Ireland Unseen: Trade the Checklist for the Craic

When it comes to travel, I’ve filled passport pages across six continents. But the moments that stick with me? They’re not the ones spent dashing from photo op to photo op or racking up miles on a bus with a sunrise wake-up call and a 10-minute stop at a medieval ruin.

They’re the ones where I lingered. Where I sat with a pint in a pub, talking with locals about folklore and family. The ones where I had the freedom to skip a scheduled site because the fog rolling over the Irish hills told a better story than anything in a guidebook.

That’s the essence of slow travel, and it’s at the heart of IrelandUnseen.com, happening May 2026.

Slow travel is about choosing depth over speed — quality over quantity. It means multi-night stays in authentic towns instead of hotel hopping across the country. It means traveling in small groups that allow for spontaneous adventures (like a pop-up trad session with a fiddler in a stone-walled pub), and having Irish guides who bring their homeland to life in ways Google never could.

And there’s science to back this up: A study from NYU found that quality experiences — not the number of activities — are what create lasting, emotionally rich memories source. Slow travel fosters meaningful engagement with local communities, encourages personal reflection, and creates space to absorb the culture rather than just consume it.

That’s why Ireland Unseen isn’t just about what you see — it's about what you feel. Sure, there’s time for epic photos. But there’s also time to be a little creeped out by ghost stories, to laugh with a local storyteller, to wander a fairy path, or just sit still with your own thoughts.

Because the best travel stories aren’t just told. They’re lived.

Join me May 2026. Limited to 20 adventurers.

Star Wars & Relationships: How The Force is Strong With Friends, Family, Lovers

The Force has always sounded a lot like love to me. An energy between all things, that surrounds us, and penetrates us, Obi-Wan told Luke it binds the galaxy together. And wielding it allows a user to do incredible things.

I tap into what feels a lot like the Force when I do something kind for someone, share a quiet moment with a loved one, or receive generosity from another. I feel bound and connected, not only to people, but to something greater than myself. Yes, there is the Dark Side, but even that seems to spring from a perversion of love.

Without specifically attributing every act of love or goodness to the Force, Star Wars presents inspirational relationship models. It offers a variety of examples to strive for, and teaches lessons about how to strengthen our own bonds.

Yesterday we celebrated Valentine’s Day, a holiday primarily dedicated to the celebration of romantic love. But for a Force Friday, I wanted to talk about my favorite relationships in Star Wars that highlights the energy between all things.

Han and Chewbacca

Chewie is not just a co-pilot, he is the definition of a wingman, or wing-Wookiee, I suppose. And we could all use a best friend like him. There are countless moments when he is faithfully there to support Han -- even when the scruffy-looking smuggler is tripping over his own bravado. Whether it’s ditching the Rebels, making a bad business decision to haul rathtars, or joining the coaxium heist on Kessel, he stays by Han’s side. Chewbacca might give Han grief, or remind him of the last time the human was acting like a dope, but one doesn’t get the feeling that the Wookiee holds it over his head too much. (And Chewie is certainly tall enough to hold anything over someone’s head.) In my life, I have been Han in this equation far too frequently. But the takeaway is to love your friends, even if they are not being the brightest. Offer advice, and deliver the occasional well-timed eye roll and snarky growl, but be there for them without judgement.

Obi-Wan and Anakin

There is an exception to the Chewbacca maxim of sticking by your friends, and it’s when someone in your life is heading down a dark path of no return. At the end of Revenge of the Sith, Obi-Wan’s pain is deeply felt as he confronts his brother about the destructive choices Anakin has made. Essentially breaking the Jedi Code, he tells the younger Jedi he loves him, but he also must be stopped. While real life situations don’t typically involve lightsaber battles on the molten surface of Mustafar, Obi-Wan is holding an intervention. Anakin is killing himself with the poison of the Dark Side, and though it means sacrificing their relationship, Obi-Wan is compelled to step in. The lesson is sometimes you can love a person so much that the best thing to do is challenge their toxic inclinations, and risk losing them. And perhaps even walk away from them rather than stand by as they continue on the path to destruction.

Sabine and Clan Wren

Clearly there are quite a few family stories in Star Wars, and the theme of redemption is a recurring one. But the story of Sabine and Clan Wren is incredibly relatable because it boils down to homecoming, and finding common ground with your relatives. Sabine Wren returns to her home planet of Krownest (Star Wars Rebels, “Legacy of Mandalore”) for the first time since running away. She is branded a traitor, and receives a chilly welcome from her mother, Ursa, who also disapproves of her daughter’s Rebel ways. Clan Wren has aligned itself with the Empire, and Ursa imprisons Ezra and Kanan. The episode has the feel of a tumultuous Thanksgiving dinner where divisive politics come up, and the family dismisses another member’s lifestyle, career choice, or friends. Like Sabine, it is important to be true to yourself, but also speak a message of love – even if your family is uttering crazy talk. Sabine basically tells her mother, “I love you, I hear you, but this is who I am.” Sometimes the best thing we can do for family members we disagree with is listen, but re-affirm our deeply-held beliefs.

Yoda and Luke

While Obi-Wan was the wise and knowing mentor to Luke, Yoda’s relationship with young Skywalker resembles a grandparent/grandchild dynamic. Yoda has been bouncing around the galaxy for 900 years, and has seen some stuff. Meanwhile, Luke in The Empire Strikes Back is still fresh on his path. He is cocky, and a bit of a know it all. Yoda teaches him to have a sense of humor, and be playful. However, he also conveys that it’s important for Luke to exhibit patience, and just slow down a little. There are many relationship lessons to take away from Dagobah, but one of the big ones is to appreciate the knowledge and life experience of those who are older. And to remember that, while they may appear to be slower, they still have a lot of worth.

Rey and Finn, Rose and Finn

Finn is a growth character. He performs heroically in The Force Awakens, largely because of his feelings for Rey, but he becomes a hero in The Last Jedi because of the inspiration from Rose. There is a lot of Finn in all of us because he’s figuring out who he is, and what purpose drives him. He possesses much uncertainty, but has a good heart. With Rey, he experiences what it means to care about a person, but she is also someone he has romantic feelings for. That appears to evolve, and he is able to pursue a meaningful platonic friendship with her. Meanwhile, Rose teaches Finn the importance of caring for people he doesn’t know, and caring about a mission bigger than himself. There are multiple messages of love to learn from Finn’s journey. But the biggest is to have empathy for others, even for strangers, and to believe there is merit in working towards for a larger cause.

Luke and Darth Vader/Han and Ben Solo/Rey and Kylo Ren

A recurring theme is Star Wars is the unwavering hope that there is good in people, and that even villains can change. The dedication to this ideal might come at the cost of one’s own life. Luke is willing to sacrifice himself to the Emperor, not simply because of his commitment to the Light Side of the Force, but also because he believes his father is still inside of Vader. And Han’s confrontation with his son, imploring him to turn away from the Dark Side, results in his own death. Rey, who witnessed Han’s murder at the hands of Kylo Ren, still offers him a chance to reject evil. Simply, this conviction throughout every movie demonstrates an inherent love of good, and a belief that redemption is available to everyone. It betrays cynicism, and it is quite a difficult, but worthwhile, form of love for the human spirit.

Han’s Rescue from Jabba’s Palace

From a practical standpoint, rescuing Han from Jabba is a waste of time and resources during the war against the Empire. But the all-hands plot for the life of one man in Return of the Jedi conveys the importance of Rose Tico’s line, “We’re going to win this war, not by fighting what we hate, but saving what we love.” There is a deep emotional connection between Leia, Luke, Lando, Chewie, and even Threepio and Artoo for Han, and that makes it worth it to save him at all costs – even if it means losing their own lives. This is incredibly powerful stuff. What it teaches us in the real world is that we are only as strong as our weakest friend, and we must rally to be there for them in times of crisis. Whether it may be due to a break up, losing a job, or even moving, we all should pitch in with a rescue.

Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus

All due respect to Han and Leia, but the romantic love between Hera and Kanan is my favorite within Star Wars canon. Granted, they only finally kissed in the Rebels Season Four episode “Kindred” (the almost moment in “The Machine in the Ghost” doesn’t count). Theirs is the love of a couple with history between them. In many ways, they resemble parents on the Ghost, trying to raise kids, and keep the family together. But they are also two people who often must pursue their personal missions separate from one another, across long distances. They disagree, fight, bicker, and banter, but also possess a casual intimacy and exhibit a maturity in the relationship. And through it all, they are genuine friends with a mutual respect. I think the message to take away from Hera and Kanan is to communicate with the person you love, but also check your ego so it doesn’t get in the way of your happiness.

Leia and Han

If I didn’t include these two, the bounty on my head would be big enough to buy a new set of wrappings for Dengar. So what can be said about this couple that hasn't already been said? Over the course of the saga, we have seen Han Solo and Leia Organa’s relationship mature. The passion between these two has always been flirtatious, and a little dangerous. Yet, it is authentic, and sincere. They come from different worlds, but are equals (actually Leia is definitely out of Han's league). And if they didn’t love one another, they’d probably kill each other. One of the best couples in cinema history, we can all learn from Leia and Han to love a person who challenges you, and pushes you out of your comfort zone, but is ultimately there to tell you (and show you) they love you. Of course, keep stoking the fires as well because these two never lost their heat.

Poe and BB-8

I want to find someone who looks at me like Poe looks at BB-8, and vice versa. Seriously, the pure joy shared between pilot and astromech cannot be denied. So, what's the lesson? Simple. Give into irrepressible happiness with those you love. Also, be nice to droids, and animals. 

The Myths Behind Jordan Peele's 'Us'

[Author’s Note: This article was published in 2019 at The Hollywood Reporter’s Heat Vision section]

Jordan Peele's upcoming horror movie Us suggests there are dark consequences to meeting your double.

The film revolves around a family setting off on a beach vacation to a woman’s childhood home. Played by Lupita Nyong’o, Adelaide Wilson begins to re-live trauma from her past and notices eerie coincidences. She becomes certain something bad is going to happen to her family, and judging by the spot that debuted on Super Bowl Sunday, she's right.

According to Peele, the concept behind the monsters of Us, called The Tethered, comes from the idea that “we’re our own worst enemy.” He has said he wanted to explore duality, the connections between characters and their counterparts. The title itself is as likely to refer to the relationship between twin spirits as the relationship between family members. 

To understand Us ahead of its March opening, it's time to look to the folkloric, mythological, and paranormal pop culture evolution of doppelgangers.

READ MORE At The Hollywood Reporter

David Bowie: Exploring the Starman's legacy in genre and sci-fi three years after his death

[Author’s Note: A version of this article originally appeared on Syfy.com]

To borrow from one of his lyrics, he was in the best-selling show, and it was one of the freakiest shows we have had the benefit of watching. David Bowie was a musical icon and accomplished actor, and with his death on Sunday, January 10, 2016, at age 69, he is legend.

But along with being a musical genius, Bowie was also the coolest nerd around, who loved sci-fi and contributed to the genre on multiple occasions. And as a way of memorializing him, let us briefly revisit the top times he made his mark in nerd circles -- accompanied by a few song suggestions.

"Life on Mars?"

As a teen in South London, David Bowie helped edit a UFO newsletter and believed in extraterrestrial life. In the February 1975 issue of Creem magazine, he talked about how he’d have multiple nightly UFO sightings for about a year. He additionally went on record discussing other sightings over the years. He also told Dick Cavett in 1974 that he preferred flying in saucers to airplanes, and demonstrated their method of propulsion.

"Scary Monsters"

Bowie brought his fabulous rock ‘n’ roll weirdness to the role of Jareth the Goblin King in Jim Henson’s dark fantasy film Labyrinth in 1986 (which was produced by Lucasfilm, and upon which George Lucas contributed to the script). The big hair, in-film songs, the crystal orbs he played with … the codpiece. Everything about Jareth made the antagonist an iconic part of the cult film (which was, sadly, a commercial failure when released). Though not a goblin himself, and likely a fae, Jareth would appear in Marvel Comics tie-ins with the film. Instead of being a baby-snatching Goblin King, Bowie -- who recorded five songs for the movie -- said Jareth would rather be living down in Soho. Interesting tidbit: The ballroom dance scene in the movie was choreographed by Gates McFadden, the future Dr. Beverly Crusher.

"Thursday’s Child"

Bowie plays physicist and inventor Nikola Tesla in Christopher Nolan’s 2006 film about magic, The Prestige. Without revealing too much about his role, the futurist (and designed of the alternating current electricity supply system) creates a machine for Hugh Jackman’s magician character. The appearance of Tesla in the movie, which I personally think is Nolan’s best work, is itself a fun surprise, but to be played by Bowie adds a whole other level of cool to it. (And yes, Tesla was born on a Thursday, so Bowie’s song title above works.)

"Never Get Old"

David Bowie likewise impacted the horror world. In the 1983 film The Hunger, directed by Tony Scott, he portrays a vampire who begins to age rapidly, and is part of a love triangle with his maker (Catherine Deneuve) and a human doctor (Susan Surandon). While the film isn’t considered a great, it is richly atmospheric and dark, and has no shortage of eroticism and blood. Deemed a “post-modernist vampire film” by feminist literary critic Elaine Showalter, The Hunger also has a legacy for using vampirism as an allegory for bisexuality and lesbianism. It also has a following in the goth subculture. For his part, Bowie thought the story was unique but told Rolling Stone he was worried it was too bloody. Right around the same time, Bowie also performed the theme song "Cat People (Putting Out Fire)" for the 1982 erotic horror remake Cat People. Composed by Giorgio Moroder with Bowie's lyrics, the song was eventually included on his '83 album Let's Dance. Fun fact: The movie featured a young Willem Dafoe as "1st Phone Booth Youth"; Bowie and Dafoe would eventually appear together in The Last Temptation of Christ and Basquiat.

"Strangers When We Meet"

“Who do you think this is, there?” pretty much sums up David Bowie’s bizarre scene in the bizarre 1992 David Lynch movie Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. Although we’ve never met him before, and he doesn’t seem to know Dale Cooper when he directs that line to him, Bowie’s Agent Phillip Jeffries remains a mystery within the Twin Peaks-verse. After missing for two years, Jeffries walks off an elevator, raving and relaying stories involving The Man From Another Place and BOB. Then he vanishes once more. His story was to be pursued in future movies or TV episodes, but Fire Walk With Me was a flop at the box office, and Jeffries’ story was never fully told.

"Moonage Daydream"

Beyond his musical achievements, Bowie is perhaps best known for his first starring role in the 1976 film The Man Who Fell To Earth. The sci-fi classic, based on Walter Trevis’ 1963 novel of the same name, is without a doubt high concept. Bowie plays extraterrestrial Thomas Jerome Newton on a mission to Earth to retrieve water for his drought-stricken world. After crashing, he poses as a human and amasses wealth using his alien tech to patent inventions on our world, and develops a fondness for vodka and television. He is eventually discovered, imprisoned, and subjected to experiments and loveless sex. Interestingly legal issues prevented Bowie from being involved musically with the film, so the cult film rests squarely on his acting. The film has its issues but it is nonetheless quite beautiful, and Bowie is unsurprisingly engaging and a thrill to watch. And it is no doubt an original story, which makes it a must-see 40 years later.

"Starman"

Three years before the world met Ziggy Stardust, David Bowie’s 1969 single "Space Oddity" (released just five days before the Apollo 11 launch first put men on the moon) is about astronaut Major Tom who becomes lost in space. It was his first big hit in the UK -- and an early example of the musician’s fascination with space and science fiction. The re-recorded version of the single became his first hit stateside in 1973. The song, which has allusions to 2001: A Space Odyssey, is arguably the most famous space rock tune out there. Its legacy cannot be overstated for both genre and popular culture as a whole, but it literally became part of space exploration when International Space Station Commander Chris Hadfield covered the song while on board in 2013. Bowie brought Major Tom back in the songs “Ashes to Ashes,” “Hallo Spaceboy,” and, finally, in “Blackstar,” the title track on the album released on his Jan. 8, 2016, birthday. (An avid sci-fi reader, Bowie's Starman was influenced by the 1953 Robert A. Heinlein children's book, Starman Jones. He also referenced Ray Bradbury's 1951 book The Illustrated Man in his song "Karma Man," and interpreted George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four for Diamond Dogs.)

"Ziggy Stardust"

How does one sum up the importance of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars in just a few words? David Bowie’s concept album was his fifth, released in 1972, and is about a rock star who happens to be a bisexual alien with a message of peace for humanity. The glam rock album -- and basis for the concert film where Bowie portrayed the androgynous Stardust -- tells a rich, trippy story, and is hands-down one of the best albums. Ever. Of his extensive contributions to music and pop culture, this is Bowie’s greatest.

"Fame"

Pardon the hyperbole, but, to me, David Bowie transcended simple human existence. I never thought of him as David Bowie the man so much as David Bowie, the Starman posing as human -- and making being human seem way cooler than the rest of us could. And I don't think I am alone in that estimation. Bowie as cultural icon influenced countless creatives who loved paying tribute to him. There are far too many to list, but let's name just a few recent ones. The speculative fiction British series Life On Mars had nods to Bowie all over. Beyond naming the series after one of his songs (and using another Bowie song, "Ashes to Ashes," as the name for its sequel series), co-creators Matthew Graham, Tony Jordan, and Ashley Pharoah used his music throughout the show. In the second season finale of The Venture Bros., The Sovereign -- the shadowy leader of The Guild of Calamitous Intent -- is revealed to be none other than Bowie (or is perhaps a shapeshifter who looks like Bowie, but whose true form is the creature on the cover of the Diamond Dogs album). The musical comedy act Flight of the Conchords dedicated an episode of their HBO show to him, where a dream version of David Bowie (played by Jemaine Clement) appears, and the duo sing the Bowie-esque song "Bowie's in Space." Clement again channels Bowie in the Rick and Morty episode "Mortynight Run" when, as the gaseous alien Fart, he sings the tune "Goodbye Moonmen." The Season 26 Elon Musk-centric episode of The Simpsons featured "Starman" in the closing scene as the inventor traveled to space. Additionally, in a high point of American Horror Story: Freak Show, Jessica Lange sang a version of "Life on Mars." As news spread of his death, the science community joined the public, and entertainment industry, in posting farewells. NASA tweeted the quote, "And the stars look very different today," and Neil deGrasse Tyson asked if some forms of creativity had to be generated by a space oddity who fell to the earth. And the aforementioned Hadfield cover of "Space Oddity"? It currently has about 42 million views on YouTube. 

"Sound and Vision"

In addition to the Ziggy Stardust concert film/motion picture, David Bowie’s music video output (51 one of them) often touched on genre elements. The original "Space Oddity" video is a cosmic hippie mini-movie, and while not necessarily his best, it’s a surreal experiment. I still don’t understand the “Ashes to Ashes” music video -- and the purpose of the bulldozer remains a mystery to me -- but it feels like the whole song unfolds on an alien planet with an insane asylum run by Clive Barker. He tapped into horror in “Look Back in Anger,” where he’s creepily painting a portrait of himself, and becoming a painting himself. His final videos, “Blackstar” and “Lazarus,” are packed with science fiction and fantasy: The black Coraline button eyes, the monster under the bed, an eclipse, a girl with a tail, the mystical skull, writhing disciples, and an astronaut (Major Tom!). Blackstar producer Tony Visconti (and longtime Bowie collaborator) said the videos, specifically “Lazarus,” were meant to be parting gifts from the ailing Bowie to his fans. In a Facebook post, Visconti said, "His death was no different from his life - a work of Art … He made Blackstar for us, his parting gift.” By the way, Blackstar is Bowie’s 25th studio album, and the first that did not feature his face on the cover.

David Bowie died three years ago today.

FROM THE ARCHIVES: Speaking to Newsnight in 1999, he predicted the internet was going to have "unimaginable" effects on society and "change the state of content" forever

Watch the interview here: https://t.co/q7KDImp750#newsnight | #tbt pic.twitter.com/TZcXrfXMYB

— BBC Newsnight (@BBCNewsnight) January 10, 2019

"Oh! You Pretty Things"

Finally, Bowie also gave the world Duncan Jones, the director behind the excellent science fiction films Moon (based on his own story) and Source Code, as well as the Warcraft fantasy film. “Oh! You Pretty Things” was actually written shortly before Jones was born in 1971, and conveys the anxieties of becoming a parent for the first time through the lens of an alien invasion. Clearly Bowie passed along his love of genre to his son. And passed along his gift for seeing the potential of the future, based on the recently unearthed clip from 1999, where Bowie discusses the possibilities of the internet.

Before you go, check out my video retrospective of Labyrinth, which I wrote and did voiceover for, for Syfy.

Anthony Bourdain and the Dangerous Myth of Having it All

[Author’s Note: I wrote this deeply personal piece in 2018 for Huffington Post in response to the tragic death of Anthony Bourdain, a man I had spoken with several times, who served as an inspiration. It may be the most read work I’ve done, and was the strongest performer on the HuffPost Personal section for the month. I am heartened by how many people have reached out, saying it helped them.]

Anthony Bourdain joked about failing upward, about making every mistake imaginable yet still ending up with a dream job. He was paid to travel the world, talk about food, and share stories about people. So when the news broke Friday that he had died by suicide, it came as a particular shock.

Bourdain and designer Kate Spade, who also died by suicide this past week, inspired millions and seemingly “had it all.” From the outside looking in, it is difficult to understand how things got so bad for these celebrities when everything about their lives appeared so good. 

It would be offensive for me to speculate about what led to these tragedies. However, I can relate to seemingly having it all.

For the better part of 14 years, I have made a living as an entertainment journalist, pundit and television host. I have been paid to travel the world and speak with fascinating people while trying all manner of food and having one adventure after another.

And for an entire year, I wanted to die.

In addition to his literal height advantage over me, Anthony Bourdain was a guy I figuratively looked up to, and who had a gig I wanted. He was gracious with his time, and he invited me along for a drink when I first met him on an interview in 2007 when he was doing publicity for a No Reservations book connected to his Travel Channel series.

We spoke numerous times and, in 2012, as he was making the move from Travel to CNN for ”Parts Unknown,” I happened to be in production as a host and co-executive producer for a show on the Travel Channel. At a publicity event for his Get Jiro! graphic novel at his former spot Brasserie Les Halles, we had bone marrow, and he gave me advice about working with the network.

Time passed, and I was exceptionally proud to have built a career doing everything I wanted to do. My family never had much money to travel when I was a kid, so filling a passport with stamps from my own parts unknown was a level up for my life. My job became talking about superheroes, science fiction, folklore and the paranormal. I shared the stage with heroes and filmed segments spelunking into ice caves, racing muscle cars, skulking around supposedly haunted buildings, and ladling seemingly ancient spirits direct from freshly tapped barrels. Hell, I rode in one of Adam West’s Batmobiles and a DeLorean. Life was good.

But in the relatively short span of 12 months, my marriage fell apart, I experienced significant health problems, had to move unexpectedly, a big project fell through, and I was let go from a job under what I believed were unfair circumstances. Although I had not experienced it before, these events triggered a clinical depression. 

Every day I contemplated my own death. On the darkest days, these ideations were pronounced, detailed and dangerously close to an actionable plan. Other days, I clenched my fist in rage, shouting at a deity I didn’t believe in, imploring him or her to do the deed for me in the way of a massive heart attack or out-of-control New York City bus.

The visual I conjured when I’ve thought about my own depression is George A. Romero’s ghouls. I felt like the slow runner in the apocalypse, the one who couldn’t outpace the zombies. They caught up with me when I tripped and fell, and were on me, digging their rotted fingers into my abdomen, ripping me open while I remained conscious. I would watch them devour me alive, but felt too paralyzed and powerless to fight them off, and I wanted to call out for my mother, or my ex, but there wasn’t enough voice left in me to do so. And I was afraid that if I mustered the cry that no one would come to save me from the ghouls anyhow.

I was acutely aware that I did not want these feelings, but they were there anyhow, always either driving the car or loudly riding shotgun. My internal monologue read something like: “Nope, don’t want to be here, not worth it, I’m not worth it, I hate myself, I hate how I am, I hate who I’ve become, but, hey, this fancy work dinner in London is pretty swell.”

Sometimes I admitted aloud that I no longer wished to live. I openly asked others what my worth was. Most of the time, though, I just privately carried this wish to be no more.

I still worked. But the energy I brought to the stage or camera, to hype up crowds or do silly stunts with celebrities, was hollow. The “me” that was the authentic, joyful person on the job became the mask. As I would continue to have adventures and enviable gigs, good-natured friends and supporters would post on social media, “Jealous,” “You’re so lucky,” “I hate you,” and, “I want your life.” In response, I would quietly think, “I hate me too,” and “Please, take my life.”

There were great days as well. Those days spent with loved ones, or feeling high from a job well done. Those days where I felt like I had nailed it, cracked the code, and had finally shed the pain from the past year and was back to my old self.

But inevitably, at the end of those days, I returned home, or to a hotel room I would not have been able to afford on my own. I would once again realize that “I” was the alter ego. The mask would come off, and the grotesque husk would emerge.

The pressure to deliver, to be the person others expect you to be, to live it up and love a life and job others would kill for just served to cement the mask in place. For me, I felt like I had to appear “together,” and that being grateful for my success meant I wasn’t allowed to feel so broken.

I felt I couldn’t allow myself to admit to such pain and “weakness” publicly for risk of damaging my “brand.” The stigma feels real. Who would want to hire the guy who had felt so much pain he couldn’t bring himself to even move from a hotel sofa for several hours at a time, physically weighted down and staring ahead, numb and completely still like a cadaver positioned upright?

I remained quiet. And when I was dangerously close to the precipice, I got some help, and things did begin to turn around. Over time. I re-familiarized myself with who I am versus the depression I have battled.

Again, I cannot presume to know what Anthony Bourdain or Kate Spade or anyone who struggles with suicidal thoughts is going through precisely. But I can confidently say no one wants to feel like they are fighting their own mind, and emotions, and losing. And I believe most people put on a mask and tell themselves a variation of, “Why am I dealing with this when I’ve got it good?” or, “I have a great job, or spouse and kids who love me.” Or, “I have it all.” This thinking created a toxic cocktail for me, in particular, because it prevented me from seeking treatment (and in the depths of depression, you don’t even feel worthy of being saved).

If you are hurting, I really want you to reach out to a friend, and call a hotline. Get help. Please.

And if you are that friend, go ahead and reach out to people, even those that seem like they have it all together. Because when the demons of depression claw at someone’s insides, it isn’t about how many followers they have or how many stamps are in their passport or how much money is in the bank.  

You can appear to have it all and still feel like you’re not enough or still want to die. And the truth is, it is a dangerous myth to believe anyone can ever have it all. But you can have help, and there is no shame in seeking it out.

Season's Screamings: The creepiest Christmas creatures, and seasonal spectres from fiction, folklore

[Author’s Note: An earlier version of this article appeared on Syfy.com in 2017]

Ho, ho, h’oh god, no! Along with the jolly elves and perky gingerbread men, there are also monsters in Christmastime lore, and pop culture, that should fill you with more than a stocking-full of fear.

The spooky Christmas story is automatically associated with Charles Dickens’ 1843 novella A Christmas Carol, but the journalist-turned-novelist couldn’t take credit for creating the gimmick (although Chuck can largely have it for reminding people of traditions of yore, and rebooting the holiday in the early Victorian era as a secular, charitable observance). Dickens was a fan of Washington Irving, who -- in “Old Christmas” from The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. -- wrote of trading a “goblin tale” and stories of ghosts and fairies around the fire after “The Christmas Dinner” back in 1820.

Yet the tradition of imbuing the wintertime with elements of horror goes back at least more than 250 years prior. In 1589, Christopher Marlowe wrote of the season’s tales of “spirits and ghosts” in The Jew of Malta. Meanwhile, Shakespeare spoke of a sad story best for winter, “of sprites and goblins” in 1623’s The Winter’s Tale.

But winter’s connection to monsters goes back still further -- and is not particularly surprising considering the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere (when the veil between worlds is presumably pretty thin – all due respect to October’s Samhain) takes place around December 21. That places it in close proximity to Christmas, of course.

Even our concept of the benevolent seasonal mascot Santa Claus can be traced back to Old Norse, and Germanic Pagan, observations of the Wild Hunt or, later, Yule, when the long-bearded Odin would lead a band of hunters, not reindeer, across the sky. That band consisted of either fairies or armies of the dead.

In modern times, the tradition of the scary Christmas story continues in England (though the English cooled on the trend during the early-to-mid war-torn 20th century – at least until the 1970s annual TV tradition A Ghost Story for Christmas). And while they pale in number compared to Halloween time, there are still some holiday horror tales in the States.

The concept isn’t just relegated to the relatively new, 40-year-old holiday horror movie subgenre, either. Just look to the American classic “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” as an example. Written by two New York City kids, Edward Pola and George Wyle, and sung by Iowa’s own Andy Williams, the 1963 tune tells of “scary ghost stories” right up there with “caroling out in the snow” as part of the Christmas tradition.

With that in mind, join me as I share my favorite creatures from fiction and folklore that put the “Eee!” in “Season Greetings” and the “Ahhh!” in “Merry Christmas.”

The winged things
“The Festival” (1925)
By H.P. Lovecraft

A man travels to his ancestral home in Kingsport, Mass., during Christmastime and encounters “cowled, cloaked figures” engaged in a Yuletide ceremony in passageways beneath an old church. Then something “amorphously squatted” plays a flute that summons “a horde of tame, trained, hybrid winged things”:

"They were not altogether crows, nor moles, nor buzzards, nor ants, nor vampire bats, nor decomposed human beings … They flopped limply along, half with their webbed feet and half with their membranous wings; and as they reached the throng of celebrants the cowled figures seized and mounted them, and rode off one by one along the reaches of that unlighted river.”

Aside from his horribly racist and xenophobic ways, H.P. knew the sauce of fear, and channels it perfectly in this less than cheery Necronomicon short story.

Santa and his elves
Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (2010)
Written and directed by Jalmari Helander

Rare Exports is a horror film that serves as a parody and, as Roger Ebert wrote, is “an R-rated Santa Claus origin story crossed with The Thing.” Set in real-life Lapland, Finland, an area long associated as the home of Father Christmas, the movie explores what may happen when irresponsible drilling unearths a burial mound meant to contain a less-than-jolly beast. Children go missing, nasty elves (who are naked old men) go on the rampage, and an enormous horned Santa is about to defrost. This is a parody that doesn’t show its cards until the end, and maintains a fantasy-horror vibe that will freak the eggnog out of you.

The raven
“The Raven” (1845)
By Edgar Allan Poe

The narrator is kicking back during a dreary night in “bleak December,” minding his own business, reading old lore and trying to forget about his dead lover, Lenore. Then a talking bird comes in and starts mock-mock-mocking him with the same response to his every question. As the narrator descends into madness, the “fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core” seemingly traps the man’s soul underneath its shadow. The “thing of evil” simply stares, squawks, and does the work of a devil prophet with only one word: “Nevermore.”

Gremlins
Gremlins (1984)
Directed by Joe Dante, written by Chris Columbus

The transformative power of Christmas works in reverse in this modern comedy-horror classic. When Billy’s exotic pet mogwai Gizmo gets wet, then multiplies into multiple deceitful cuties, who then feed after midnight, they become the bipedal reptilian murder machines known as Gremlins. The monsters are ruthless in this dark comedy, which, along with Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, motivated the MPAA to create the PG-13 rating. Also, it’s creepy to think that the Gremlins design was partially inspired by the supposedly real-life Kelly-Hopkinsville goblin/UFO case of 1955. Oh yeah, and this is the movie where we learn the dangers of playing Santa and crawling down a chimney.

Kallikantzaros
Possibly late 14th century; Southeastern European folklore

So here’s the deal: In many folk myths there is a world tree, or tree of life, that grows through the earth, supports the heavens, and connects to roots in the underworld. It is pretty important, and yet there are a bunch of goblins – known collectively as the kallikantzaroi – who hang out underground trying to saw down the tree and make the world collapse. They’re not cool. During the 12 Days of Christmas, they forget about their job and emerge on the surface world to stir up things and generally wreak havoc until Epiphany.

In his study of Early Modern Europe folklore, Ecstasies: Deciphering the Witches' Sabbath, historian Carl Ginzburg described the appearance of a Kallikantzaros as:

“Monstrous beings, black, hairy, sometimes gigantic, sometimes very small, usually equipped with animal-like limbs: donkey’s ears, goatish paws, equine hooves … they are invariably males, provided with enormous sexual organs.”

Yikes! And what’s worse, if you’re a child born during the 12 Days, you run the risk of being transformed into one of these Christmas goblins.

Smee
Someone in the Room (Supernatural and Occult Fiction) (1931)
By Alfred Burrage

What could go wrong when a group of twentysomethings want to play hide-and-seek on Christmas Eve?

Perhaps nothing, but as the narrator relays the story of a game of “Smee,” a variation on the classic hiding game, it’s best always to count how many people are in your party. As he and 12 (or was it 13?) of his mates play in the house where a girl died 10 years prior, he comes upon someone hiding in the darkness: 

“The feeling of something wrong, something unnatural was growing. I remembered touching her arm, and I trembled with horror.”

Krampus
Possibly pre-Christian era; Germanic, and Eastern European folklore

Krampus is the anti-Claus, the counterpart to St. Nick. A companion of Santa’s, the Krampus is a hairy goat-like demon with horns and cloven hooves (or one hoof and one human foot) who punishes the “naughty” children. Emerging from pre-Christian Germanic folklore, he carries chains, birch sticks or whips to beat children with, and he may dish out coal, depending on the culture. But if he’s in a bad mood, he’ll stuff children in his sack or bathtub and carry them to hell for cooking. Krampus night is typically celebrated Dec. 5 in Europe, aka Krampusnacht, where people celebrate by dressing as the beast and roam the streets drinking schnapps.

You may have seen the very good 2015 horror-comedy Krampus by director Michael Dougherty, but I’d also recommend the book Krampus: The Yule Lord by Brom. The book mashes up Norse, Germanic, pagan, and Christian myths to tell a tale about this mischievous god who seeks revenge against Santa.

John Turk’s ghost
“The Kit-Bag” (1908)
By Algernon Blackwood

After 10 days spent working with the defense on the trial of John Turk -- a murderer who cut up his victim in tiny pieces, but is found not guilty due to insanity -- Johnson plans to escape for a Christmas vacation. All he needs is a kit-bag, or duffel bag, which his lawyer boss plans to loan him. After receiving the bag (“a stout canvas kit-bag, sackshaped, with holes round the neck for the brass bar and padlock”), Johnson begins to hear things in his home, and see movement.

He believes he’s simply obsessing over the murder cases until he encounters “the white skin, the evil eyes, and the fringe of black hair low over the forehead” of Turk.

And from within the bag itself, “he saw a head and face slowly sinking down out of sight as though someone were crouching behind it to hide, and at the same moment a sound like a long-drawn sigh was distinctly audible in the still air about him.” And on top? A smear of crimson.

Perhaps the bag is more than a spacious duffel for Johnson, after all?

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come
“A Christmas Carol” (1843)
By Charles Dickens

“It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.”

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is perhaps the most famous ghost of Christmas tales, as well as simply one of the most famous ghosts in fiction. The phantom spirit never speaks, but only points as it fills Ebenezer Scrooge with a “vague, uncertain horror.” Aside from its resemblance to Death itself, the spirit is especially terrifying because it reminds us all of the uncertainty of our own futures, and the reckoning we fear for past actions – and even of the existential dread that perhaps we don’t matter in the larger scheme, and no one will mourn our death.

Yeah, it’s weighty stuff.

Popular culture has given us various takes on this specter. The Bill Murray-starring/Richard Donner-directed Scrooged presents one of the more memorable versions, with the ghost’s oversized skull-face and damned souls hiding in its robes. And he can sneak in through the TV.

The especially cruel cigar-smoking, red-tinged Pete from Mickey’s Christmas Carol deserves a mention, since he terrified me as a kid when he knocked Ebenezer/Scrooge McDuck into the flames beneath his grave, mocking him as the “richest man in the cemetery.”

How Fate of the Furious steered a blockbuster to Cuba

[Author’s Note: This 2017 feature was written as a result of a press trip to Cuba with Universal — part of the Syfy family — in support of F8: Fast and Furious 8]

Dom Toretto is back in the car.

Though he intended to enjoy a quiet honeymoon in Cuba, the character played by Vin Diesel in The Fate of the Furious ends up challenged at a tune-up party in the Malecón esplanade in Old Havana. He takes the challenge, and zooms through narrow alleyways and broad streets, speeding in a muscle car through the colonial buildings of Old Havana, and flanked by motorcycles trying to ghost him.

And in the film’s rapid-paced opening sequence, he earns the respect of a local street racer and – this being Fast and Furious, after all – looks after his family.

The Fast and Furious franchise is as known for its exotic locales (e.g., the ultra-modern glass and steel skyscrapers of Abu Dhabi in the previous film) as its insane automotive stunts that would fit right in with the spectacle of a superhero or James Bond movie.

But with the eighth installment of the film series – available now on home entertainment – the most impressive stunt is, indeed, the locale. The first major Hollywood production to shoot in Cuba in 60 years, F8 also made movie history — along with $1.2 billion at the box office.

During a recent trip to Cuba to tour F8 filming locations (and just days before President Trump rolled back the Obama-era easement on travel restrictions to the country) it became clear the Fast and Furious franchise was uniquely suited to shoot in a city populated by colorful classic cars.

For those able to own and maintain one, a car is a prized possession among Cubans, and is indeed passed down among families. And those who have a classic car are part of their own unique family. Proud owners beam as bright as the paint on the vehicles as they talk up their rides, and garner respect from peers and pedestrians alike.

At one point I found myself driving past the colonial buildings of Cuba in a 1961 hot pink Ford Fairlane. It is reportedly the only one of the model in the Communist-ruled country, which — if legend is to be believed — was already on a boat to the island nation as the U.S. embargo kicked in. In my broken Spanish, I joke with the owner that he has a bit of a rockstar rep amongst other drivers for his ride, and replies that Dom Toretto would approve.

Still, while a good fit, production was not without its challenges. Namely, nothing of this scale had been done in the country before.

“No one in Cuba had ever experienced something this huge,” said Paola Larramendi, a Cuban resident, and Key Location Manager’s Assistant on The Fate of the Furious — which is something of a fixer and cultural ambassador.

“We shut down 12 blocks for three days, and it is the Malecón, the street that is used for people to go home, go to work, go to school,” she added. “Explaining to people why they could not get home until they got the shot; that was really hard.”

Speaking to Larramendi on an afternoon crowded with bustling traffic of commuter buses, motorcycles, cars, and pedestrians, one gets the sense that shutting down a big chunk of the Malecón would be like plugging a major artery in any city.

“It would be a lot easier if this was a small walk-and-talk movie with two characters on the Malecon on the sunset,” said Richard Klein, managing director with the McLarty Media firm, and International Political Advisor for the film. “This was chases, crashes, explosions … not only was this the first American movie coming here in three generations, it was a big one.”

Klein applauded the “vibrant” film community in Cuba, but admitted that F8 had a whole other set of needs. As such, the production had to bring everything in on a barge from the United States to allow filmmakers to make the film they wanted to.

“We had to bring cameras, lights, traffic cones, stop sign paddles, our own helicopter – everything you could possibly need — and you want to make certain you didn’t leave anything behind.”

“A large amount of Cubans I know had never seen a helicopter before, and not even one with a camera,” Larramendi agreed. “There was an aerial shot, and they wanted the rooftops to be clean of people, but they wanted to see the helicopters, and they didn’t move!”

She also said part of her job was to get the locals to embrace the idea of what they were trying to do, and that also involved discouraging people from stepping out of their house to see Vin Diesel driving by at 100 mph, thus blowing a take — and risking their own safety.

Oh yeah, and the movie had to bring Diesel into Cuba.

Speaking with Klein on the streets of Old Havana – surrounded by buildings at least half a century old, flanked by a mural of a Cuban flag and the infamous Che Guevara image, with the dome of El Capitolio behind us – he told me there wasn’t a political problem in setting up production. Instead, the Cuban government was receptive, and he said traditionally it has been the American side that would have blocked a project such as this.

However, in his first meeting with the government, Klein said an official appeared noncommittal – until he went home, had dinner with his family, and mentioned off-handedly about an American production called Fast and Furious.

“His kids went off like pinball machines,” said Klein.

While American movies are not legally distributed in Cuba, they are still seen. People purchase the paquete semanal, or “weekly package,” which is a hard drive with a terabyte of movies and television shows from America, and around the world.

And the Fast and Furious films are a hit in a country with an impassioned car culture. (There were about three times while I was in Cuba that a local fan showed me their downloaded copy of a cell phone.)

Said Larramendi, “People in Cuba know the film, and love the franchise.” Plus, “There’s a lot of family feeling, and that’s something that matters for us.”

So the reaction of a government official’s kids paled in comparison to when Vin Diesel arrived on set.

“People knew a movie was coming, and this was not a normal day in Havana with the streets closed, and trucks coming in from all over the place,” he said. “Then Vin pulls up, and gets out of his car, and the neighborhood explodes – even people watching from their windows, balconies, and rooftops went wild.”

“It was like Mick Jagger came to the edge of the stage, and started playing ‘Start Me Up’,” said Klein.

And while Klein and Larramendi are proud of the massive accomplishment of bringing a major Hollywood tentpole to Havana, it may be a one-time performance considering re-instated restrictions.

Even still, Cuba will remain the latest sibling city in the Fast and Furious family.

The Fate of the Furious is now available from Universal Home Entertainment on Digital HD, 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray, DVD and On Demand.

Taboo of the Horror Nerd

[Author’s Note: This exploration of the horror fandom for CNN was published in 2011, but it remains a point of pride. Although the fandom, and culture surrounding it, has shifted in the mainstream, this was a coup of a piece for the very sober, not-too-voicey CNN of the time.]

They are outsider fans in an outlaw genre. Even as comic book, science fiction and fantasy nerds are embraced by popular culture for their quirk and charm, the horror fan culture exists on the fringe, left out in the cold and dark – perhaps with a chainsaw-wielding maniac on the loose.

And that may be how horror nerds prefer it.

To be a horror nerd is to celebrate a low-rent, often underground kind of entertainment, even when it doesn’t involve Jason Voorhees, Samara or Pazuzu. It also means being the bad kid playing in the mud when others are allowed in the mainstream sandbox.

Basically, there is no “The Big Bang Theory” chronicling the lovable foibles of a dedicated nerd who can list his top five cannibal movies, and is steeped in a fandom of dismembered bodies and buckets of blood.

But if other groups have become eccentric darlings of the mainstream, horror nerds prefer their passion to be punk. Even with an implied desire for more widespread respect of the genre, there is concern about the mainstream attention that accompanies it.

“It should feel like two steps away from pornography,” said Joe Hill, the horror novelist of “Heart Shaped Box” and the comic “Locke & Key.” (He's also Stephen King's son.Yeah, THAT Joe Hill.)

“Let’s keep it grubby and dirty and shameful,” said Hill, who added he likes his horror to feel like a taboo “private pleasure,” and that part of its appeal is delighting in content that can unsettle.

Reigning scream queen and genre heroine Danielle Harris (“Hatchet II,” “Halloween,” “Stake Land”) believes horror stands alone in a “little world of its own” for that reason.

“It’s not quite in the mix,” said the actress. “That’s what makes it special.” Harris added part of the appeal of horror as a fan and creator is its ability to force a reaction out of audiences.

As a sociology professor who teaches about the horror genre at the University of Colorado – Boulder, Marshall Smith concurs.

“[Horror] is a genre that is meant to evoke a bodily response – shivers, goosebumps, etc.,” he said. “It celebrates what is supposed to be reviled.” As a result, Smith said, nerds “derive some sense of identity from reveling in that which others find objectionable.”

Exploring horror
Brad “Mr. Disgusting” Miska has built a career out of being an insider amongst the outsiders. The co-founder of BloodyDisgusting.com, launched in 2001, Miska’s site attracts approximately 1.5 million unique visitors to his horror entertainment site each month – and up to 2.5 million during October and January, the two most popular months for genre movies. Miska’s site serves casual horror fans but also the nerds who like to take ownership of, and share, new genre entries.

He said the culture of those nerds is to be “the discoverers of new, independent horror films – the lower budgets ones friends don’t know about.”

Miska said another important aspect to the horror culture is the tight-knit community where celebrities such as genre actor Kane Hodder or makeup effects master Tom Savini are accessible.

At horror cons such as Spooky Empire in Orlando, Florida, Miska said fans “can just walk up and talk to these guys and it makes them feel special.”

Petey Mongelli, the founder and promoter Spooky Empire, (which wrapped its ninth year Oct. 9) noted the appeal of the genre to a nerd like himself probably isn’t unlike other fan cultures – and that includes the tendency to obsessively collect and categorize details.

“They know every single scene in every movie and every movie each actor has done,” he said. “They have the original posters or the first copy of the VHS or Beta autographed by everybody, and need every single zombie from ‘Dawn of the Dead’ on their poster – even if they were in the movie for five seconds.”

Hard-gore fans versus loose screws
Mongelli also described the “real hardcore fan” as those who have actor or character likenesses tattooed on them, then “go get that autographed and get that tattooed.”

Speaking of those hardcore fans, Harris said a horror nerd is someone who loves the genre and has fun with it, and even wants to be a creator of it, but acknowledges there is an element within fan culture that has a “teeny, tiny, little screw loose” and gets excited to see someone murdered onscreen.

“The guy who can recite every ‘Halloween’ line and is so into it or has seen the movies 500 times – like the Adam Greens and the Rob Zombies of the world” are the nerds, she said. “Then you’ve got the guy who comes to a convention dressed as Michael Myers and stands in the corner with the mask on and breathes heavy and stares at me for an hour; there’s a difference.”

The “screw loose” element Harris refers to is the negative stereotype of the creeper fan that Miska says doesn’t really apply to most horror nerds.

“’Hostel’ set this precedent that horror fans wanted dark gore and torture,” he said. “But people don't want to watch that (expletive); people want to have fun when they watch movies – Even with a horror movie.”

Torture porn aside, Mongelli said fans still exist on the fringe even though horror is easily accessible on Netflix and dedicated TV networks such as Chiller.

It is an interesting point. Horror is readily available to audiences, but audiences don’t readily take to it. It has never really been uncommon for the general populace to respond to individual horror films when they become part of the pop-culture zeitgeist.

The masses have gleefully paid for their screams with commercial hits such as 1931’s “Dracula,” “The Exorcist,” “Halloween” and “Jaws.” Action figures of Freddy Krueger can be found on the shelves of a big box toy store, and most people have an awareness of who the character is, but the nerdy pursuit of the genre lacks the mainstream momentum seen behind fantasy, for instance. Even if the average “Entertainment Weekly” reader is aware of the plot of “The Human Centipede,” that knowledge doesn’t necessarily translate into viewership.

Although he said it depends on the subgenre of horror, Smith said he doesn’t see that changing. If part of the appeal of the genre is the “deviant or repulsive,” not too many fans from the mainstream will convert to horror nerd-dom no matter how easily you can purchase “Cannibal Holocaust” on Amazon.com.

“Casual fans are more interested in just an occasional scare particularly when a film is somehow registering on the cultural level as a phenomenon,” said Smith. He acknowledges the successes of anomalies such as the $193-million box office take of “Paranormal Activity,” but added, “I think of summer blockbusters; horror films will only ever make so much money in comparison to the action, comedy, etc.”

Commodity of horror
Besides, “Paranormal Activity” isn’t really for horror nerds anyhow.

Harris speaks to a consensus amongst horror fans that mainstream culture doesn’t “get” them, but that entertainment media is nonetheless trying to capitalize on the genre – often times through gimmicks, remakes, found footage flicks and 3-D – without always adding to the art or craft.

“It used to be that horror movies were always thought of as ‘B’ movies or Grade-Z movies, and now sometimes they’re tentpole releases,” Hill said before adding, “In some ways things were more exciting when they were more risky, when there was an outlaw vibe.”

“We’re being played to a wider audience than we used to; that’s positive, I think,” Hill said. But he added he has “mixed feelings” about mainstream acceptance.

But there might be another alternative for horror nerds that allow them to hold onto their outsider status while also embracing the mainstream, or at least other nerd cultures.

Horror events such as Mongelli’s have recently become part of an overall convention culture where everyone mingles together. He calls them “convention fans” and started noticing their appearance two or three years ago. Instead of fans dressed up as horror genre favorite Victor Crowley, or even as a generic monster, there were non-horror characters from “Star Wars,” “World of Warcraft” and so on.

“I was surprised they weren’t there earlier,” said Mongelli. “You see zombies at the comic book conventions, so why wouldn’t we have Iron Man or Spider-Man?”

Mongelli said this is a good development. He and Miska agreed that horror enthusiasts will stay loyal to their specific circle, but that the convergence of fans blends together like-minded people – nerdy about different things – into a more diverse social gathering.

What Harris called “a place where nerds can play,” regardless of the common obsession, and what Hill referred to as “genre play” and the “sandbox of the imagination,” conventions have become a site of a giant nerd herd merge where – to borrow from Adina Howard – everyone is a “freak like me.”

And in the end, those horror freaks can maintain their status as outsider fans in an outlaw genre – or at least as insider nerds with fringe benefits.