People think storytelling starts with a script. A keyboard. Maybe a cup of coffee and a dream.
But those of us who live it know better.
A real story, the kind that scars you and saves you, starts in the places most people never dare look. It starts in silence. In warzones. In trauma. In childhoods torn in two. In memories so deeply buried, they don't surface until you're pretending to be someone else… and suddenly you're not pretending anymore.
I didn't write Echoes of Asgard. I bled it.
When I sat down to write about Thor losing his fellow warrior in battle, I wasn’t crafting a plot point. I was reliving the moment I lost my own brothers. The ones whose faces I still couldn’t remember until five years later. That’s what the void is. That’s what real stories are carved from.
People think acting is just pretending.
But let me tell you, when an actor takes on a role like mine, they are not stepping into armor. They're ripping theirs off. They’re standing naked in front of the world and saying, “Let me show you what grief looks like when it still hasn’t left.” The tremble in Thor’s hand isn’t special effects. That’s my tremble. The rage he can’t contain? That’s mine. The love he won’t speak? That’s from growing up in a system that told boys silence was strength.
You cannot act trauma. You become it.
For a moment. For a scene. For the gods' sake, for the audience.
And then you carry it home and hope it doesn't follow you into your sleep.
This is why I say this work, this show, Echoes, is more than myth. It’s the truth behind every man and woman who has buried someone before they were ready. It’s the silence after the gunfire. The way the world keeps spinning when your soul hasn’t caught up. And to capture that onscreen? It takes more than talent. It takes suffering with purpose.
And I’ve suffered. I still do. ADHD scrambles my mind like lightning trying to land. PTSD hides in every crack. TBI makes me forget what I was saying halfway through a sentence. But I still show up. For my family. For my cast. For my characters. For the next warrior who thinks they’re alone.
To those who think this is just fantasy, I say:
This is the most real thing I’ve ever made.
And to those chasing greatness, I’ll tell you this...
It’s not about awards.
It’s about how deep you’re willing to dig when no one’s watching.
How honest you're willing to be when it's just you and the page…
...or the battlefield that lives behind your eyes.
Echoes of Asgard isn’t about gods.
It’s about survivors.
And I’m one of them.
How about YOU?
Mental Health Awareness Month Post
3 people like this
My condolences, Chris Thane. Gripping post. You're right. Storytelling starts in those places. Silence, warzones, and so on. Sometimes I write about things from my past on purpose, and sometimes I don't realize I wrote about them until later.
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I’ve felt the same way, Maurice Vaughan I’ve finished scenes only to reread them in absolute tears, because it hits me… that moment, that wound, that truth. That’s the power of storytelling. Not in a bad way, but in the way where you stop and say, “That’s exactly how it feels.” And sometimes “That’s how I heal.”
Then I imagine the people like me reading or watching. The ones in pain through economic, physical, psychological, who see themselves in that same moment. That resonance is where the real stories live. It’s also where the labels start to die. When someone says, “You’re different, so I must treat you like this”. the answer is, “No. You don’t.”
That’s why we write. Not to escape the truth, but to meet it in the open and say, “Here. Now you’re not alone.”
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Spoken from the heart. Thank you for posting.
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“I didn’t write Echoes of Asgard. I bled it.”
you certainly know how to turn a phrase.
keep going.
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Good for you! Intensity!
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Spot-On bro!! Chris Thane we must write from our experiences, no matter how good, bad, or ugly it was or is.
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Chris Thane, thank you for sharing not just your process, but your pain, your truth, and your purpose. Echoes of Asgard sounds like so much more than a story. Your line, “You cannot act trauma. You become it,” hit me straight in the chest. It’s a reminder that the most resonant stories don’t come from imagination alone, they come from lived experience, from the places we’re often taught to hide. Your willingness to bring those memories to the surface, to turn your suffering into something that connects and consoles, is nothing short of courageous.
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Asmaa Jamil Thank you
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James Fleming Turn a phrase to say the very least, it has been a journey, and that is the ironic beauty, isn't it?
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Jon Shallit Thank you very much
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Mark Deuce Not specifically about our experiences, but the lessons they provide. This gives our cast more opportunities to explore their character, their role and themselves.
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Ashley Renee Smith Thank you. When we’re told to bury our truth, we lose the power it carries, not just to heal us, but to awaken others. Echoes of Asgard was never just a script, it’s the voice I never had when I needed it most. And if even one person feels less alone because I bled into these pages, then the pain wasn’t wasted. We don’t just tell stories or read lines, we remember ourselves through them. I see that in your work too. Grateful to be in this room with you.
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I agree Chris Thane