One of the things I’m proudest about in my years and years of blogging, the thing by which I will define my human worth, was my ability to show up on the first page of Google for the query ‘Space Werewolves.’ The culprit behind that happy accident is this paragraph in a post from 2008 full of half-serious novel pitches (okay, completely not serious pitches):
It’s the 15th Century, and werewolves live on the moon, so that they can be in their dazzling wolf-man hybrid forms at all times. These space werewolves fight an ages-old feud with space vampires who have some communicable form of space-AIDS and subsist on the dreams of others instead of blood. It’s difficult for them because nobody dreams in space. Anyway, a space werewolf from the moon and a space vampire fall in love and try to find a place that will accept them and it will be a seven-book saga full of smutty lycanthropic coupling.
While I had myriad reasons for moving to the new domain (one of which I will not share, the other being the increasing disconnect between the current tone and direction of my posts and the comics/horror movie content that I simply haven’t done a whole lot of lately – especially when I have another blog that I can use to get ranty about the X-Men), one thing that really makes me regret it sometimes is that I don’t get any traffic coming into the site via “space werewolves.” And that idea? I think it’s so bad it’s good. So terrible it’s amazing, in fact. There’s the barest sliver of me that actually wants to write this. My other slivers are staring at that one perplexedly. Is perplexedly a word?
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