Tea & Tangents

Off-topic ramblings, thoughts, and musings over tea

Movie Review: Fantastic Four First Steps (2025)

/ RG Newhouse / Leave a comment


We went into Fantastic Four: First Steps expecting solid superhero fun. What we got? So much more. As a family, we all walked out grinning, impressed, and more than a little emotionally invested.

So yes, I guess I’m writing movie reviews now. (No spoilers ahead, I promise!)

The main cast of Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) in their iconic blue suits, standing in front of a futuristic city backdrop. From left to right: The Thing, Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Sue Storm, and Johnny Storm with his hand ignited in flame.
This team? They understood the assignment. Reed’s awkward brilliance, Sue’s fierce brain-and-heart combo, Ben’s big softie energy, and Johnny actually doing something useful for once? 10/10 would watch again.

Let’s get this out of the way: there were a few slightly uncanny valley CGI baby moments. You’ll spot them. They’re weird. But they don’t derail anything. From start to finish, this film moves with confidence, delivers real heart, and captures that classic superhero storytelling feeling that so many reboots miss.

Let’s talk characters.
Everyone in this film felt real. Not just a team of tropes or a group of personalities shoved together to hit quota… but a family. Ben’s emotional arc? Subtle but incredibly satisfying. Johnny, usually stuck as comic relief or teen heartthrob wallpaper, was finally allowed to be a full character with depth and purpose.

And Sue. Sue Storm was everything. This version gave her space to show her intelligence and her compassion in equal measure. She wasn’t sidelined. She led in her own right. It felt honest, earned, and powerful.

Now let’s talk about Pedro Pascal’s Reed Richards. He brought a wonderful awkwardness to the role, but with such emotional depth. There was a gentleness to his performance that felt deeply human, even when he was stretching in impossible ways. You could truly feel the chemistry between Reed and Sue, which made the entire dynamic feel grounded and believable.

The worldbuilding and effects?
Incredible. The sets were lush, layered, and alive with detail. The effects hit where they needed to, and the movie resisted the urge to go full spectacle over substance. Every major visual beat felt earned, and more importantly it felt real within the world.

The movie also dishes out enough easter eggs to make even the most die hard Marvel fan pause, wish they could rewind, and theorize. (Screen Crush clocked 161… yes, really!) And let’s talk about that Stark Tech nod. We caught it, we squealed. Also? Move over, Howard Stark… Reed built the flying car you only talked about. Step aside, old man, the nerd king has entered the chat.

The vibes.
There were scenes where the whole theater went quiet… holding our breath… and moments later, the room burst into laughter or applause. That’s not just good editing, that’s emotional rhythm done right.

It’s not perfect (again, looking at you, CGI baby), but it’s the kind of film that reminds you why superhero stories matter. Why we keep coming back to them. Why they work when they’re done well.

If you’ve been burned by previous Fantastic Four outings, give this one a shot. It’s got humor, heart, tension, and just enough weirdness to keep things fun. Highly recommend it.

Verdict: A total win.

I’m probably going to go see it again… and again… and probably one more time for good measure. I haven’t been this captivated since Avatar.

A Quick Update from Under the Blankets

/ RG Newhouse / Leave a comment
A cozy, storybook-style illustration of a sick writer wrapped in blankets on a purple couch, surrounded by tissue piles, tea mugs, and a laptop. A black cat perches on the couch, an orange cat naps nearby, and a fluffy white plot bunny peeks out from under the blanket.
Even sick days have their squad… black cat supervisor, orange cat heating pad, and Barnabas the ever-watchful plot bunny. Blogging may be paused, but the chaos continues.

Hey friends,

Just popping in with a quick update. I’ve come down with something fierce and am currently buried under a mountain of tissues, tea mugs, and regret (for not dodging whatever germ decided to body-slam me this week).

That means blog posts are on a short pause while I rest and recover. I’ll be back at it as soon as I’m upright and slightly less plaguey.

In the meantime, feel free to catch up on any posts you’ve missed and if you’ve got any magical cold remedies, drop them in the comments. (Bonus points if they involve chocolate.)

See you soon, once I’ve won this battle with the microscopic forces of doom.

Stay cozy,
RG

How I Built a Writing Routine That Works (Even with Cats and Tea Breaks)

/ RG Newhouse / Leave a comment

Every productivity article says to write at dawn but my muse doesn’t even yawn until after lunch. I don’t rise with the sun; I rise with purpose, caffeine, and a cozy recliner calling my name.

A cozy reading nook at night with a blonde woman in glasses, wearing a pink fuzzy sweater and fluffy slippers, sipping tea while reading in a green armchair. A black cat perches on the chair’s back, and an orange tabby sleeps curled in her lap. The room glows with warm golden light, surrounded by books, plants, and a large window filled with dreamy sparkles.
Comfy clothes, cats, and a good book… just a typical evening in the creative cave. Bonus points if your tea is still warm by the second chapter.

My writing sweet spot hits in the early afternoon. By then, I’ve had enough orange pekoe to revive a Victorian ghost and settled into my fortress: the recliner, a favorite pillow, fan on low, and a cozy quilt wrapped around me like a burrito of ambition. If the weather cooperates, I’m rocking one of my five oversized sweatshirts and fluffy socks. (In summer, it’s more sweat, less shirt. Sorry, vibe.)

Of course, no writing session is complete without feline interference. My black cat, Nyx, usually looms over my shoulder like a gothic editor. The orange menace, Finnegan, curls in my lap and periodically stomps across the keyboard to contribute his own chaotic edits. Nothing like deleting a line of “asdghjklfjzzzz” to really get you back in the flow.

Music is a must. My playlists shift depending on what I’m writing, right now I’m deep into the K-pop Demon Hunters soundtrack. I’ve got curated lists for everything: battle scenes, flight scenes, love scenes. Basically, if it could be in a movie montage, I’ve got a playlist for it.

Before I begin, I light a lavender and vanilla candle, not for aesthetics (okay, maybe a little), but to calm my brain and signal it’s writing time. I warn the household that I’m “in the zone,” so if I give them a glazed look while muttering something about magical daggers or dragon politics, they know not to ask follow-up questions.

At the end of the day, my goal is simple: move the story forward. Whether it’s building worlds, writing actual prose, or just figuring out why my villain has so many monologues, I count it a win. Words were wrangled. Cats were managed. Sweatshirt was cozy. That’s a good writing day.

Is it ideal? Nope. Is it effective? Most days. But hey, writing routines are as weird and personal as the stories we tell… so let’s talk about yours.

A cozy writing corner bathed in warm light, filled with stacks of books, flickering candles, and a steaming mug of tea. A black cat naps on a pile of notebooks next to a comfy chair draped in a pink blanket. Open journals and handwritten pages sprawl across a cluttered wooden desk.
Every chaotic writing session deserves a peaceful cat, a hot drink, and a few too many notebooks. Bonus points if the candles are scented and the snacks are within arm’s reach.

Not Sure What Your Routine Looks Like Yet?

That’s okay. Every writer’s routine is as weird and personal as their browser history. Here are a few suggestions if you’re still figuring yours out:

  • The Playlist Experiment: Try a different genre for each writing sprint. Medieval lute? Lo-fi beats? Screamo? Who knows, maybe your romantic subplot just needed heavy metal.
  • Designate a Writing Throne: Couch, bed, coffee shop, bathtub tray with a laptop stand, if it feels good and you’re productive, that’s your spot. No judgment.
  • Bribery Works: No words, no snacks. Five hundred words = one cookie. Or a TikTok scroll. Or a sticker. Motivation is motivation.
  • Dress for the Draft You Want: Put on a blazer if you want to feel like a literary genius. Put on pajamas if you want to feel like a gremlin with a dream. Both are valid.
  • Time It Weird: Write at sunrise, write at midnight, write during your lunch break in your car. Find your golden hour and claim it.
  • Create a Ritual: Light a candle. Stir your coffee three times counter clockwise. Pet your dog for exactly 37 seconds. Rituals help trick your brain into writing mode.

Whatever routine you land on, normal, feral, or somewhere in between, if it gets the words down, it’s the right one for you.

A whimsical illustration of a very plump, fluffy bunny lounging next to an open writer’s notebook and a steaming mug of tea in a cozy cottagecore writing nook. The bunny has oversized ears and a cheeky expression, surrounded by scattered notes, pencils, and warm candlelight.
Barnabas, my plot bunny, absolutely stuffed with story ideas and not the least bit sorry about it.

Now It’s Your Turn!

What weird, wonderful, or wildly specific rituals help you summon the Muse? Do you light candles and wear lucky socks? Or do you sneak in five minute sprints while stirring the pasta?

Drop your favorite habits, hacks, or hilarious fails in the comments… I’d love to hear how you write.

Fixing Plot Holes in Fantasy Writing (with Help From the Next Generation)

/ RG Newhouse / Leave a comment

I was elbows deep in Wind Riders fantasy worldbuilding, notes everywhere, cats prowling, tea long forgotten, when my daughter wandered in and casually asked, “What are you working on?”

A cluttered writer’s desk filled with open notebooks, fantasy maps marked with red string, scribbled notes, scattered books, and a cup of tea under a warm lamp. The scene evokes cozy chaos and deep worldbuilding focus.
Where the chaos begins… notes, tea, and the occasional cat. (Image created by Midjourney)

What followed was a two-hour lore-dump-turned-interrogation that felt like a surprise writing sprint disguised as a conversation. Nyx the cat was displaced so she could take a seat (and gave us both the look of betrayal only a black cat can muster, complete with a drawn out whine of protest. Poor baby.), but the moment she sat down and started asking questions, something clicked… and kept clicking.

We talked through the Cataclysm, the rise of the Riders, the floating islands, and the process of fixing plot holes and developing stronger character arcs, bringing life to story ideas that had been gathering dust. The next thing we knew, two hours had passed. By the time we looked up, we’d unraveled the antagonist arc, reshaped a love interest dynamic, and, somehow, figured out how the first book ends.

I’m not going to tell you that part. Not yet. But I will say that somewhere between her raised eyebrow and my rambling, I realized something big: this isn’t a standalone story.

It’s a trilogy.

What started as a standalone suddenly stretched its wings. There were too many threads, too much heart, to wrap in one book. And somehow, that made it all feel more real.

You know that feeling when a puzzle piece slots in and suddenly the whole picture shifts into focus? That. It reminded me how powerful it is to talk things out with someone who isn’t inside your head. I’ve always been a worldbuilding-first kind of writer (you can read more about that here), but getting outside input shook loose some things I didn’t even realize were stuck. Bouncing ideas off someone who isn’t emotionally attached to that one scene you refuse to cut, or the backstory you secretly wrote five pages for? Invaluable.

A whimsical sky town perched on a large floating island above the clouds. Wooden bridges, windmills, lanterns, and rustic buildings glow in soft golden light as birds soar across the sky.
The kind of place my Wind Riders would call home… lanterns, walkways, and just enough altitude to make things interesting. (Image created by Midjourney)

And when that someone gets into it too? Starts pitching scenes back at you like a pro? It’s like biting into a story filled bonbon, surprising, rich, and just the right kind of sweet.

So yes, I got grilled today. Lovingly. And the result is a better story, a clearer arc, and a brain that’s buzzing with the kind of excitement that only comes from brainstorming a fantasy trilogy that finally works.

(Nyx remains unimpressed. I owe her a treat. Worth it.)

Worldbuilding: A Cautionary Tale in Too Many Tabs

/ RG Newhouse / Leave a comment

Worldbuilding starts innocently enough. You name a kingdom. Maybe draw a map. Maybe throw in a couple of gods, a weird storm, a family tree with just enough trauma to be narratively satisfying.

A cozy, cluttered writer’s desk bathed in soft light. A black cat lounges across hand-drawn fantasy maps and scattered notes. A pink teacup sits nearby, surrounded by vintage books, wildflowers, and the charming chaos of worldbuilding.
Nyx, in her natural habitat: guarding the map she will never let you finish. Somewhere under that paw is a vital plot point. We’ll never know. Image created by Midjourney.

Then one day you blink and realize you’ve written a 3,000 word document on sky island crop rotation. You can’t remember your own birthday, but you know which fictional provinces export fermented windfruit and why their trade alliance fell apart in Cycle 617.

This post? It’s a love letter. And a warning.

People think you have to know everything before you start, but if you did, we’d all be frozen in “research” mode until the sun exploded. It doesn’t need to be logical either, it just needs to feel true to your world. And no, it’s not just for fantasy authors. If you made up a cozy town with suspiciously nosy neighbors and a bakery that mysteriously never runs out of raspberry scones… congratulations, you’re one of us.

Worldbuilding is part chaos magic, part archaeology. You’re not building a world, you’re excavating one you barely understand, with a pen instead of a shovel and caffeine instead of common sense.

It’s balancing six cultural systems, a magic rule you regret inventing, and a civil war you vaguely alluded to in chapter two that now demands three pages of backstory and a hand drawn battle map.

It’s naming things like a drunk linguist. It’s opening your notebook and realizing you’ve contradicted your own timeline in three different places and somehow invented a holiday that happens every thirteen days.
It’s divine, maddening, and wildly inefficient.

And sometimes… it’s dangerous.

A cozy cottagecore writing desk in warm, natural light. A long orange cat sprawls across open notebooks filled with fictional alphabets and scribbled translations. A tipped pink teacup stains scattered parchment, while quills, ink smudges, and wildflowers complete the scene of whimsical worldbuilding chaos.
Finnegan, master of stretching, spilling tea, and rewriting your language system with one well-timed flop. Chaos is his comfort zone. Image created by Midjourney.


Because once the worldbuilding black hole opens up, it sucks you in. Suddenly it’s 2 a.m., your eyes are dry, your tea is cold, and the story you meant to write has been sitting untouched like a gentleman caller you stood up on the porch, in the rain, with flowers. And bless it, the poor thing’s still waiting for you.

But despite all that, there’s this moment, if you’re lucky, when you zoom out and realize it all fits together. Like the world was waiting for you to stumble onto it. When a reader points out a connection between two pieces of lore and you’re like, Yes, I did that on purpose absolutely I am a genius.

Or when a character walks into a room and you know what’s on the walls, what year it was built, who buried a secret in the floorboards, and why the ceiling still leaks. I may not use everything I know in that moment, but in the future, who knows?

It’s tea-stained madness with a side of purpose.

Maybe it’s punishment. Maybe it’s passion.

Probably both.

Because let’s be honest, I don’t worldbuild because I have to. I worldbuild because I can’t not. I’m already asking “what if” a hundred times a day. I might as well write it down and charge my protagonists emotional interest.

A cozy writer’s desk in warm ambient light. A tortoiseshell cat sits curled atop an open laptop beside a pink teacup, gazing thoughtfully out the window. Scattered notes, wildflowers in a vase, and a container of pens and quills complete the soft, creative chaos.
Carmen, as she exists in spirit and judgment. Image created with Midjourney.

Also? It’s fun. Fungi-powered cities? Sentient storms? An economy based on literal hot air? I’m not just building a world, I’m raising it like a feral child I fully intend to unleash on readers.

What’s the weirdest rabbit hole you’ve fallen into while worldbuilding? Calendar math? Magical sewage systems? A military hierarchy based on fish?

Tell me in the comments. Validate me. Share the pain. Maybe bring snacks.

And stay tuned, I’ll be opening the doors to some of my multiversal chaos soon in a section called My Worlds, where you can marvel (or panic) at the sheer number of universes I’m juggling like a gremlin with a tea addiction.

Because why write one world… when you can write twelve?

Behind the Fog: Writing, Wind Riders, and Eye Strain

/ RG Newhouse / Leave a comment

Hey everyone! Welcome to my cozy little corner of the internet where I’ll be sharing my writing adventures, musings, and maybe enjoying a few virtual chai lattes along the way.

A cozy, softly lit writing desk covered in open fantasy maps, aged notebooks, and a pink teacup steaming gently. A dark pawprint marks one of the map pages, hinting at feline interference in the midst of worldbuilding.

Lately, I’ve been happily hiding away from the chaos of the world by immersing myself in the Wind Riders universe. There’s something magical about escaping into a world of sky islands, Wind Riders, and airborne adventures that makes reality feel a little less daunting. One of the best parts of world building is when you stumble on those hidden gems beneath the clouds that make you blink and think, “Why didn’t I think of that before?” It’s all part of the fun and games of creating new worlds.

In the process of dreaming up new things for the Wind Riders, I’ve somehow managed to give myself a bit of eyestrain. A thousand words later, I find myself with a headache and the will to go on, but my body is definitely not on the same page.

I’ve got a bunch of short stories in mind for the Wind Riders series, and I’m also outlining two novels: one exploring the origins of the Wind Riders and another set in their future, full of new adventures and discoveries. So, there’s plenty of excitement on the horizon!

I’ll dive back into it once the aches and pains subside and I can wrap my brain around all these ideas again. Until then, I’ll be resting up and dreaming of sky islands and adventures to come!