heart, Rush, KISS, AC/DC, Jethro Tull, and Led Zeppelin. My dad was a country music fan, so I had a good education in both genres. The soundtrack for our trips to the candy store in my dad’s truck comprised such classic acts as Merle Haggard, Charlie Pride, Tom T. Hall, Johnny Cash, and Glen Campbell.
I loved songs like “Galveston” and “Rhinestone Cowboy,” and as I grew up I discovered that Mr. Campbell was not only a great singer/songwriter, but also a terrific guitarist, lending his talents as a session musician to such bands as the Beatles, the Monkees, and the First Edition. My first brush with fame was meeting Glen Campbell at a small Church of Christ in Southern Arkansas, where his brother Lindell was a preacher. We were in town visiting my grandmother for the holidays.
5. Martin Landau[image error]. I’ve never known anyone who liked Space: 1999, which features Martin Landau as Commander John Koenig, more than Star Trek, and this applies to me as well. Although it could be interesting at times, Space: 1999 was a dull show overall, especially for younger viewers. Koenig seemed dry and lifeless compared to space cowboy Captain Kirk (to be fair, this had more to do with the scripts than Landau’s likability as an actor).
However, I later became a big Landau fan, thanks primarily to his prominent role in two excellent films: Woody Allen’s Crimes & Misdemeanors (1989), where he played guilt-ridden Judah Rosenthal; and Tim Burton’s Ed Wood (1994), in which he did a dead-on impersonation of the great Bela Lugosi. The actor, who’s probably best known for the classic Mission: Impossible TV show, was also great in Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest (1959).
6. Bernie Wrightson[image error][image error]. Comic book artist Bernie Wrightson co-created DC’s muck monster the Swamp Thing, who first appeared in House of Secrets #92 (July 1971), with writer Len Wein. Wrightson’s detailed, spooky, atmospheric pencils were perfect for horror comics, and he later worked on several projects involving my favorite horror novelist Stephen King, including illustrations for the novella Cycle of the Werewolf, the comic book adaptation of George Romero’s King-scripted Creepshow (1982), and the fifth volume of the Dark Tower novel series.
Among many other projects, Wrightson also did production art for Ivan Reitman’s Ghostbusters (1984) and created 50 pen-and-ink drawings for an illustrated edition of Mary Shelley's classic Frankenstein novel. He was a true legend of the industry. 7. Bill Paxton[image error]. Born in my hometown of Fort Worth, where he promoted the film industry there up until his untimely passing, Bill Paxton was a fine actor. He not only shined in dramatic roles in such movies as Tombstone (1993), Apollo 13 (1995), Twister (1996), Titanic (1997), and the criminally underseen Frailty (2001), his comic turns in such films as Weird Science (1985), where he played the obnoxious Chet Donnelly, and Aliens (1986), where he was in a state of eternal panic as Private William Hudson, gave him a well-roundedness few actors possess.
8.Hugh Hefner[image error] . In this era of the #metoo movement, a guy like Playboy publisher Hugh Hefner is difficult to admire publicly as he’s been accused of exploiting women and sexual harassment. Also, he was kinda icky. However, as is customary when someone dies, it’s time to focus on the positive, at least for a moment. Hef was a trailblazer in the magazine industry, publishing in-depth articles (yes, many people do actually read Playboy) on a variety of topics and literary fiction by the likes of Ray Bradbury, Jack Kerouac, Norman Mailer, Vladimir Nabokov, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He was also a fierce advocate for free speech.
For better or for worse, the first time I ever saw a nude adult female was in a Playboy magazine when I was about 8 or 9. I would sneak into my teenage cousin’s room and go through the ones he had stashed in his dresser drawer. I don’t recall reading any of the articles or stories, but I do remember gazing at a busty brunette who wore nothing but red socks. What an education that was.

Free Story from My New Book: The Arcade and Other Strange Tales

To give you a taste of what to expect if you buy a copy of my new book, The Arcade and Other Strange Tales, I've decided to feature one of the stories right here on my website, in its entirety. If you like "Old Friend, Old Relic," you will probably enjoy the entire book. If you order a physical copy direct from me by Feb. 15, I will include a digital copy (PDF) for free, and of course I will sign the book if you'd like. Simply PayPal $12.95 (this includes shipping) to brettw105@sbcglobal.net. Thanks!

Old Friend, Old Relic
I hadn’t seen or even thought about Eric Lewis in at least a decade. Imagine my surprise when he pulled into my driveway late one afternoon, hopped out of his new Lexus, confident, light of step, smiling from ear to ear. This was not the Eric that I remember.I had worked with Eric at Luther’s Barbeque right out of high school—both of us had barely graduated. I worked my fingers to the nub, hacking and sawing and chopping beef, chicken, ribs, and sausage with one of those big, nasty looking carving knives.All Eric did was fry onion rings, dipping them in batter, then flour, then hot grease, pulling them from the grease when the timer went off. Our work stations were situated directly behind the front line in plain view of the backsides of the lovely young ladies who served drinks, worked the cash register, and slid the plates of food we had prepared onto trays for the customers.To pass the long, hot nights slaving in the kitchen, Eric and I would comment on the beauty, or lack thereof, of each female customer between the ages of eighteen and eighty. Every time a “woodja” (would ya? hell yes!) walked through the serving line, we would look at each other, thumbs in the air, like Siskel and Ebert. When a fatty or an ugly tramped through the line, Eric would wipe his hand on his flour-covered shirt, close his flour-covered nose, and bark, “I’d rather be a priest!”Not that Eric could’ve ever made it with any of the ladies, much less the pretty ones. He had been quite repulsive, with a round beach ball of a body, though judging from his pale skin, he had probably never been near a beach. His ghostly flesh was shaded only by a dusting of pimples across his cheeks, neck, and arms, and his greasy hair was red with embarrassment at the prospect of covering his big, misshapen head. It didn’t help that his hands always smelled like onions, even after scrubbing them with lemon juice and industrial strength dish detergent.So there I sat on my front porch, sipping my hot coffee, watching this former whale, this mammal-turned-macho man extending his muscle-rippled arm, pumping my hand, greeting me like a long, lost brother. His grip was steel.“Joshua! How the heck are ya,” Eric said, a gleam in his eye, his barely recognizable face glowing from pride instead of lack of pigment.“Eric? Eric Lewis? Good to see you. You look great, man!”Great, indeed. I could scarcely believe my eyes. Eric was now remarkably handsome. His black knit shirt and belted khaki shorts showed off an athletic build. His blazing red hair had calmed to a cool brown, and his skin was smooth and tan, not a blemish in sight.But his most striking feature was his confident smile. I had never known my old friend to open up his face to the world so free of shame and self-loathing. I couldn’t help but stare.“I know, I know,” Eric said, nodding, forgiving my open-mouthed inspection. “I’ve been getting the same reaction wherever I go. I’m in town for a few days, looking up some of the old gang.”“I hate to be rude, but what happened to you?” I waved my hand up and down his lean, but sturdy frame. I must’ve looked like one of those ladies on The Price is Right, showing off a new washer and dryer. “Have a seat, and tell me what happened.”Eric sat down on the edge of the chair facing me, his back as straight as an ironing board.“It’s interesting that you put it that way. Because something did happen to me. Something amazing and unbelievable But I swear to God it’s true.”I assumed he was going to tell me about a beautiful girl he had met who lit his fire, filling him with confidence and the will to get in shape. But before he could tell his story, my lovely wife, fair skinned with beautiful, wavy blond hair, came out onto the porch. She wore a yellow tank top and tight red shorts.After introducing herself, she offered my guest and I a couple of Miller Lights. I love mixing the hyper, caffeine buzz of coffee with the mellow, tired buzz of beer.“No, thanks,” Eric said. “But some water would be terrific.”As Linda smiled and turned to fetch the drinks, I noticed that Eric didn’t stare after her. While they were talking, he had only looked into her eyes, his gaze never wandering down to her breasts.“Watching the old waistline?” I asked, suddenly feeling disgusted with this perfect specimen who was so damned uptight he couldn’t even have a beer or a quick peak at the hotness of my wife.“No,” Eric said. “I don’t have to worry about my weight.”“Well, if you don’t mind, I like a couple of cold ones in the evening,” I said, irritation clearly coming through in my voice.“I’m not bragging or trying to make you feel bad,” Eric said. “It’s just that ever since…ever since my conversion, water tastes like the sweetest wine. The blandest food like manna from heaven.”Dear God, I thought. So that’s it. My old buddy Eric. Pot-smoking, beer-guzzling, porno-loving, barbecue-swilling Eric had found religion. Hallelujah.I found myself wishing for the evil Eric.Linda came out with the drinks, and Eric asked her to sit down and stay a while. She declined, said she had a lot of work to do, told us that we guys should get reacquainted. This time I watched her ass as she went back into the house. God, she was beautiful. A masterpiece. I clearly married up.“So,” I said to Eric, trying to avoid some kind of Jesus sales pitch. “Other than finding the Lord, what else have you been up to?”Eric smiled that new, unabashed smile. The smile I was growing to hate.“You don’t understand,” Eric said. “This has nothing to do with God. It’s going to sound ridiculous, but I’m just gonna say it. I was abducted by aliens.”I burst out laughing, but Eric’s expression remained unchanged.“It wasn’t a hostile abduction like in the movies. I wasn’t forced to do anything, and they promised me a new beginning. I was at a low point in my life and had nothing to lose, so I went with them. It happened after work one night three months ago. Believe it or not, I was back working at Luther’s. This time washing dishes—it was the only position available.”“Ha, ha,” I said sarcastically. “I believe the dishwashing part, just not the rest of the story. Why are you acting so weird?”“Anyway,” Eric said, unfazed by my skepticism and ignoring my insult. “I had worked late that night, scrubbing the dining room floors. I walked out to my car and…blah…blah…blah.”Eric droned on and on, spinning a yarn that was at once ridiculous and clichéd, right down to the little green men, the flying saucer with spinning lights, and the vast warehouse filled with…I’m not sure what. I did the best I could to tune him out, wishing I was drinking whiskey instead of beer.“I stood before rows and rows of pulsating, shimmering cubes that were hanging from the ceiling,” Eric continued, his story starting to get interesting (if still absurd). “One naked person was suspended in mid-air beside each cube, and each cube emitted a single ray of pencil-thin light, pointed directly at that person’s forehead, keeping them afloat.”I started to say some smartass remark but couldn’t think of anything. I wanted to tell him it was getting late, that I had to go inside, but I was getting a little curious to see how the story would end.“The cubes began transforming these people right before my eyes,” he said. “Beer guts rippling into cut abs, loosely hanging arm flab hardening into muscle. I watched the lady closest to me turn from a pudgy, pear-shaped old woman with saddle hips, a small chest, and dimpled buttocks into something out of Playboymagazine.”“Now you’re talking,” I said, busting his balls a little, and still not believing a word of his fanciful tale. “That’s the Eric I remember. Always talking about hot girls.”“I can fill you in on the rest later, but to make a long story short, they transformed me into what I am now. And they can do it for you. I want you to join us, old friend. It will change your life.”Although I had started to enjoy the story, my patience was wearing thin, and I was beyond ready to wrap things up. “No, thanks,” I said. “I’m pretty happy with my hideously deformed body and my mangled face. Besides, I managed to land a rather attractive wife without altering my appearance.”Eric smiled. “You look fine, and obviously you’ve done pretty well for yourself. But just imagine looking and feeling young for the rest of your time on Earth. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’m oozing with confidence and happiness. I’ve transcended my lower, baser self and reached a higher plane of existence. I’m completely free of the shackles of sexual addiction and alcoholism. I’m also free from envy, greed, jealously…”“Look…Eric…”Eric leaned toward me. “The aliens not only transformed my physical, spiritual, and mental well-being, they helped me channel my sexual energy into other areas. You can’t imagine the beauty of a life unencumbered by lust. I’m a new man. It’s wonderful.”“I’m not encumbered by anything,” I said. “I’m quite happy with things just the way they are. I like to lust.”For the first time all evening, Eric displayed an emotion other than joy. He actually looked a little sad. Suddenly, I felt guilty.“Eric…Believe me, I’m happy for you. Your new life. Your new look. Your obvious happiness. Cool story, but I’m ready to hear the truth. Did you meet someone? Join a fitness club? Get on one of those trendy new diets? Get a little work done? Botox? All of the above?”“What are you doing this Saturday?” Eric asked. “I can pick you up and take you to where the conversions take place. No obligation to do anything. Just come see what it’s all about.” “That’s enough,” I said. “Assuming the story you’ve told me is true, which I don’t believe for a minute, I’ve got a couple of questions, and then I’m going to call it a night. One, how come the government doesn’t know about this? Two, why are the aliens doing these…conversions—what’s in it for them?”“First of all, everything I’m telling you is the God’s honest truth. I can show you if you’ll just come with me. The government knows everything. In fact, they’re helping facilitate the process, but they want friends to convince friends, not make it some kind of government-mandated thing.”I rolled my eyes, but Eric continued unfazed.“Can you imagine what this is going to do for the world? Crime rates will plummet. Peace and tranquility for millions of lost souls. Most of the people the aliens have contacted are social outcasts or misfits. Ex-convicts. The homeless. Or people like me, just drifting through life with little ambition and no real purpose.”I started to tell my friend that I missed the Eric of old—the guy who told dirty jokes and bitched about everything, but instead I said, “But what’s in it for the aliens?”Eric settled back into his chair. “That’s the one big mystery, isn’t it? So far, the only thing they’ve asked us for is our bodies after we die. There’s a rumor going around that they can harness the negative energy they acquire from us and use it to make weapons of some kind for a war they’re involved in millions of miles away. A few crazies say the aliens take our souls after we die and we spend eternity on their home planet. But who cares, really? They haven’t hurt anyone, and they sure have helped a lot of people. They could help you.”“I’ve gotta go in now,” I said, standing up from my chair and stretching. “It’s been, ah, interesting. I think I’ll just stay the way I am, thank you very much. I’m happy.”“I’m sure you are,” Eric said. “But a millionaire wouldn’t turn down someone offering to put a billion dollars into his bank account.”I reached out to shake Eric’s hand, and he didn’t squeeze it quite as tightly this time. “Take care, buddy,” I said. “If you’re ever in town again, feel free to drop by. Maybe we can talk about old times instead of all this nonsense.”Eric handed me a slip of paper and said, “Think it over and call me if you change your mind.”I watched Eric go. Sadness cast a shadow over me as I walked back inside. Linda was sitting on the couch in her pink nightie watching television.“How’d it go?” she asked in her perky, dimpled way.I sat down beside her. “I’m afraid Eric is delusional. Or just has a really weird sense of humor. He told me this fantastic story about some aliens abducting and transforming him. And he was dead serious about it.”Linda nodded. “And you didn’t believe him? Even though he had changed so much?”I didn’t quite know how to respond to Linda’s question. Such a strange one considering what I told her. I patted her on the knee. “Of course I didn’t believe him.”“Joshua,” Linda said, grabbing the remote and shutting off the TV.I turned to her. She smiled and tears formed in her eyes. I couldn’t imagine what was on her mind. “Yes?”“Eric called me a couple of days ago and told me he was coming to see you. Everything he told you is true.”Linda seemed as sincere as the day she accepted my marriage proposal. I scratched my head in confusion. April Fool’s Day had already passed, and Linda wasn’t the prankster type anyway. I was speechless.“I know it sounds insane,” she said. “It sounded that way to me, too. But how else can you explain the changes in your friend? It’s more than just looks and a few pounds.”“Linda, I…”“Joshua, just listen. I became a convert more than a year before I met you. I was just too…embarrassed to tell you. Afraid you would think I was nuts. Afraid you wouldn’t marry me.”I nodded. “I’m going to bed now. I’m tired of these stories. The joke is wearing thin. Why are you playing along with this crap?”“But honey,” Linda said. “It’s true. Just think of all those awkward photos of me in high school. You can’t imagine the happiness, the glorious joy of…”“That’s enough! It’s getting late, and I’m going to bed.”I started to get up, but Linda reached out for me and gently held my hand. “Please…just listen.”I never could resist her soft touch or sweet voice.Linda spent the next hour urging me to join her and Eric and the thousands of others who had undergone the conversion. I listened quietly, as usual, buckling under to her beauty and charm, despite the fact that what she was saying was clearly insane. Or was it? When Linda was through with her sermon, I quietly told her that I appreciate her vivid imagination and her kind offer, but I just wasn’t interested in becoming some kind of Superman and that I like myself just the way I am, warts and all. I also told her I thought she liked me just the way I was.That night Linda slept soundlessly beside me as always, not moving, not snoring. I tossed and turned, wondering if what she said was true. Staring up into the darkness, I thought of our time together. Peaceful. Content. Almost entirely without conflict. Linda always waiting on me hand and foot. Never complaining. Washing dishes, scrubbing floors, eating, making love—she did all these things with zest and pleasure. No ups and downs. No bad moods. No anxiety. Just happiness and smiling. Like Eric.***A month to the day after Eric’s visit, Linda vanished like a thief in the night, taking her clothes and other belongings with her. I knew she had gone to Eric.***The aliens revealed themselves to the world a couple of years later, eventually converting more than six billion people into happy, ethical, well-adjusted, beautiful people. Linda dropped by to tell me she was sorry that she had left me and that it was not too late to join her if I would only make the conversion. But I declined. I can’t sell my soul for beauty or the love of a woman, even someone amazing like Linda.***Now, more than half a century later, I sit alone in my crumbling house. I’ve tried to have someone out to make repairs, but they never show up. My skin is wrinkled, paper-thin, and spoiled with splotches of brown and purple. When I get up from chair to waddle to the bathroom and or fetch another beer, my bones pop like sticks and my head swims.Night and day, beautiful people chanting and holding signs march back and forth in front of my house. I can’t quite make out the wording on most of the signs, but I can sure hear what the people are saying. I’m no longer wanted. No longer needed. A relic of the past. I make them nervous, uncomfortable.Some days I don’t mind the protesting so much; it’s nice to know the beautiful people are a passionate about something—that they can show some emotion other than passive bliss.On the rare occasions I make it into town, I get plenty of stares. Perfect strangers marvel at my crumpled, hunched over body and inquire as to why I never had the conversion. I look at their smiling faces and just shake my head. I know I don’t belong in this world anymore, but like a stubborn mutt with his ears chewed off, his tail a stump, and his coat bloodied, I refuse to give up the fight.I saw on television the other night that there’s a woman down in Dallas who’s also refused conversion. Good for her. I keep saying I’m going to look her up, but I’m just too tired.My bones ache, and I’m lonely. Sometimes all I can do is look at old photo albums and cry. I think back to Linda and what she tried to do for me so many years ago, and I love her for it. I know she meant well. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her and what could have been.On really bad days, when my pain medicine isn’t enough and the protestor’s shouts are like nails being driven into my head, I’m tempted to walk out the front door and join them—I’m told it’s never too late the for the conversion.But today, the pain is at bay, my mind is sharp, and I know who and what I am.My name is Joshua Lamont Evans, and I am free.

Todd Rogers - A Funny Thing Happened at a Video Game Convention

I've known video gamer Todd Rogers since I met him at the Classic Gaming Expo in Las Vegas more than a decade ago. He introduced himself and was very friendly. As many of you know, he’s been accused of fudging his scores on various games, most notably Dragster for the Atari 2600. It’s not looking good for him, and he’s been banished from the Twin Galaxies website.
At the 2015 Classic Game Fest in Austin, we posed for a pic of me holding a couple of copies of Dragster I had for sale at my booth, and him with a copy of my “100 Greatest” book. As always, Todd was friendly, but then something strange happened at the convention a couple of hours later.
I took a break from my table to go to the restroom, leaving my son Ryan to man the booth solo, and when I came back, Ryan handed me the aforementioned Dragster cartridges. Todd had come back by while I was gone and signed and dated them with a sharpie without asking. I was stunned and a little irritated. Who does such a thing?
I was tempted to confront Todd and tell him that the vast majority of the people at a typical video game convention has no idea who he is (even though he is well known within the hardcore retro gamer community), and that scrawling black all over my games was uncool. But he had always been nice to me in the past, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I guess I kinda felt sorry for him. Plus, he meant well and thought he was doing me a favor as he seemed to think his autograph would make the games more valuable.

Author Meet & Greet - Feb. 10 - Game Over Videogames Arlington, TX

Author Meet & Greet! On Feb. 10 from 2:00 to 5:00, I'll be at Game Over Videogames in Arlington, Texas, selling and autographing my books. If you live in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and are interested in a signed book, or you just want to talk retro gaming, come on by.

You can show interest or say you are going to the event on Facebook HERE.  Hope to see you there!



Game Over Videogames4648 S Cooper St #240Arlington, TX 76017(817) 468-426

RIP Curtis Newton - My Friend and Podcasting Partner

A year ago today my wife and I were headed to a press event at Nerdvana restaurant and bar in Frisco, Texas, about 45 minutes from my house. Gear Box video game company owner Randy Pitchford was going to be there (his wife owns the place), as was comedian Penn Jillette.

We were excited and enjoyed the drive out (these types of media things are usually a lot of fun), until we were just a few miles away and got the kind of phone call you never want to get. Curtis’s dear friend Tami gave us the bad news: Curtis had died.Curtis, my good friend and podcasting partner. Curtis, the tall, loud, enthusiastic guy who wanted you to enjoy life just as much as he did. Curtis, who loved Star Wars, Metallica, the Dallas Cowboys, and video games (especially the PlayStation 4 and his gamer buddies). Curtis, who loved his family and friends with a passion and showed it in his smile and words (loud words) every time you saw him. Curtis, whose three beautiful and intelligent daughters meant the world to him. Curtis, who died way too young at 43.
With Curtis’s death, my YouTube ambitions pretty much died with him. I thought we had a pretty good thing going, and Curtis had big plans for the podcast (post production, music, special guests, gameplay footage, etc.), but now we’ll never know. Far more importantly, I lost a good friend and colleague.
RIP, Curtis. I miss your loud voice (did I mention he was loud?), your big laugh, and your enthusiasm for life and video games. I miss bagging on you during our podcast, going to conventions together, and talking and laughing about all of the goings on in the world of nerdy pop culture. I never even got to scoreboard you on how Nintendo sent me a Switch and some games. That would have been a fun episode.

The Arcade and Other Strange Tales - SIGNED COPIES NOW AVAILABLE

My new book, The Arcade and Other Strange Tales, is now available. For a limited time, buy a copy direct from me and I will immediately send you a digital copy (PDF) for FREE! Plus, I will autograph the book and offer discounted U.S. shipping at just $2 (for a total of $11.95). Send $11.95 PayPal to brettw105[at]sbcglobal.net, and I will send you a signed physical copy and a digital copy. (Be sure and use the @ symbol instead of [a]). Thanks!

You can read the first few pages on Amazon by clicking HERE.
The Arcade and Other Strange Tales takes readers down a rabbit hole of fear, wonder and imagination. From the nostalgic "The Arcade" to the Orwellian “Filtered Future” and “What Do They Do While We Sleep?” to the deadly dark “Strange Children” and “Wormboy,” this book will keep anyone with a taste for "stranger things" reading late into the night (and the next night and the next).
The book has two reviews on Amazon so far:
"This collection of tales is a diverse, rich treasure trove for fans of dark fiction. Whether your taste is for sci-fi, fantasy, or horror, Weiss has something here for you. He engages each of these areas with originality and a marked intellectual approach. Fans of all three genres will devour this volume with sheer delight. And these stories are far above mere escapist mind candy--Weiss explores philosophical and existential themes without his material coming across as contrived or pretentious. These tales have something substantive to say and do more than just entertain--they also provoke thoughtful reflection.

"Stylistically, Weiss combines elements reminiscent of Poe, Lovecraft, Bradbury, Asimov, and Shelley--names I don't drop lightly. With memorable characters, authentic dialogue, optimal pacing, and plot twists that surprise while avoiding the deus ex machina pitfall, this collection of short stories is well worth your time. Highly recommended." - Jeremy H.
"Quirky, eclectic, thought-provoking collection of short fiction stories and several non-fiction entries related to video games and writing. Brett Weiss' tales are reminiscent of Vonnegut, Ellison and other masters of sci-fi, fantasy and horror. His brief introduction to each tale allows the reader insight into his inspirations. The non-fiction articles were right up my alley as a child of the 70s and 80s who watched the beginnings of the video game craze. Several of the tales were top-notch, but a couple left me not quite satisfied, hence the 4 star rating." - LAR

My Latest for CultureMap Fort Worth - PopNerdTV

Check out my latest for PopNerdTV, a fun website and YouTube channel catering to movie, comic book, and video game fans. You can read it HERE.

Video Game Dads Podcast Interview

I was on the Video Game Dads Podcast recently. We talk about my video game books and my background in gaming. It was a blast and a distinct honor being on the show. Listen in at the 1:27 mark for my interview, or listen to the entire show for more content. You can check it out HERE.