Tricks and Treats

(and not-so-scary sequels)

Five years ago, not knowing how the costume would fit or how long I might actually want to wear it, I dressed up as a blogger for Halloween, put jittery fingers to keyboard, and, like John Hurt convulsing on the dinner table while that screeching, skittering little alien burst forth from his chest, gave birth to a screeching, skittering little thing I called TWM.

Like the incredulous crew of the Nostromo, I watched with surprise and horror, awe and amazement, as that little beast rose and grew and bared its teeth, ran off into the shadows for a while, then evolved and reappeared here, transformed into an imposing, acid-blooded presence I could not possibly have imagined.

Sometimes, when I look at TRM or the server software that powers it, or when I consider the posts I've made and the number of hits I get each day, or when I look at the sheer and shocking body of work I've spit out over the past five years, I feel a little like Harry Dean Stanton, staring up into the great and savage maw of the alien and thinking, just before it eats his face, that he probably should have forgotten about the damned cat.

But then there are times, when I'm watching tv or driving to work or sitting at my desk and some random thought or inspiration hits and compels me to share it, or when I'm feeling something so deep in my head or my heart or my soul that it feels like I might possibly die if I don't write about it, or, like right now, when I'm sitting here thinking and typing and writing something that I hope I will love and be proud of later, when I feel like Sigourney Weaver, going back for the cat and risking her life and then, in the end, bringing the big old alien along for the ride anyway.

And that’s good. Because continuing the adventure, no matter where it takes you, is better than hanging around on a self-destructing ship. And, even though most of them just plain stink, some sequels really are more rich and rewarding, more wild and exciting than the original.

TWM was a labor of love. And maybe, in some small way, an act of desperation.

TRM is as an experiment. And still, in many ways, an unfinished one.

Either way, and in every way, I’m enjoying the ride. I hope you are too.

As this election season winds down and the time I have to spend here picks up, I’ll work even harder to earn, and so to deserve, your support and indulgence. And I’ll do my best to make what lies ahead (and beneath, and beyond) in this sequel more Aliens than The Fly II, more Evil Dead 2 than Exorcist 2.

I have some big ideas, and at least a couple of tricks and treats, for what to scare up next in a space where everyone can hear you scream.