BY G. CONNOR SALTER

Nathan Marchand is a writer of many things. His books range from solo novels to short story collections. His stories explore genres like fantasy (Ninjas and Talking Trees), science fiction (Pandora’s Box), horror (Stone Tails), not to mention stories about kaiju (Destroyer) and other giant monsters (Mammoth Monster Mayhem). Attendees of Indianapolis’ Gen Con will know him for his regular appearances on Author’s Avenue, and his contributions from 2014 to 2019 to the Gen Con anthology Missing Pieces. He has produced or appeared on various podcasts, particularly The Monster Island Film Vault, Henshin Men, and The Power Trip: A Journey through the Power Rangers Franchise.

He was kind enough to answer a few questions.

Interview Questions

You’ve listed some of your influences as “C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Heinlein, and Orson Scott Card.” What are some ways that Lewis and Tolkien influenced you?

Lewis and Tolkien’s approach to storytelling is not to preach at people but to tell their stories, knowing that their worldviews will simply flow into their work. Stories are an extension of the author, so it’s unavoidable that pieces of themselves would flow into it. Storytelling must be a creator’s first priority, not messaging. This is why Tolkien hated allegory and Lewis had to explain that Aslan wasn’t literally Jesus Christ. It narrows and diminishes the stories. Also, Tolkien and especially Lewis have had tremendous influence on my thinking on theology, which trickles down into my work.

I’m curious, what do you appreciate about Heinlein, and do you think he’s under-discussed today?

Heinlein was a big influence on my first novel, Pandora’s Box, especially his books Starship Troopers and Friday. I became interested in him because a college friend—a fellow Taylor University Fort Wayne (TUFW) writer, in fact—described Troopers as being about the “philosophy of war” while the film adaptation was about—and pardon my crudeness—horny teenagers with guns who blow up bugs. Some view Troopers as an endorsement of fascism, but I saw it as part of the worldbuilding.

What some fail to realize is artists often use their work to sort out their own thinking, as I’m sure Heinlein did. From what I know, his politics did shift as his life progressed. His work should be viewed through that lens. It’s disingenuous to view individuals as a monolith.

You’re involved in three podcasts about Japanese entertainment (Monster Island Film Vault, Henshin Men, and Power Trip). How did you initially become interested in it?

I discovered Japanese entertainment by watching Power Rangers back in the day and discovering Godzilla one Sunday afternoon watching WGN (a Chicago TV station) at my grandparents’ house (they had cable, and my family didn’t). This, along with watching anime I didn’t know was anime, sparked an interest that blossomed when I got my formal introduction to it in college.

We’ve both had the interesting experience of going through the Professional Writing department at Taylor University. What was it like for you?

Some were intimidated by the professors, but I wasn’t. I welcomed their “tough love” approach. What I wasn’t prepared for was how hard it would be. I consistently got more A’s in my other classes than I did in my writing courses. It drove me crazy and sometimes made me question my talent. But as tough as the profs were, they never stopped believing in me, so I persevered.

What was the publishing journey for your first novel, Pandora’s Box?

I started writing it some months before starting college. I was initially inspired by the gun debates, so I took that and applied it to Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMDs). It was initially meant to be a short story, but it got too big for its britches and grew into a novel. I wrote about two-thirds of it before school, put it on the backburner for a while, and then returned to it as a project for a J-term writing seminar. I revised much of that two-thirds, finishing it a year after graduating. I sent it to one publisher, who rejected it. I sent it to another, EDGE Science Fiction and Fantasy, and heard nothing from them for six months. I called them, and they said they’d check their slush pile. Finding it there, they actually started the publishing process. After many more months of me calling and e-mailing them for status updates, I finally received a call from the owner, Mr. Hades (yes, I made a deal with the devil to get it published!), who said he would publish it. Come October 2010, and I had my first book in print! So, my advice to aspiring writers is to be tenacious. Make publishers either know you by name in the office (like I did) or take out a restraining order on you. Haha!

You’ve had books published independently and through small presses like Absolute Xpress. What are the benefits and challenges of selling the book if you’ve published it yourself?

You have to do everything yourself: editing, marketing, etc. To a certain extent, you’re in charge of distribution, too. There isn’t an entire company carrying the weight for you. In which case, I tell writers to recruit their own editors and beta readers to make sure they have a quality product. That’s the first and most important thing. That alone will make your book stand out from 90-plus percent of self-published titles. The perk is you don’t have to answer to anyone but yourself and your readers.

You’ve written solo novels, but also contribute to anthologies like A Time for Everything. What are benefits and challenges that come with working on an anthology?

One benefit is you have a community of like-minded writers working on the same project with the same goal. You can bounce ideas off of each other and support one another in the creation process, knowing each story adds to the whole of the anthology. Another perk is everyone will use their networks to promote the book, increasing everyone’s chances of getting noticed in different fanbases and markets. One challenge of working on a group project is agreeing on a shared vision. Some people simply don’t play well with others and work better solo. Or they don’t like the “restraints” of an anthology’s prompt.

You’ve contributed to the devotional series 42, which is “written by nerds, for nerds.” What are some of the biggest spiritual lessons you’ve gained from pop culture?

That all truth is God’s truth, and He can sneak it into a creator’s work even without them knowing. For example, Superman is a Christ figure (a godlike being sent from a distant world to Earth to save it after being raised by “mortal” parents, etc.). Hero stories resonate with people because they need hope in their lives. As Lewis said, “Since it is so likely that (children) will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are making their destiny not brighter but darker.” A popular sentiment derived from G.K. Chesterton says fairytales tell children that dragons are real—and they can be slain. Is that not the Gospel? Sin and the Devil are real, but Jesus Christ has defeated them, and He has empowered His followers to be victorious.

Your work seems to go between the conventional “Christian fiction” and “mainstream fiction” labels. You’ve worked on anthologies that had an explicit religious theme (A Time for Everything) and books that appeared to be aimed at a mainstream audience (Zorsam and the God Who Devours). How do you feel about the “Christian/mainstream fiction” labels?

“Christian” isn’t and shouldn’t be a genre. Genres should be defined by the characteristics of the work and not by its worldview. It diminishes the work and often forces it into a mold that hampers it. Some of the greatest works of literature—Moby-Dick, Hamlet, The Lord of the Rings, etc.—were written by Christians and didn’t need the “Christian” label. They still don’t. Many have read these books not knowing or caring that they were written by Christians. Why? Because they were artistic. They spoke to the human condition. That’s why they’re timeless and transcendent. A “Christian” label would create a wall most audiences aren’t willing to scale.

How would you say your spiritual beliefs inform your work?

As dark as some of my work gets, they are never hopeless. Good, even if only barely, triumphs over evil. Even if evil wins, there is a lesson to be learned. It serves as a cautionary tale. Redemption is possible, but justice is swift and powerful. I say that because I very much enjoy seeing my villains get their comeuppance.

Looking at your writing and interests, it’s clear you embrace things people consider literary (classic sci-fi writers like Heinlein and Tolkien) but also things often considered “just popcorn culture” (Power Rangers, kaiju movies). Do you see a highbrow/lowbrow difference, or is that snobbish?

I see it, but that doesn’t mean I like it. It also doesn’t mean that “highbrow” material is truly good. A mark of current “highbrow” media is moral relativism. Somehow, certain artists have nuanced themselves into incoherence. On the other hand, a horror story can say much about the nature of evil because the story is predicated on the existence of it. I would argue it is “snobbish” to assume “lowbrow” media is empty. On my podcast The Power Trip, my co-host, Michael Hamilton, and I gained much popularity because we took Power Rangers seriously and didn’t reduce it to “a campy kids show that sells toys.” We explained that beneath that corny exterior was a classical hero’s journey core that made it resonate with audiences then and now. That’s why it has lasted. There’s also something to be said about escapism. A work can simply transport someone out of their mundane or hard life and into an exciting adventure. Tolkien spoke highly of this idea in his essay “On Fairy-Stories.” It provides much-needed spiritual and psychological relief and opens our minds to ideas we may have not considered if they were still mired by the anxieties of life. If Tolkien supports it, so can we!

You’ve also worked on what used to be called “round robin” books like Destroyer where each author writes a chapter. What’s that process like for you?

Destroyer was part of what my writer friends called “the pulp fiction project,” where we were to take turns writing one-third of a 30,000-word novella. Destroyer followed that to a T.

I wrote the first third and left some guidelines for the remaining writers. They had to stretch themselves—especially Natasha Hayden—writing genres they weren’t used to. Once it was done, it fell to me to make the book gel as a whole, which was easy with this one—compared to Zorsam, which also came from this project— because each author made an equal contribution, so all I had to do was mark each new section. There’s a level of humility one must take with a project like this: it’s not just your vision.

You’ve been a part of the Gen Con author community for a decade now. What are some things authors gain from being involved long-term with a convention?

It allows you to create an audience at that show. I have readers who come see me to buy new books every year. It also gives you a chance to network with other writers you see every year, which can lead to other opportunities. You can also network with potential new readers by hanging out with people as a con-goer at convention events. That’s why I always have business cards at the ready to hand out to people.

You’ve worked multiple times with Nick Hayden—both of you contributing to the Children of the Wells series, and also to short story collections like The Day After and novellas like Zorsam and the God Who Devours). How did you meet?

At TUFW! He was a senior when I started. He was also the editor of the school newspaper and the “leader” of the writers club there. Without Nick, I wouldn’t have survived my tough freshman year and may have given up on being a writer. When I didn’t believe in myself and thought I had nowhere near the same amount of talent as him, he humbly reminded me that I was still a good storyteller. Nick hasn’t a single pretentious bone in his body.

Working multiple times with writers seems to be a recurring theme in your work. For example, you’ve also worked several times with Ben Avery, appearing on his podcast Strangers & Aliens and in his book A Time for Everything). Do you seek out writers you want to work with long-term, or is it more of a happy accident?

Both, although more often, I’m invited to collaborate. I do have ideas for anthologies, but wrangling interested parties can be challenging. That’s why it helps that I’m a rare extroverted writer.

What are some benefits to working with writers you have known over several years?

You know you’re on the same page, and if there is a disagreement, it’s unlikely to break the friendship. We trust each other as people and creators, which makes it easier to work together.

You run a vlog series called But I Digress, where you’ve discussed fun things like superhero films, but also publishing topics like selling books at conventions. What have you found to be the biggest challenge of selling your work?

If you’re not a known name (like Stephen King), you have to work a bit harder to sell your work. That’s why diversifying your work and the type of work you do can be beneficial. Making YouTube videos or podcasts can attract audiences organically, and if they like your content, they’ll buy your books. I have a fan who started listening to one of my podcasts and then went and listened to all three of them plus all my friends’ podcasts—and he bought all of my books! It’s exciting and humbling to see that. It can also bring on Imposter Syndrome, which I fight often.

What’s something that has really helped you market your work?

Personal interaction, whether that’s in person or online. It shows that you’re a real person and not some distant figure on a hilltop churning out pages from his typewriter and scattering them into the wind for people to find.

Any future projects you can share with us?

So. Many. Projects! I’m working on several books with the goal of tying up all the loose ends in my current series, but the most immediate book is an urban fantasy-romance called There Sleeps Titania, which is about a smalltown guy who falls in love with a reclusive woman who turns out to be nymph tied up with the machinations of Greek gods. I’m also producing my first full-length audiodrama later this year with Scyther Inc. Productions, which creates fan-made podcasts for Power Rangers and X-Men, among others. It’ll be the origin story of a popular villain I played on Power Rangers: The Audio Drama named Rito Bandora (aka Rito Revolto in the original show). That’s not including my ongoing podcasts and a new one starting this summer. (Did I mention I tend toward workaholism?)

More information about Nathan Marchand can be found on his website and Facebook page.