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Tonight, Tyler Unsell and I will be at the Stray Cat Film Center hosting a FREE screening of the 1939 Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard version of The Cat and the Canary. The show starts at 7pm and will be followed, as always, by our usual semi-academic discussion where we’ll talk about horror comedy, old dark house pictures, and the (possibly tenuous) link between this film and Scooby-Doo, all part of our spring programming linked with Tyler’s Drinkaway Camp 2 project, which is kicking off in just a few days’ time!

Partially in preparation for tonight’s show and partially just because I got the Blu-ray and was excited, I watched the new Eureka Blu of Paul Leni’s original Cat and the Canary from 1927 and wrote about it for Signal Horizon. Technically, I had seen the film once before, on the world’s shittiest transfer, but seeing it fully restored like this it is possibly my new favorite silent film of all time.

If you enjoy me writing and jabbering about movies as I do in that review and at these Horror Pod Class shows at the Stray Cat, you’ll be pleased to learn that my next book is actually going to be a collection of some of the best of my writing on horror films collected from across the last decade.

Due out this October from Word Horde, Glowing in the Dark will collect essays and reviews spanning dozens of movies and across a variety of different eras and topics, albeit all of them contained within the hazy bounds of “horror cinema.” From my now-classic 2011 essay on cosmic horror in John Carpenter’s “Apocalypse Trilogy” to a contemporary review for James Wan’s 2021 film Malignant, I cover a lot of ground in this book, and I really hope that readers will love it.

Many of these essays and reviews first appeared online or in print in places like Unwinnable, Signal Horizon, Weird Horror, Clarkesworld, Nightmare, and this very blog, to name a few. I cover topics from silent films to the present day, as well as films from Japan, Italy, Mexico, Spain, and others. From the use of insects in the films of Guillermo del Toro to the unlikely (and unexplored) futurism of Universal’s early Mummy sequels from the 1940s, there’s a little bit of everything in these pages.

There are also two entirely new pieces in the book, just in case you’re the kind of weirdo who has somehow read everything I’ve written on the subject up to this point. One is an obligatory list of movie recommendations while another tackles a subject that is near and dear to my heart: the link between midnight spook shows and the gimmick films of William Castle.

To the surprise of no one, you’ll be hearing a lot more about Glowing in the Dark as we get closer to publication, including a cover reveal in the coming weeks or months. However, the official announcement dropped last night, so I figured it was high time to make it official on here, as well.

Astute readers will already be aware that I have been a loyal devotee of Analog Sunday for many years now. For those who don’t know what that is, Analog Sunday is a monthly event hosted (currently) at the Rewind dive bar behind and beneath the Screenland Armour. It is the brainchild of Elijah LaFollette of Magnetic Magic Rentals, a local designer and tapehead who curates a movie each month from his personal collection that is the kind of thing you could only see at Analog Sunday and then projects it off VHS tape.

These are invariably films of debatable artistic merit but absolutely unquestionable entertainment value. Past favorites include Dial: Help, Winterbeast, The Convent, Get Even, Terror Eyes, Carnosaur, Psyclops, Dead Mate, and many more.

To some extent, this is all born out of an affection for the DIY aesthetic of analog media, but that’s not the draw that brings me out every time. I’m not a tape collector, and I try, in general, to temper my nostalgia.

No, what makes Analog Sunday my most anticipated event of each and every month is Eli’s curation. Attending Analog Sunday is getting a peek into his brain, and that’s worth the trip, every time. Since I first started attending years ago (my first Analog Sunday was Little Devils: The Birth, the only George Pavlou movie not adapted from Clive Barker) Eli and I have become fast friends, and we often go thrifting together or have movie nights at one another’s houses.

Most months, I have to settle for only a single Analog Sunday on the calendar, but March is something special. While there’s still only one Analog Sunday (Eli’s annual “Evil Analog Easter,” this time showing the Hellraiser-with-the-serial-numbers-filed-off Hellinger), there are two other Analog-adjacent events taking place in March, one of them under my own aegis.

For starters, this very night, Eli will be hosting a screening of the newest film by shot-on-video indie legend J.R. Bookwalter. The only flick I’ve ever seen of Bookwalter’s is Dead Next Door, but it was quite good. Side Effects May Vary is his first film in twenty years, and while it isn’t shot-on-video, that’s still a legacy that is very Analog-adjacent. What’s more, the director himself will be in attendance for a Q&A after the show.

That’s tonight, March 13 starting at 7pm, for those of you who might be local to the Kansas City area, and it’s at the Screenland Armour. You can also buy tickets at that link.

But that’s not all! On Thursday, March 28 (also at 7pm) our monthly Horror Pod Class event will be taking place at the Stray Cat Film Center. As always, we’ll be showing a horror movie and then hosting a live podcast afterward to discuss some vaguely academic topics surrounding the film, and how it might be used in a classroom setting.

This month, though, we have a very special guest – the aforementioned Eli! He’ll be joining us to host a screening of one of his favorite movies, Puppet Master, projected off a VHS tape in Analog style, and then joining in our discussion afterward, where we’ll talk about Full Moon movies, nostalgia, VHS culture, and why my co-host has a thing for the Leech Woman, among other topics. And, as always, it’s absolutely FREE – though if you want to guarantee yourself a spot, you can get tickets here.

And then, finally, it’s our annual Evil Analog Easter at Analog Sunday on – when else – Easter Sunday itself, March 31 at the Rewind dive bar. Eli goes all out for both Halloween and Easter, so you’re gonna be in for a treat if you can make it out. Like our Stray Cat event, Analog Sunday is free, so just drop by Rewind on March 31 if you can. The show starts at 7pm, though there’s tape trading and hanging out both beforehand and after.

It is de rigeur among horror hounds to make a big production out of how much you dislike Christmas. And if you do partake in the season’s festivities – as, after all, most of us do – then you must do so as ironically as possible. Hence things like the exhausting fake discourses about whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie or the endless and equally exhausting “you’ve heard of elf on a shelf” gags.

And I get it. Christmas, as it exists today, is basically a post-consumer hellscape, and Christian extremists have turned something as impossibly bland as saying “happy holidays” into a battleground over the most entitled bullshit you can possibly imagine. Meanwhile, “first to market” means that Christmas shit fills up the stores earlier and earlier each year. There’s a lot to hate.

But I actually sort of love Christmas, even though I don’t care for compulsory gift-giving or for family gatherings and I’m certainly not a Christian. (It’s cool if you are, though. I’ve got nothing against you, as long as you’re not the shitty kind I mentioned in the previous paragraph.)

While the “most wonderful time of the year” sloganeering was always meant as some whistling past the graveyard – Christmas comes near the solstice, after all, making it literally the coldest and darkest time fo the year – I actually do quite like this season. Part of that is simply that I love brightly colored lights on strings. I love any light designed to provide ambiance over illumination. And I love to see all the houses lit up against the dark that presses in.

And I love that pressing dark, if I’m honest. Night in the winter just feels darker than night any other time of year, and those pools of light with the inky shadows around them is an appealing aesthetic for someone like me.

There’s a reason, after all, why ghost stories are associated with Christmas, rather than Halloween. “It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story,” Jerome K. Jerome wrote back in the day, and while that may be an exaggeration, it’s one that captures a truth.

Ghost stories at Christmas are a tradition dating back at least to the Victorians and one that, for all our Krampuses and our Christmas horror movies, we’ve rather lost the thread of. Many of the best ghost stories in the business come from this tradition, particularly those of M.R. James. These don’t always take place on Christmas, but they always have a feel that captures the chill at the edge of the room, as you all gather around the fireplace and listen to someone tell a hair-raising tale.

James was far from alone, either. Charles Dickens may have penned the Christmas ghost story that we all still remember, but it was far from the only one, even in his own ouevre. Check out “The Signal-Man” for one example, which was adapted by the BBC as part of their long-running Ghost Story for Christmas series of telefilms. My favorite classic ghost story writer, E.F. Benson, also got in on the action more than once.

Even when they aren’t set around Christmastime, these chilly tales of “pleasing terror” (James’ term) are always perfect for this time of year. Keep a book of them by your bedside table and read one before bed each night in the run-up to the New Year – feel like a proper Victorian of leisure.

One unlikely place where this tradition is being kept alive is in the pages of Mike Mignola’s Hellboy comics. While it may seem odd at first glance that there are so many Hellboy stories set around Christmas, and so few around Halloween, it actually makes a lot of sense, when you look back at Mignola’s influences. For several years now, a Hellboy Winter Special has presented seasonal tales, and there are plenty of classic Hellboy stories that are perfect for the holidays.

This year, there’s also something new. I haven’t gotten a chance to read Four Gathered on Christmas Eve yet, but it comes to us from a veritable Mount Rushmore of talented cartoonists including Eric Powell, Becky Cloonan, James Harren, and Mignola himself, and it is one of the things I’ve been most eagerly looking forward to this entire year.

The ghost story season doesn’t precisely end at Christmas, either. As long as the nights stay cold and dark and long, it’ll be an ideal time to tell a shivery tale or two. In that spirit, we’ll be showing one of my favorite horror anthology films, the 1945 British classic Dead of Night, which features its own share of Christmas ghost stories, at the Stray Cat Film Center on December 28.

As always, the show is free, and afterward, Tyler and I will be hosting our usual semi-academic discussion, this time chatting about the tradition of ghost stories at Christmas and going over the fact that Dead of Night was the actual inspiration for the Steady State theory of the universe – how many horror films can claim that?

If you’re looking for suitably spooky tales to read on a dark winter’s night, I highly recommend collections by some of the greats of the ghost story, with a few of my personal favorites being M.R. James, E.F. Benson, and Robert Westall. (I wrote the introductions for the reissues of a couple of Robert Westall collections from Valancourt Books.) And if you’ve already read all those and are looking for something more modern, you probably won’t go too far wrong by picking up my latest book.

I haven’t written a lot of specifically Christmassy stories myself, but How to See Ghosts contains one of my only self-consciously Christmas-set stories, “The Humbug,” which was originally performed for Christmas at Pseudopod a couple of years ago. It is, as many of the best Christmas ghost stories are, surprisingly mean-spirited.

We all have our own particular holiday traditions – mine involve those Christmas-tree shaped mini cakes that Little Debbie puts out every year. Whatever your preferred methodology for celebrating the season, even if that is flipping it the bird until the holidays are long over, I hope you get to experience the joy of icy fingers up and down your spine at least once before the long winter comes to an end.

After all, that’s what Christmas is all about.

Tomorrow is the first day of October. To the surprise of absolutely no one, October is an important – and busy – time of year for me. And, as always, I have a lot going on this October, from hosting movies to attending movies to a variety of other activities.

And that’s not even mentioning all the new stuff that’s coming out to watch, read, see, and do this month that I’m excited about. I’m going to be busy, is what I’m saying. And one of the biggest things I’m doing is covering haunted houses for The Pitch. I’ve already posted a sort of round-up to get you started, and I’ll be keeping a “haunt diary” there all month long if you want to follow my byline.

If you’re local, then odds are you’ll see me around Stray Cat or the Screenland Armour sometime this month. Besides a bunch of other movies, I’ll be at Nerdoween for the ninth year running on October 7, catching an Analog Sunday double feature on October 15, and of course the Horror Pod Class will be going all out this month as we host the WNUF Halloween Special on October 25 – and that one is, as always, completely free!

Most years, I also participate in the Countdown to Halloween, and try to watch at least one horror movie per day for the entire month of October. This year, in part due to the previously mentioned busy schedule, I’ll not be doing either of those things, though I still plan to keep the season in a number of ways. For one of those, I’ll be reading a bunch of suitably spooky books for teenage and young adult (and mid-grade) readers, and you can follow along with that on my Instagram. We’ll see how many “a bunch” ultimately turns out to be.

Aside from that, this is my first Halloween in my new house, and while I haven’t been able to go quite as “all out” on the decorations as I had hoped, I do feel like it’s coming along. There’ll be more photos of that on my Instagram as the month progresses, too.

Finally, the spooky season is a time when a lot of people read spooky books – and sometimes give them as gifts to friends and family. If you’re thinking of doing any of the above, I have written a few spooky books, as you may already know, and my latest one is How to See Ghosts & Other Figments, which even features a couple of Halloween stories that saw print there for the first time.

If you read How to See Ghosts – or any of my other books – this is also a great opportunity to leave a review someplace. And if you’re new to my work and have found your way here for some other reason, I’ve got a few Halloween stories that are free to read online in various places.

Goblins” was originally published as a new piece in the deluxe edition of my first collection, Never Bet the Devil & Other Warnings, from Strix Publishing. It was later read in audio form at PseudoPod for the holiday. Similarly, “Screen Haunt” made its first appearance in It Came from the Multiplex from Hex Publishing, and was performed on PseudoPod for Halloween. Finally, “The All-Night Horror Show” is available to read online at The Dark, where it first appeared, though attendees of the Outer Dark Symposium on the Greater Weird may remember me reading an early draft of it there a few years ago.

I am an old hand when it comes to Halloween haunts. I have been going to them for as long as I can rememember, and they have always been comfort food to me. When I was a kid, I would spend all day at the Joyland amusement park in Wichita, riding the Wacky Shack dark ride over and over and over again.

I love haunts, and I’ve traveled far to attend them, which makes it ironic that I had never been to the Halloween Haunt event at Worlds of Fun, despite having lived here in Kansas City for going on twenty years. In fact, I’m not positive that I had ever been to Worlds of Fun, full stop, before I made it out for the media night preview of the Halloween Haunt last week.

Though I was dimly aware of the Halloween Haunt, I think I had always written it off, imagining it to be something like a spooky Renaissance faire, where costumed scare actors wandered the park and spooky music was piped in over the PA system or something. I didn’t expect actual haunts nestled in among the rides. I certainly didn’t expect seven of them.

I went to Worlds of Fun as a representative of The Pitch, prepping for a month of haunt coverage to coincide with the Halloween season. As a member of the press, I was absolutely feted by the folks at Worlds of Fun, who treated me to their new Zombie Boo-ffet offering, which was a massive, all-you-can-eat banquet prepared by a very enthusiastic resident chef. Honestly, my greatest regret of the evening is that I didn’t arrive hungrier.

From there, my friend Tyler Unsell and I were allowed to explore the park and its various haunts at our leisure. As is always the case, I am told, the evening began with the Overlord’s Awakening, a parade of ghastly ghouls that kicked off the park’s transformation into haunted wonderland.

As I said, I wasn’t really expecting haunts qua haunts at all. And so I was pleasantly surprised to find that the haunts at Worlds of Fun are a match for just about any that I have ever attended. In rigor, each one is a notch or two below something like the Beast or Edge of Hell, Kansas City’s famous landmark haunts, each of which are multiple stories. But there are, as I mentioned, seven of them.

Themes include a zombie high school, a vampire-infested manor and crypt, a slaughterhouse, a house on the bayou, the streets of Whitechapel haunted by the crimes of Jack the Ripper, a creepy corn maze, and a village that has been overcome by a pumpkin curse. Each one has high points, and each one probably takes about 20 minutes to explore.

They are also surprisingly gory. The other thing I had assumed about the Worlds of Fun event was that it would probably be bowdlerized. “Family friendly.” But these haunts were every bit as grisly as any I have attended, with the slaughterhouse, in particular, giving the most gruesome a run for its money.

This is less a sales pitch for the Halloween Haunt at Worlds of Fun – already an extremely popular Halloween staple here in Kansas City – than it is an opportunity for me to admit when I’m wrong. I had always overlooked this particular venture, in spite of my fondness for haunted attractions, and when I finally went, I had a blast.

It’s always nice when things work out that way…

If you also follow me on social media, then you probably already know that I co-host a monthly podcast called the Horror Pod Class with Tyler Unsell of Signal Horizon. You probably also know that we record it live at the Stray Cat Film Center, after hosting a free screening of the movie that we’re talking about that month.

You may even know that last night we screened and discussed Insidious. What you’re less likely to know, unless you’ve been following me for a very long time, is that I’m a big fan of Insidious, and of James Wan’s horror films more broadly. Which is perhaps not unusual, given that they are actually extremely popular, but within horror circles they seem to often be regarded as somehow bad, even by people who should know better.

This is not intended as an apologia for Insidious or Wan, though. I’ve written those before and, frankly, looking at the box office take of pretty much anything the dude has done since Dead Silence, he doesn’t need my help. The purpose of all this is to establish that I have seen Insidious a whole bunch of times before last night, and I’m looking forward to catching the new one in a week or so.

Despite this, I noticed something last night that hadn’t ever clicked for me before. For those who haven’t seen Insidious, the story involves astral projection into a spooky version of the astral plane that the movie calls “the Further.” (Also, the working title of the film.)

Probably for budgetary reasons (even though it looks pretty great, Insidious only cost about a million dollars to make), the Further looks just like the regular world, if the regular world were a Halloween haunted house. Which is to say, it’s darker, and there’s fog everywhere. Also, waxy ghosts.

That is, it looks like that with one exception. The movie is about the Lambert family, and their son Dalton, who is in a coma. Spoilers for a movie that’s over a decade old, but it turns out that he’s in a coma because he has astrally projected and been trapped outside his body, and there are ghosts and things trying to get in. I say “and things,” but it’s mostly ghosts. The one non-ghost thing is a demon that the movie calls “the Man with Fire on His Face,” but that fans and detractors have dubbed, in proper Pinhead fashion, the Lipstick Demon.

The Lipstick Demon lives in a frankly delightful, weird, red-litten lair within the Further, on the other side of a red door (red doors become extremely important in the series, to the extent that the new, fifth and final film, is subtitled The Red Door). He has decorated this lair to his liking, including chandeliers, a sculpture of a horse, a carnival mask, and some nice marionettes. He’s also got a grindstone in there where he can sharpen his cool metal claw while listening to Tiny Tim, as one does.

For the longest time – until last night – I regarded the demon’s lair as the one part of the Further that wasn’t simply an analogue to some part of the Lamberts’ house, tied to the experiences of the person journeying in it. Which makes sense. Unlike the ghosts who inhabit the Further, the demon is presumably native to there. Why would he not have a nice house of his own?

It was only last night that I realized that, while the demon’s lair is different from the rest of the Further, it also isn’t entirely separate from the reflections of the Lamberts’ house that make up the rest of the plane. Instead of being a room inside the house, as the rest of the Further is, it is the inside of their furnace.

When Dalton first encounters the Lipstick Demon, he is in the attic of the house, next to the furnace. Earlier, his mother was drawn up there as well, and spooked when the furnace kicked on. When his father ventures into the Further to rescue him from the demon, he passes through a Further version of the house, but when he reaches the attic, the furnace is gone. In its place is that red door.

Beyond it, the demon’s lair is red-lit, as I mentioned, and massive, like the inside of a cathedral. But the demon’s personal little redoubt, where he sharpens his claws and listens to his jams, is up behind a baroque window – a window that echoes the shape of the furnace’s grating.

So, the demon’s lair is both a unique space and a size-distorted space within their home, which I found delightful, adding yet another check to the list of reasons why I like this movie quite a lot, and always will, regardless of anyone else’s thoughts on it.

At the time of this writing, it will be tomorrow night. Wednesday, March 29 in the year 2023, and Tyler Unsell and I will be hosting our monthly live episode of the Horror Pod Class at the Stray Cat Film Center here in Kansas City. We’ll be showing The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre, one of the best new-to-me discoveries I’ve come across in the last few years, and probably the most obscure movie we’ve ever done. I can’t wait.

It’s the beginning of a busy string of days and weeks and months for me. April promises to keep me hopping, thanks in no small part to the annual return of Panic Fest at the Screenland. As I did last year, I’ll be covering Panic Fest for our local weirdo/dirtbag newspaper The Pitch, so keep an eye out for coverage there.

It won’t quite be my first time back in a movie theater this year. I’ve done previous episodes of the Horror Pod Class at Stray Cat, after all, and attended three installments of Analog Sunday. But I think this is will be my first time sitting down in an actual theater (Stray Cat is Stray Cat and Analog takes place in the Rewind dive bar now) to watch a first-run movie this year, besides seeing Shin Ultraman back in January.

Even before that happens, though, I’ll be back at Analog Sunday for their annual Evil Analog Easter in just over a week’s time, where we’ll be watching Spirits (1990). As is usual for me and Analog Sunday, it’s one I’ve never seen before.

Of course, that’s just the beginning. Once the next few weeks are over, there’s still more movies and more hosting in my future. Analog Sunday happens every month, of course, and there’s some cool stuff waiting in the second half of the year. The Horror Pod Class happens every month, too, and the next couple are going to be great. In April, we’ll be hosting I, Madman on April 27, and then in May it’s Folk Horror Month at Stray Cat, and we’re joining the festivities.

I originally wanted us to do Lair of the White Worm, but they were already doing it as part of their regular programming for the month, so instead I’m finally going to make Tyler watch Quatermass and the Pit. Will I then finally shut up about it? The only way to know for sure is to come out to the show and stick around afterward for our live discussion…

IF YOU DARE!

As I write this, we are less than two days away from the end of 2022 and the beginning of 2023. I’m not going to pretend that 2022 has been an especially good or easy year for… well, anyone, really. Or that 2023 looks inclined to change that trajectory overmuch. But some big things happened for me this year, most of them in the last couple of months.

Earlier in the year, the third set of books for the Iron Kingdoms: Requiem 5e RPG setting hit Kickstarter. As was the case in the previous two installments, I wrote a huge amount for these books, including some very fun stuff that I’m really looking forward to people getting to see. And, as I write this, I’m working on some future stuff in the IK setting, as well.

As usual, I wrote a lot of movie reviews (mostly for older movies getting released onto Blu-ray) and attended Panic Fest back in April, covering it for The Pitch. I also became the movies editor for Exploits, an Unwinnable publication, and acquired some fun essays on movies like The Monster Club, Night of the Devils, Anna and the Apocalypse, The Ghosts of Hanley House, and more. In fact, I kicked off my tenure by immediately making them regret putting me on staff, acquiring an essay from Perry Ruhland on Mermaid in a Manhole. And I “helped” (by not actually contributing much, ultimately) with the movie programming for the NecronomiCon in Providence, even though I then wasn’t actually able to attend due to various circumstances beyond my control.

I also continued to write three regular columns (two monthlies and one quarterly) and added another monthly, while I was at it. So, currently, I write about board games at Unwinnable, folk horror and old anthology TV shows at Signal Horizon, and whatever tickles my fancy, pretty much, at Weird Horror. (You can read my latest, on Man-Thing and Swamp Thing and the weird history of muck monsters, here.)

I continued to co-host the Horror Pod Class with Tyler Unsell of Signal Horizon and, more to the point, we switched over from just doing a standard talking heads podcast to actually hosting the movies we discuss and then recording live at the Stray Cat Film Center. We kicked that off back in March with 976-Evil, and since then we’ve shown Someone’s Watching Me!, Doctor Mordrid, The Mask (not the Jim Carrey one), Night of the Creeps, Uzumaki, Ghostwatch, Yellowbrickroad, and we sadly had to cancel Bloody New Year due to inclement weather. We’ll be kicking off the first part of our 2023 season with The Undying Monster on January 26, so if you’re local, come join us at the Stray Cat for one of my favorite werewolf (?) movies from the ’40s!

Over the course of 2022, I read 42 books, the lion’s share of which were graphic novels. That’s… far from ideal, but here we are. Of those, some notable titles include Jonathan Raab’s The Haunting of Camp Winter Falcon, Victoria Dalpe’s collection Les Femmes Grotesques, Abby Howard’s 2020 graphic novel The Crossroads at Midnight, all of the Orochi volumes that Viz has put out so far, and John Dickson Carr’s 1932 novel The Corpse in the Waxworks.

I also watched an impressive 345 movies so far in the year, though that number may increase by, like, one or two before the year is out. That’s also perilously close to an average of a movie a day, a feat only accomplished by a few days in which I watched several movies in 24 hours, such as during Panic Fest and my annual attendance of Nerdoween. At a glance, that appears to be the most I’ve watched in a single year since I started keeping a journal, which I guess is an accomplishment.

Of those, more than 265 were first-time watches for me, easily demolishing my goal of keeping to at least half “new-to-me” movies each year. Of those, some of my favorites that didn’t come out this year were The Medusa Touch (1978), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), The Glass Key (1942), The Psychic (1977), Jigsaw (1962), War of the Gargantuas (1966), The Flying Phantom Ship (1969), and Mute Witness (1995). You can see the rest of the list over here. By far the best new-to-me movie that I saw in 2022, however, was The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre (1964), one of my favorite new discoveries in a long, long time.

As for movies that came out in 2022, I saw a surprising number of those, as well. Around 35, in fact. We’ll be discussing our favorites on the Horror Pod Class in January, so I won’t do a top 5 or anything, but despite a lot of perfectly good movies this year, very few of the year’s new releases (that I saw) were anything that I fell in love with. There was no Malignant this year, is what I’m saying.

So, that’s all the (substantial, as it turns out) bookkeeping stuff taken care of. With all that going on, it is perhaps unsurprising that I didn’t publish a lot of new fiction in 2022, and of the five or so stories I did put out, two are original to my newest collection. And maybe that’s the biggest news, at least from a professional standpoint: How to See Ghosts & Other Figments, my third collection from Word Horde and my fourth overall, came out in October, though at the time I was a little distracted.

You see, in October we also bought a new house! And I’ve been a little distracted ever since then because, to be frank, a lot has gone wrong since we moved in. We still love the house, though! It just seems that the people who sold it to us don’t particularly love us. (And we’re not terribly fond of them, at this point.)

Those have been the two biggest changes in a year filled with personal milestones – my twentieth wedding anniversary was also earlier this year, for example. As I said, 2023 promises to be filled with new challenges along with a bunch of the same old challenges and honestly, the world is probably just going to be on fire for the foreseeable future. But I’m hopeful that I can achieve some more milestones, too. My goals for 2023 include more reading, publishing more stories, and hopefully some exciting surprises for my readers. Plus, of course, more of the same, too.

“It was the start of the year in our old Celtic lands, and we’d be waiting in our houses of wattles and clay. The barriers would be down, you see, between the real and the unreal, and the dead might be looking in to sit by our fires of turf.”
Halloween 3 (1982)

However you feel about them, traditions are one of the ways we anchor ourselves – to the past, to our families and friends, to the world we know. From traditions that are part of cultural norms (presents at Christmas, fireworks at the 4th of July, the basic structures of weddings and funerals) to personal rituals that are bespoke for each individual, we all have them.

For me, one tradition that has settled in over the past decade is Nerdoween. It happens every October, hosted by the gents from the Nightmare Junkhead podcast. A themed triple-feature of horror movies, with the titles a mystery until the picture begins to roll. I went to the very first one, eight years ago now, and saw both Demons and Night of the Demons for the first time. (The third film on the docket was Demon Knight, but by then it was early morning and I had just watched Demon Knight the week before, as it happened.)

My adopted brother, Jay, came with me to that first Nerdoween, and he’s been with me at every one since. Over the course of the intervening years, I’ve seen twenty more movies courtesy of Nerdoween, skipping out on only one, for similar reasons to why I missed Demon Knight that first time around. Of those movies, 22 in total, counting that first year, nine were first-time watches. Which, given how many horror movies I’ve consumed, is a pretty good average. Every year but two I saw at least one movie for the first time.

This year’s theme was eating, and the movie I saw for the first time was Gnaw: The Food of the Gods 2 (1989), which was an experience. I did that over this previous weekend, when I also partook of a somewhat less long-lived but equally vital Halloween tradition: an Analog Sunday double feature, this time watching Dead Inn (1997) and Witches Sabbath (2005).

For those who have been following along for a while, you’ll know that Analog Sunday has become an important part of my life over the last few years. Through it, I’ve seen all sorts of movies I would probably otherwise never have experienced and, even more importantly, made some of my closest friends. Recently, it has moved into the Rewind bar in the basement of the Screenland Armour, which has been accompanied by some growing pains, but this double-feature was back upstairs and felt like a return to old times.

After watching five movies at the Screenland in two days, I drove back just two days later and hosted a screening of House on Haunted Hill (1999), a movie that has been a favorite since I first saw it in its Halloween theatrical run. Back then, I had never seen the original 1959 version, which has since become my literal favorite movie of all time.

The screening was fun. Haunted Hill ’99 makes for good seasonal programming. Spooky and campy and occasionally genuinely deranged. We had a good crowd, including one person who was seeing her first horror movie in a theatre. I think she picked a good one to start.

Eli, who hosts Analog Sunday, loaned me his tombstone props, and so I was able to decorate the place for some ambiance – harkening back to when I first saw the much worse haunted house movie of 1999, Jan de Bont’s frankly terrible remake of The Haunting, on opening night in a Wichita theatre whose lobby was decked out in fog machines and fake headstones.

That’s almost it for me this Halloween season, when it comes to appearances and theatrical endeavors. There’s just one left – another thing that has become a monthly staple, hosting a movie followed by a live podcast at the Stray Cat Film Center. It’s something that we’ve only been doing for a short while now, but it’s going strong. Last month, we did Uzumaki, which had our best turn-out to date. For Halloween, on October 27, we’re showing the movie that I’m probably most excited about of anything we’ve done yet: the 1992 faux newscast Ghostwatch.

It’s going to be a special night. And, in a lot of ways, the culmination of what has felt like a special Halloween season, despite some behind-the-scenes things that have kept me busier and less engaged than I might otherwise be. And the season isn’t over yet. There should be some news about my next collection, How to See Ghosts & Other Figments, coming very soon now…

October is an important month to me. I’ve talked a lot about this before. As a horror writer and person who predominantly consumes horror media, it’s a big time of year for me. Most years for the past decade or so, I’ve had a new book coming out in October, and this year will (hopefully) be no different, assuming supply chain issues don’t kick How to See Ghosts & Other Figments a little later into the season.

None of that is really why I love October so much, though. I love Halloween. It’s my favorite time of year. I love the grinning pumpkins, the autumn leaves, the fake cobwebs, and all that jazz. I love the fun of it, the carnival curtain covering the morbid reminder of our own mortality. I love autumn, the time of year that feels most right to me.

Every October, in various ways and for various reasons, I try to make the month feel special. For myself, for my friends and family, and for those who follow me online. This year, some things have come up. Nothing bad. In fact, some possibly quite good. But they’re going to change the dynamic of how I spend my time over the coming weeks.

Most years, I try to do a #31NightsofHalloween countdown on Twitter, running through what I’m watching, reading, and otherwise imbibing to celebrate the season. I’ll still be doing that, but there’s a real chance that I won’t be consuming quite as much as I otherwise would.

There are still some really exciting events happening in October. Nerdoween on the 15th, Analog Sunday on the 16th, and Tyler Unsell and I hosting Ghostwatch on the 27th at the Stray Cat Film Center. Not to mention my book which, hopefully, I’ll have more news about soon. And I’ll probably fit more other stuff in around that than even I am expecting. But if October is a little quiet this year, it’s not for any bad reason, and not for lack of enthusiasm.

The spirit, as they say, is willing.

In the meantime, I’ve seen a lot of folks asking for recommendations for movies to watch during the spooky season, and over on Twitter I’ve compiled a thread (two of them, actually) of some of the best ones I’ve ever seen that most folks never talk about. These are not just some oddities (that I love) that I have encountered over the years. These are, at least for my money, dyed-in-the-wool classics, every bit the match of their more famous counterparts, in various ways, and any one of them should be a guaranteed homerun for your Halloween viewing.