Slasher season 2

I never even reviewed the first season, did I, from when this was a Chiller show? It was fun. It was kind of a ‘grown-up’ slasher. Well, it wasn’t teens-at-camp, anyway. The victim pool’s problems weren’t “what about curfew?” or “where’s the party,” but real, mortgage-paying actual-life kind of problems. There was a wicked knife, a wicked mask, some solid gore (well, runny, chunky gore), and an opening scene on Halloween night that’s to die for, or, you know: from. And Slasher wisely brought across one of the actors from Harper’s Island, so that we can feel confident that these creators know what-all’s come before (HI being, in my unhumble estimation, as good as the slasher’s got so far, on the small screen). If you’ve forgot the particulars of that first season, you can remember most of them just by watching the old trailer (the seven sins, have to go to the prison to talk to yesterday’s slasher, a house-with-a-history, an art gallery . . .).

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New York Times & Mapping the Interior (& me)

What am I doing in these hallowed pages, right? I mean, by my reckoning, it’s been about forever since I’ve been in the NYT. Thinking . . . 2003, maybe? All the Beautiful Sinners. And that may have just been an ad that Rugged Land bought—I’ve got it stashed away somewhere—so it doesn’t really even count.

Anyway, nice to be in Terrence Rafferty’s “Roundup of New Horror,” all kind of branching off Richard Matheson’s stuff. Will read through it again, but I think I know nearly everybody in that roundup, except King and Bulkin.

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