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- [00:00]
Wil Wheaton
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Wil Wheaton
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Wil Wheaton
Hi, I'm Will and it's story time. In the spaces between worlds where myths and fairy tales are born, there is a village and a stream, a flagstone path and, of course, magical portals that all those creatures use to enter our world and others. Today we're going to spend some time around one particular portal, where we will meet a whole host of fantastic creatures, some of whom you may be familiar with. But before we do, it is my privilege to introduce you to someone very important, without whom it would all fall apart. Grab a cup of tea, maybe a biscuit, and settle into that nice sunbeam. You know, the one by the comfy chair. And get ready to meet the Portal keeper. The Portal Keeper by Lavi Tidhar Originally published in uncanny magazine, issue 48. October 1st the rabbit was back this morning. It stopped outside the portal, like it always does, and checked its pocket watch like it always does. Doesn't matter. The rabbit's always late. So far, I never found out what the rabbit is late for. It wore a jazzy waistcoat. It looked nervously from side to side and mumbled to itself. Then it hopped through the portal and was gone. I trimmed the grass hedges and washed the flagstones and placed fresh seeds in the bird feeder. I'm a portal keeper. The portal just sits there, a circle of heavy etched metal, the height of three men or one small giant. It shimmers like a mirror inside. I cleaned and wiped the metal, applying polish. The metal is etched with what could be ancient runes or could be manual instructions. I don't know what it means. I'm just the keeper. 10-2-2 unicorns wandered past the meadow this morning and stopped in the courtyard. I greeted them formally and didn't approach. They chewed on the grass for a while and one pooped on the flagstones, but apologetically. Then they ambled into the portal. I scooped the poop and washed the flagstones. I trimmed the grass and fed the birds. I made a cup of tea and sat in the last rays of the sun and let them warm my face. It is always warm inside the polder of the portal. Outside it is October and frost lies on the field. October is a busy month in the portal calendar. October 3rd. A man with a knife came through this afternoon. His clothes were bloodied and the knife was very big and very sharp. He was not a bad looking man, but he had a mean look in his eyes and he was clearly in a hurry. He left a tip, though. After he went through the portal. I waited a while but no one came in hot pursuit. The coin he left was heavy gold and with the portrait of a woman on one side. I put it into the cashbox. October 4th. No one came at all today. I read a book and made my rounds. I polished the portal. The metal felt warm. I often wonder what it's like to go through it. Sometimes I want to put my hand through the shimmering haze. What would I find? I know. The destinations change. I swept the courtyard and in the early evening watched a shower of meteorites high in the eastern skies beyond the snow capped mountains. I lit the night beacon. It shines bright and I find it lifts the gloom that sometimes falls even in the polder. It lights the way for travelers who come to us. The portal never shuts. October 5th. A woman came through the portal today. She stood in the courtyard and blinked, looking around her with curiosity. She wore a summer dress and glasses with black frames. Hello, she said. Hello, I said. You are the portal keeper? I said. I was. She looked around some more. It's nice, she said. Where am I? I did not know how to answer that question. The woman indicated my outdoors table. May I sit? Please, I said. Would you like tea? If you would be so kind, she said. She sat down and brought out a large book and an assortment of mechanical devices. She proceeded to calibrate. She made notes in the margin of the book often and bit her lip and talked to herself quite unselfconsciously for a while and then she stabbed the page with her finger and said aha. And looked quite pleased. I brought the tea and sugar. It's good, she said, surprised. After she took a sip. I smiled. Would you like a biscuit? I get them from the baker in the village, she said. She did and ate two in quick succession. Well, she said I must be off out there, I said. It's cold beyond the polder. Oh no, she said. This is not the place. I see. She shook my hand in parting and thanked me for the tea. She had a firm handshake, then she stepped back through the portal and was gone. October 6th I left a note on the cottage door to say out back soon. And wrapped up in a coat. When I stepped over the polder's threshold the cold air hit me at once and the sun vanished under the cloudy sky. I like October for all the mischief that it brings. I walked down to the village slowly along the brook that runs down from the snow capped mountains, past the polder where I live and through the village. The trees were bare but flowers still grew in profusion between the rocks and the water bubbled gently. Soon I could see the old mill and crossed the small stone bridge to the village where smoke rose from the chimneys of thatch covered cottages. I bought fresh bread from the baker and two dozen eggs, bacon and chops from the butcher, some smoked fish for which I have a fondness, and tomatoes from the farmer's cart that sits next to the village pub. I went inside for a quick drink, was welcomed with hey, Keeper. The usual? I said. The barkeep grunted, pushed a glass of sherry my way. I sipped it slowly. A fire burned in the hearth and the room was warm. I gradually noticed a youth staring at me from a place near the fire, a scruffy one at that, not local. I waited until she approached. They say there is a portal hereabouts, she said without preamble. I was surprised. Usually they are more circumspect at first. This true? Not far from here, I said. You are the keeper? I nodded. She waited a while. They always do. When she spoke her voice was lower. Can anyone use it? She said. Anyone who can use it can use it, I said. What does that mean? What do you think? I said. She chewed on that. She looked hungry. They usually do. Can I see it? She said. If you can see it, you can see it, I said. What does that mean? What do you think? I said. She chewed on that one too. What's your name? I said. Sophie. And where do you want to go? I said. I don't know, she said. Somewhere else that isn't here. You run away from home. What's it to you, Keeper? She said. All right, spiky, I sighed. What do you think you'll find the other side of a portal? I said. I don't know. Excitement, adventure or misery and pain, I said. You don't know what the other side is like. I don't care, she said. At least I'll know. I finished my drink and stood up. Go home, I said tiredly. I went back outside, over the stone bridge and up along the stream. I put the fresh supplies in the kitchen. I live simply. I live by myself. Portal keeping is a lonely business. October 7th the fuzz came just before lunchtime. There were two of them, a constable who said little, and an inspector with mutton chops hair. Sorry to bother you, ma', am, the inspector said. No trouble, I said. Would you care for some tea? If you would be so kind, the inspector said, looking pleased. I brought tea and more of the biscuits. Did a man go through here a few days ago, the inspector said. Bloodied clothes. Big knife, I allowed. A gentleman of that description did recently come by. I thought so, the inspector said. He chewed on a biscuit. These are very good, he said. I nodded. Well, if he comes back this way, will you let us know? He asked. I don't get involved, I said. I thought about it. I don't think he'll be coming back this way, though. The inspector noisily sipped his tea and got up. I had to ask, he said. You understand, of course. They wrapped their coats around themselves as they left the Polar. I watched them leap. A flurry of snow fell on the fields in the distance. I'm really excited that Quintz is sticking with its story time. If you've seen me on your television, probably figured out that my uniform is a black T shirt, black jeans, and Converse. I'm very predictable in what I wear, and my wife is far more stylish and put together. I love the clothing from Quint's so much that when it was time to buy Ann some clothing for the holidays, I went to Quint's and got her cardigans and T shirts. And I can tell you that it did not cost what I thought any of it would. Here in Southern California, winter is really on its way out. So I walked outside this morning and realized it's spring and it is time for your spring wardrobe staples. And this is where Quince shows up to take care of you. Think 100% European linen shorts and shirts from 34 doll, 100% Pima cotton tees with a softness that has to be felt. Quince works directly with ethical factories and cuts out the middlemen, so you're getting premium materials without the markup. Refresh your everyday with luxury you'll actually use. Head to quince.com storytime for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. You get to have this thing for a year and if you're like, you know what, it's day 364 and I've decided I really don't like it, send it back and Quince will be like, I got you boo. Now available in Canada. Hi Canada. I love you. Elbows up. That's Q-U-I-N-C-E.com storytime chronic migraine 15 or
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- [15:02]
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- [15:30]
Wil Wheaton
Terms apply. October 8th a little girl stepped out of the portal around tea time, looked around her and withdrew. Then a boy, Then two more children, a boy and a girl, both somewhat older. None of them stuck around. A lot of kids use portals. October 9th the woman with the black framed glasses was back in the early morning. She stepped out of the portal, looked around her and pursed her lips. This place again, she said. She wore long leather trousers this time and a hand sewn fur coat. She saw me. Hello, Keeper, she said. Hello. Are you lost? She sighed. I'm trying to reach somewhere that is hard to reach, she said. May I stay a while? Be my guest. She sat down at the garden table and set to work on her calculations. I trimmed the hedges and fed the birds. Then I'm making breakfast, I said. If you'd like some. I couldn't impose, she said. It's no bother. People seldom stay long on the threshold. A portal is for coming or for going. I fried bacon and eggs and toasted bread. I served us both on the garden table. The woman pushed away her instruments and charts. She dug into the food with great relish. I realized I enjoyed watching her eat. She caught me looking and smiled self consciously. I've been short on sustenance in the last place, she said. You travel often? When I need to. Something occurred to me. Did you come across a man in bloodied clothes in your recent travels? I said. He carries a big knife. Oh, him, she said. I passed him briefly in a place where there are three sons and the flowers speak, but we didn't exchange pleasantries. Is he of interest to you? Just curious, I said. She swiped the last of the egg with the last of the toast, belched, then looked embarrassed. I laughed. More tea? I said. I refilled her cup and we sat there in companionable silence. I better get back to my work, she said after a while. Can I help wash up? It's no bother, I said. I carried the plates away. She bent over her charts and muttered to herself, her pencil flying over the paper, making calculations. I washed the dishes and watered the garden. My mint was growing wildly. I picked some for later. It really is beautiful here, the woman said. I must be going. She thought a moment. My name, she said, is Dorothea. We shook hands. She went into the portal and was gone. I dozed in the sun and was woken with the arrival of a raven. It perched on the windowsill of the cottage and regarded me with doleful eyes. You know there's a girl pacing outside your threshold, it said. Yes, I said. She's been there a couple of days. She'll get tired soon, I suppose. The raven cawed, and then it flew into the portal. Ravens travel between worlds quite a lot. October 10th. No one coming or going today. I left a note saying, back soon, and walked to the farm for fresh milk and some butter. The girl, Sophie, came and walked beside me. I just can't see it, she said. Then go home. I won't. Have you eaten anything? I said. A little. You look cold I'm fine, she said. I sighed. I'm only going to the farm down the hill, I said. I'll keep you company. Are there many portals? I suppose, I said. I wouldn't really know. Are you the only keeper? It seems unlikely, I said. But it's just a job. Like locks and cemeteries and gardens. They all have keepers, too. Someone still needs to clean the flagstones and feed the birds when other people go off to have adventures. She smiled at that one. I smiled back. Go home, I said. I won't. Then run away to the city. That's what people usually do. Who said? I'm not from the city, she said. Defiant, are you? No. If you read too many books, you can get all sorts of weird ideas. You can't really run away from your troubles, you know. All you do is exchange one place for another. How do you know if you never went anywhere? I shrugged. It's no use offering advice to the young. I followed the brook past the village and down to the farm. No one was in, but they'd left milk and butter and eggs, and I left them the coin the man in the bloodied clothes gave me. I walked slowly back up the hill. It's cold, sophie complained. It's October. Do you ever see ghosts? She asked. Not very often. We reached the polder. I'd like to. Hey, she said. I could hear her muttering on the other side of the threshold. Where did you. Oh, this is confounding. I left her to it. October 11th the rabbit was back, late as always. A little girl followed him through the portal a short time later. I played with a deck of cards, did my rounds, made a sandwich, and took it across the threshold. Where did you. Sophie said. It's a mystery, I said. Here. I gave her the sandwich. Thanks, she said. She ate it very quickly and still not going anywhere. Suit yourself. Wait. I don't know why some people find portals and others don't. I don't know how it works. I polished the metal. The portal vibrated softly under my hand. I fed the birds and watered the flowers. It was cold outside the polder. I walked back across. Hey, how do you here? I said. I handed her a blanket. Why are you being so nice to me? Sophie said. I don't know. How did you become a keeper anyway? Same way everyone does, I guess. Come on, let me in. Go home, I said. Then I went back and read a book until bedtime. October 12th two witches came by mid morning. I like witches. They stopped and chatted a while. I made tea. We discussed broomsticks. Mostly. October 13th. Went down to the village, bought supplies. No sign of Sophie. I guess she finally gave up. October 14th. A beaver and dungarees came by early. Didn't stop to chat. A booted rapier wielding cat came next. A couple of centaurs, then another witch. Hello, Jill, I said. Hello, Keeper. Keeping busy? Getting there. October, right? She said. You said it. May I see your herb garden? She asked. Of course. We admired the plants. May I take some of your mint? She said. With pleasure, I said. Is it for magic? Oh, no. I just like the smell. I could make you a love potion if you like, though. I shook my head. I'm happy as I am. She nodded. Well, I better be off. I'll come back this way sometime. She wandered into the portal. Her black cat followed. I watered the plants, trimmed the hedges. No sign of Sophie. I wondered where she went at October 15th. The woman in the black framed glasses came back this morning. I felt pleased to see her. Keeper, she said. Dorothea. Something keeps pulling me back, she said. Some sort of interference in the Arnett Thompson field, maybe. Here, I brought you something. She took my hand. Her hand was warm. I felt something very light touch my skin. She pulled away, looking pleased. They're seeds, I said. Yes. Are they magical? I wouldn't think so, she said, looking surprised. They're love in a mist. The flowers are pretty. Then I'll plant them in the garden, I said, and she smiled. I like that, she said. Stay a while. I really shouldn't. What is it that you try to find? She shrugged. You know how it is, she said. Not really. I'm just the keeper. I don't want to talk about work. May I sit down a while after all? Of course. I brought tea and we sat together. Have you been a keeper a long time? She said. A few years. What did you do before? What does anyone? I said, and she put up her hands. I didn't mean to pry. It's all right. How does one end up a keeper? You have to suffer loss. Enough to make you want to live alone, where nothing happens. I didn't say that. Maybe she saw it in my eyes. She touched my hand lightly and left it there. We looked at each other. Her face was serious. Her eyes were a deep brown. I found myself leaning towards her only slightly. The space between us closed. I have to go, she said. She stood up quickly, pushing the chair back. I'm so sorry. She grasped for her charts and instruments, suddenly in a hurry. Wait, I said. But she'd already gone through the portal and vanished.
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- [27:37]
Wil Wheaton
October 16th two black clad men in robes and hoods showed up when I was planting the love in a mist. I was still puzzled and a little hurt from yesterday's encounter with Dorothea. I wondered if she would come back. I hoped she. The black robed men had a definite evil miasma about them. That's the way it goes sometimes. The hoarse voice and the fashion sense and the way the robes seem to always float just above the ground. Help you? I said. I didn't offer them tea. Looking for someone? No one else here, I said. Sorry. Would have gone through, the taller man of the two said. The second one didn't speak. Bloodied clothes. Big knife. Oh, him. I don't know where he went. We have some idea. They headed to the portal. Wait, I said, and they paused. What? What did he do? Interferd the man said. He said something to his companion in a language I didn't understand. The smaller one made a hissing sound that could have been a laugh. Then they vanished through the portal. October 17th. Went for a walk to the village. Something moved in the bushes, but I paid it no mind. Had a glass of sherry in the village pub as usual. Cold crisp day. Bought bacon and bread. Walked back. Got you.
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- [29:53]
Wil Wheaton
Sophie jumped out of the bushes and latched onto my leg as I crossed the threshold. She sat up on the flagstones, looking dazed. Where did this come from? She said. Then, hey, how come it's warm? Congratulations, kid, I said. You found it. Now what? I don't know. Is this it? She pointed at the portal. Want to see it? Yeah. I let her go. I'm just the keeper. She put her hand on the metal, stared into the shimmering air inside the circle. Where would you go? She said. I mean, if you were going to use it? I think about it sometimes, I admitted. I don't know. Where would you go? She looked at me with shining eyes. Everywhere, she said. You get them every so often, the runaways, the lost ones. Most of them give up after a week and go away. But if they're stubborn or desperate enough, they usually find the portal in the end. Then it's up to them. Go through or go back. You can never tell. Want Some tea? I said. Sophie looked hungrily at my shopping. I sighed. I'll make you a plate, I said. October 18 Sophie's still here. I let her sleep in the garden shed last night. She keeps looking at the portal. The pacing has been getting on my nerves. Make a decision yet? I said. I just don't know. You said you wanted a portal. Yes, but I didn't think it was real. Like real real, you know, she said. The air inside the portal shimmered, then a figure stepped through. He'd changed his clothes to ones that weren't bloodied, and he put the knife somewhere out of sight, but I recognized him, of course. Didn't think you'd be back this way, I said. I left something behind, he said. Some people looking for you. There usually are. He nodded. Anyone I should know about? A police inspector, I said. And two guys in black robes, hoarse voice, a general miasma of evil, he said. Float off the ground. That's them. Friends of yours? Nah, he said. Then listen, Keeper, thanks for letting me know. I owe you one. What did you do, anyway? I said. I tried to stop them from performing a certain ritual. They're pretty bad as far as cultists go. Sophie was listening to all of this with interest. And what are you? She said. I'm more of a. What do you call it? Disagreeable. He gave her a smile, looked at me. Apprentice, he said. What? No, Sophie said. She's thinking of travel, I said. Ah. He turned to Sophie. Anywhere in particular? The singing sands of Seapor are beautiful this time of year, and the dragons assemble on Mount Ushum before their great migration south. He fell silent, perhaps thinking of better times. I never saw a dragon, sophie said. He shrugged. They smell pretty bad. All that gas, you know. Anyway, I'll see you in moments. He was gone. I thought. The inspector will soon have more work on his hands. October 19 A toad driving a Rolls Royce came through this morning, honking loudly, and vanished into the portal. October 20th Sophie keeps hanging around. I wish she'd make her mind up. October 21st I'd left my gardening boots outside the door last night, and when I got up this morning they had been expertly repaired and better than new. I stared at them a while. Well, come out then, I said. First one small head and then another eventually stuck out from behind my rose bushes. Didn't mean to intrude, man, the first gnome said sheepishly. She wore a red dress. They look beautiful, I said. Thank you. The second gnome, who wore a bright blue coat, bowed gravely. Then we are happy, he said. You wish to use the portal? If it's no bother. It's what it's there for, I said. They vanished into the portal, hand in hand. I smiled. I trimmed the hedges, washed the flagstones, sent Sophie to the farm to get fresh milk. The sun shone. Frost lay on the field outside the threshold, and birds migrated across the eastern skies and past the snow capped mountains. Hello. Dorothea stepped out of the portal. Hi, I said. Listen, about last time. It's fine, really. I was just she pushed her glasses up. Can I stay a while? Stay as long as you like, and meant it. I went to boil water. She followed me into the kitchen. What I do, she said. I'm never in one place, and I turned from the stove. We were face to face. The kitchen smelled of rosemary and mint. Her eyes were brown. Stories don't always have to be complicated, I said and kissed her. Oh, she said when we pulled back for air. I'll make the tea, I said. She took my hand and smiled. The tea, she said, can wait. October 22 what's it like? Sophie said, out there? We were sitting in the garden eating lunch. Sophie had been plying Dorothea with questions all morning. It depends, Dorothea said. Depends on what? On who you are. On where you go. She shrugged. Whether you're more of a magic or a science sort of person. Are there elves? Sophie said. Dorothea shuddered. Pass the salad, will you? She said. After lunch, Dorothea sat down to her calculations. Sophie stayed and watched. I made my rounds. I wasn't used to having other people in my house. It felt nice. October 23rd I have to go, Dorothea said. I think I'm close now. I understand. I told you, I'm always moving. Yes. I tickled her. She laughed. You know where I am, I said. October 24 A troop of tiny winged fairies flew to the portal with squealing children between them. One of the kids wore pajamas and a top hat. Second to the right and straight on till morning. A boy wearing leaves cried. He comes by every one or two years. I wonder if he'll ever grow up. The other kids followed him into the portal. I swept up fairy dust. My broomstick kept floating up into the air. October 25th the Black Robed cultists are back and they're not happy. They're going to stick around, the tall one said. They showed up about mid afternoon. Sophie and I were playing cards on the garden table. No luck out there, I said. He tricked us. We'll wait. No guarantee he'll come back, I said. The two of them conferred in their strange language. He'll Come through here soon. Suit yourselves, I said. But I can't offer you hospitality. They cackled in an evil sort of way. We don't ask. I sighed. You can use the shed, I said. But don't make a mess if you can help it. Much obliged. They floated off. Sophie stared at me. Why do you let them push you around like this? I don't, I said. But there are certain understandings. Such as? Such as that other people's stories need to resolve themselves. I'm just the portal keeper. I'll never understand you, she said, exasperated. Have you decided what you want to do yet? I said. The portal's right there. I know. She bit her lip. I'm still deciding. No rush. It's nice having you around. She smiled. Really? Really, I said, surprised to find out I meant it. October 26th a unicorn wandered in this morning. The black robed guys were out in the courtyard and when they saw the unicorn they started to hiss. The creature raised its horn and pawed its hoof and looked ready to attack them. I wish they'd go away already. Hush, Sophie said, appearing from inside the house. She went to the unicorn and stroked it gently until it calmed down. The cultists wisely vanished back to the shed. I kept a safe distance from the unicorn. I'm hardly a maiden. I was a little surprised to find out Sophie was. Sophie led the unicorn to the portal. She stood with it for a long while, like they were talking. Then the unicorn neighed and it stepped into the portal. Sophie stayed staring after it for a long time. I think she might be ready to go soon. October 27 Three men came from the east today, carrying a small wooden box each. They stopped to chat for just a moment. There was a very pleasant smell, though it took me a moment to pinpoint it. Frankincense, I said. And myrrh. You have a good nose, Keeper. Don't see much of that around these days, I said. We carry them as presents. He checked his watch. We have a long way to go yet. Sorry, Keeper. Don't want to miss the berth. Maybe see you on the way back, I said. October 28th he's here, the tall cultist said. He was out of the shed and held some sort of nasty rune inscribed staff in hands that more than a little disturbingly resembled talons. I don't see anyone go inside. This will get messy. Suit yourself, I said. I went inside. Sophie was looking out of the window. What are they doing? She said. It's best not to look, I said. The man with the big Knife is back. What is he doing? She shuddered and turned away from the window. It's best not to look, she said. October 29th I trimmed the hedges, washed blood off the flagstones and watered the flowers. Did my rounds. When I'd finished, Sophie was standing in the courtyard with a small bag on her back. She stared at the portal. Well, I'll miss you, keeper, she said. Something caught in my throat. She seemed so young and lost standing there. I wondered what she'd find on the other side. I wished her good companions and noble quests, excitement and adventure and true love. I hoped she'll get to see a dragon. I'll miss you too, I said and hugged her. Then I let her go. She squared her shoulders and stepped into the portal. October 30th alone again. I had been used to solitude, had liked it for a long time. Now the courtyard just felt empty. I worked in the garden. A flock of birds migrated in the eastern skies over the snow capped mountains. I went down to the village, made my shopping, had a glass of sherry in the village pub. No runaways today, October 31st. Halloween is a busy day in the portal calendar. I trimmed the hedges, fed the birds. When I went to water the flowers, I saw that the love in a mist had bloomed. Soft footsteps behind me, and my heart lifted even before she spoke. I told you they were beautiful, dorothea said. I took her hand and we stood there together, admiring the flowers. Did you find the place you were looking for? I said. She smiled and kissed my fingers. I think maybe I have, she said. I smiled at her and wiped my eyes from tears that came unbidden. I didn't know where they came from, but they felt good all the same. Did you know there's a rabbit pacing in your yard? Dorothea said. He keeps checking his pocket watch. Oh, him, I said. He's always late. Late for what? She said. I held her hand as we walked back together to the cottage. How should I know? I said. I'm just the portal keeper. La Vie Tadar's work encompasses literary fiction, Mirar, Autumn, Golgotha, and Six Lives Cross genre classics such as Jerwood Prize winner A Man Lies Dreaming and World Fantasy Award winner Osama and genreworks like the Campbell and Newcome winner Central Station. His latest books are the three coffin problem and guns and sorcery, both in 2026. Hey, before I get to the credits, I would like to remind you that the very best way for you to support the podcast, the thing you can do that is the most helpful to me and everyone whose you are about to hear is to like, rate and review us wherever you get your podcasts. I've been looking at what people have said and unless y' all are lying, you really like this and that feels amazing. And thank you. If you haven't yet given us a review, it really, really does help and I just thank you in advance for doing that. Let us get now into the credits. Its story Time with Wil Wheaton was produced in 2026 by Traveler Enterprises Incorporated, who holds the copyright. Our producer is Harris Lane. Our story producer and director is Gabrielle Dacure. Our Content editor is Michael Thomas. Our podcast is edited, mixed and mastered by Alex Barton of Face Shift av. Very special thanks to Wes Stevens and Christopher Black. We are recorded at Skyboat Media which as you probably know by now is in the San Fernando Valley where you wish you were Thanks a lot for listening. Oh my gosh. I always forget to say this. If you would like an ad free experience with all kinds of fun behind the scenes stuff, you can check us out at Patreon. We start at $5 a month patreon.com storytime I am Wil Wheaton. I am your host, your narrator and your creator. You can find me@wilwheaton.net thanks so much for listening y'. All. Until next time, take care of yourselves and take care of each other. Bye.
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Seth Schachner
Have you ever wondered why songs on the radio are popular? Why do certain movies get made even though the premise seems completely random? Why are concert tickets costing you $3,000 but nobody makes any money touring? Well, on my podcast, Breaking down the Biz, we answer all those questions and more. I'm Seth Schachner. I have over two decades of experience in the entertainment and the music industry, and every week I talk to insiders that lend insight and expertise on the media you know and love past, present and future. Subscribe now on your favorite podcasting platform or watch us on YouTube so you never miss a beat. Let's make sense of this industry together.