I've always thought of myself as an "overthinker." But as I've gotten older, I've started to realize that, you know, maybe a lot of people are just "underthinkers" and I'm a "thinker" and that's perfectly okay? I do live in my head a lot, and sometimes my physical self has suffered for it. Butt that's something I've been working on more lately. Changing the oil more often. Protecting the vehicle that drives my mind around, and I hope will do so for a few more decades yet, at least. Because I've got things I want to do. Chief amongst these, with the things I post and my books I try to bring a little of what's in my head out into the world, in a way that makes sense (I hope) to other people. My head runs on constant analysis—of myself, and everything around me. What can I do better? What is more efficient. Am I spending my time on things that matter to me?

I want to be moved. I want to laugh. I want to understand people around me better, and I want to show more of myself to them. At the same time, I know I can be intense. I dim that intensity back to make people at ease, because I like them to be at ease. If they aren't at ease, I'm not at ease. 

When you feel things deeply—from yourself and others—and it's combined with a mind that analyzes everything you say and do and tries to compute what you could have done better, there is a selfishness in wanting to make sure other people are okay. Because when they aren't, it's exhausting.

I used to think I was a deep introvert. One of those little boxes people like to put other people into, and some people like to put themselves into. But things like horoscopes, and Briggs-Meyer, or whatever—they are useful tools toward discovery. I think it's a mistake to think of them as the END of the journey. Instead, I like to take those little nuggets of insight and fashion them into something new. I think I have my mom to thank for that. A Christian Witch, essentially, she was always looking for a church that felt right. And never really did settle on one. Preferring to take the pieces and parts that felt right to her to make her own. I think that gave me permission, in a way, to do that for all parts of MY life. The truth is, I want connection. I want people in my life who can engage with me in a way that feels real, and not just small talk.

(A sidebar about small talk. To me, small talk is blather that has no real meaning to either party involved. It's not "how is your daughter doing?" or "how was your trip?" Those are just nice things and I generally find that interesting because I care about the person/people.)

It's not that I'm an introvert. I just want to connect with people in a way that a lot of people simply aren't comfortable with. And, frankly, I don't want to connect with everyone in that way. Just the ones who seem capable of handling it, and responding to it in kind. And there's nothing wrong or rude about that. Because, look, I was taught to respect other people unless they disrespected me. There is a strong slathering of Midwest Nice over all of this. But the honest, real kind. The strange part has always been realizing that not everyone deserves my time.

What I've slowly (so slowly) learned is to not be responsible for other people's feelings. To live with that discomfort. To realize that I'm the villain in someone else's story. That people will think this, that, or the other about me, and that's perfectly fine. Trying to shift and adjust for others is part of what is so exhausting about being in public or in larger crowds, and why I often thought of myself as an introvert. I think the reality is I'm an outgoing person looking for something real in a world that values the quick and disposable.

Realizing this has helped my writing immensely. The more I've written lately, with the new fantasy book I'm working on, and my work on Dharktyde Racers, has been freeing. Freeing in a way that makes me excited for the future of my writing. What comes next. Too many books I read feel like small talk. They come and go, perhaps amuse, and then fizzle away to nothing. I think there's room for that. But, too much of that, like too many sweets, leaves me with a headache and regret for indulging too much. I need a full, hearty meal. And that's harder to find. Which is why, when I write, I attempt to add those layers in, for those like myself who want to find them. What I'm saying may not be profound or particularly new. But they're in my head, and I feel the need to get them out, even if it's cloaked in (I hope) art and integrated into the flow of a book.

All of this, to say, I have seen and felt a change in myself, and it's one I'm going to keep encouraging. It feels like a magic trick/balancing act. Being more truthful. Being more fully yourself. Reflecting that in the writing. And accepting that some people won't like it.

I want to be kinder. I want to be more understanding. But I also want to value my time, and realize that some things/people are hindrances to who I want to be. I want to dive deeper into myself, and investigate the world through the only lens I have—my own. I want to be weirder. I want to be truer.

I'm a big guy. 6'5'' with wide shoulders. Even before the depression hit in my 20s and I gained a lot of weight, I've always taken up a lot of space, and tried hard to shrink down to make other people feel at ease. Smile at people I pass. Move out of the way for others. Hold open doors.

This is often mistaken for passivity or weakness. Lately, I've been standing up straighter. Letting my shoulders out even as my belly shrinks a bit. Letting go of the constant tension in my back where I squeeze myself into what the world wants me to be. I've been allowing myself to take up space. But I'll still hold the door open for you. I'll duck some in my theater seat if you're behind me. I never mind retrieving something high up for you. And, if you need it, I love giving and getting hugs. But, I also have a lot less time for your bullshit. So, approach me honestly.

My name is Jon Wesley Huff. I was born to a witch and a dreamer. I've got a head full of ideas and thoughts that run non-stop. I think before I speak. I want to be heard. I believe in kindness. And hope. I like silly jokes, animals, and making fun of bad books and movies. Hello. Nice to meet you.

Bremen, Indiana 1987

I had five channels growing up. In our tiny income-dependent apartment, called the Huff Homestead by my sister's friends, who often gathered there, we never had cable. We didn't even get Fox. The channels were NBC, CBS, ABC, the religious channel, and PBS.

I'd just gotten into Star Trek: The Next Generation, starting a few episodes into the first season. TNG aired at 10:30pm that first season, but my mom gave me permission to stay up to watch it after seeing a television commercial because she'd been a fan of Star Trek growing up. I don't remember what my bedtime was at eight years old, but this was far later than I usually stayed up.

It turns out, when you stay up late one night, it's hard to go to sleep the next night early again. Which is why I was flipping through channels—all five of them—at 10:15pm or so. I stumbled onto a show on PBS with these funny, silly people at a department store sat around a conference room trying to pick a vacation. The show was Are You Being Served?, and yes, I would become a lifelong fan of that show at eight too! But that wasn't the main even this day.

That came when I left the channel on, wondering what other funny shows might come on next. The next show up was not a funny one. This one had mummies. And a sarcophagus that had a portal to somewhere else. A grinning man with wild eyes in a long scarf, and a smart, funny young woman who reminded me of my mom and my sisters. The show was Doctor Who, and the episode was Pyramid of Mars. I was instantly obsessed. I was already a fan of Egyptian mythology and history (all mythology, in fact) and had read a few books on Egypt, mummies, at the local library where much of my childhood was spent.

But add in robots, time travel, and two central characters who, in my eight year old brain, felt like friends I was traveling with more than simply two actors on a screen playing a part, and a lifelong fandom was born.

When I started watching PBS, Sylvester McCoy was the current Doctor. But PBS (at leat my local station, shout out to WILL) played the 4th Doctor stories in a loop. Which is why I was in utter shock when I saw the end of the 4th Doctor in Logopolis. Talk about mythology! I didn't know a Time Lord could regenerate. It was a complete shock to see the strange, papery figure of The Watcher follow the Doctor before merging with him to become his fifth self. Who was this smilling blonde man?!! It was even odder to watch the next week and see the Third Doctor transform into my Doctor again! I eventually found a book at a book store in South Bend (Doctor Who books were VERY hard to find back then) called Gallifrey. I stil have it. And it helped me understand how this worked, exactly. Eventually, PBS started playing the other Doctors.

I didn't realize that Doctor Who was episodic. PBS stripped them into "movies" or "omnibus" editions, which meant that the run time could vary WILDLY over the course of Doctor Who. I'll never forget the morning I woke up, so mad at myself for falling asleep during War Machines. Not realizing it was four hours long!

The history of Doctor Who stretches far and wide these days. I can honestly say there's not one Doctor I don't like. Between the past stories I've seen, the books, and the Big Finish stories, even the Doctors who were underserved in the story department have been given new life and have really had a chance to let their talents shine.

But, even when other Doctors get really close to my favorite, it's difficult to put them above Tom Baker. Part of this is purely nostalgia. He was my first Doctor, and he (and Sarah) left such an indelible pression on my brain. He is also just a talented actor, intriguing personality, and will probably always be the longest-serving doctor in terms of aired TV episodes. He had time to have different eras, and was served some of the best classic Doctor Who episodes.

It was with the Doctor I first really got into horror, and gothic horror. The Doctor has evolved as a character over the years, becoming more human and emotional as time has gone on. I understand the shift, but I kind of still prefer the Doctor as embodied by Tom Baker. His Doctor felt like he had a truly unknowable mind, far beyond the concerns we humans might have. A mad, mischievous force for good who rejected the establishment, questioned his own judgment, did not give speeches lightly—a true wanderer in a mad box tumbling through space and time.

Happy birthday, Tom!

And thank you.

Hello all,

It's been a moment. I've been hard at work, though. I'll get into all of that in a deeper writing update soon, if you haven't seen my videos on socials about it. For today, however, I want to take a moment to mark a pretty momentous occasion. The end of Stranger Things.

A Little Backstory

I was all-in as soon as I started watching the series. Its weird to think about how long ago, culturally, it was when the show started nine years ago. I really got into Dungeons & Dragons with 5e when that came out in 2014. I always wanted to play as a kid, and I had friends who did, but my mom was caught up in the satanic panic some in the 80s (thanks in part to a religious aunt who nearly got my He-man toys taken away too but my mom stuck her ground there) so I wasn't allowed to play it. But, as an adult, I dove into 5E, first DMing for friends and then playing in a friend's campaign of Strahd (which took YEARS). All in all, I played D&D pretty consistently from 2014 until a couple years ago. All of that to say, I was really primed for Stranger Things when it came in 2016, with D&D being such a heavy theme.

A Different World

A lot has changed since then. D&D has become incredibly popular, thanks to many different factors. Baldur's Gate 3, streamers like Critical Role, Dimension 20, etc. And, of course, Stranger Things. D&D has also had it's share of hard hits, with parent company Hasbro seeming intent on driving fans away with their corporate nonsense at times. There was also an excellent movie (Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves) that no one went to go see, and there have been about 3-4 failed action figure lines too. Which, frankly, has been a bummer. I loved NECA's Advanced D&D line they started. I was sad to see that end. It's hard to tell if Super7's efforts will continue, but their ReAction line was a lot of fun.

For me, personally, the bloom is off the rose a bit, when it comes to D&D. I bought the new core rulebooks, but haven't read through them or had a chance to play with that ruleset. Partly, I've just been really busy writing. I've written so much the last couple years. Some of which you'll finally start to see next year! So a lot of my creative energy and time goes there. Also, some of the corporate shenaningans, the challenge of finding the right mix of players, and other things have just prevented it.

Similarly, when it was time for Stranger Things to finally come back, my excitement factor was a little low. For one thing, I'm starting to feel this wave of anti-nostalgia brew within me. Which is weird, because as a toy collector, I'm honestly driven by nostalgia for some of that. It's just, more and more, I have started to see some of the downsides of nostalgia. The way it can be weaponized, for instance. The way it can be used as a balm to help one ignore problems. It has it's place, but I'm warier of it than I was when Stranger Things first started.

And, then there's the wait between seasons of two or more years. I hated it with Doctor Who, and I don't love it with shows like Wednesday, either. I know these are big shows and I'd rather they do them the right way. But the side effect can be that I really lose the thread of the plots and stories. With a show like Doctor Who it's less worrying because while there are overarching stories for a season, it's mostly focused on indivdiual adventures. But when it's one long story, essentially, the emotional impact some moments would have is lessened by the gaps. That being said, the character work of the previous seasons was strong enough that, once I got over my initial shock factor of the kids seeming SO much older, I got back into the groove of the show. I slipped back into the world fairly easy, and I was happy to spend more time with them.

The Stranger Things Finale

Recently, I've been itching to play D&D again. I watched The Mighty Nein and really enjoyed that. I am thinking of starting up a Lord of the Rings 5E campaign from Free League soon. I've been buying the books for a while, but I just bought myself the starter set recently. I do miss the idea of telling stories with friends. So, in some ways I was primed to return to Hawkins, Indiana for the finale. Here are some (spoiler-filled) thoughts on it.

I think the more you answer about things, the less interesting they are. Part of me would liked to have never known what the Upside Down was. But, of course, what might work for a one-season series won't for five! So they had to get into it. And it's a fun concept, at least, with the wormhole connecting two planets and the fun with that.

I thought having Vecna's "hand" lair actually BE the mind flayer was a fun twist. They played up the heart above Vecna a lot, so I feel like I should hae been more pepared for that to happen. I will say, the one thing that didn't quite work for me there was the set. Even after the battle, the set looked like it was on the ground, jutting out from sand. Not as some mobile thing. Very minor, just something I really noticed after the battle.

But I loved the big battle! One might have thought Nancy would let the others get into position before drawing the beasts attention. lol. But time was of the essence, I guess. Seeing all the kids in gear on an alien world was fun. I hope Natalia Dyer gets to do more fun things. She's so great as Nancy. I honestly would watch a spin-off show of her as a journalist investigating the paranormal in the 90s!

A few nitpicks / things that made me wonder. I would have maybe like ONE line on why and how Dr. K just packed up without throwing everyone in jail an torturing them for answers. Yes, she saw Eleven die. But she also saw all her work destroyed. I just don't get how there were no consequences there? Why the army would allow all these people with knowledge of all of this just walk around knowing it.

I would have liked more Steve/Robin. I know Steve pairs well with so many people, but it's easy to forget they were the ones who forged the friendship first. Then again, I did like that Robin became Will's mentor in coming out. Also, a callback to Dustin's girlfriend Suzie would have been nice, but it seemed like they broke up. Maybe while he was being surly after losing Eddie. Speaking of which, good for him for keeping up his grades through that!

There is a moment where the kids are running from Vecna, and his evil animal noises sound out, but then it's just Elle and her sister! It made me laugh so much. It's such a cheap fake-out with the sound effects! It didn't really annoy me. It just made me laugh because it's so silly and not explained in any way why Elle and her sister are making monster noises. Because, of course, they aren't, but it still made me laugh.

I did think it was a bit odd we didn't get a check-in with Robin's girlfriend, who mostly just seemed there to have someone watch over Max's wheelchair-bound body while her mind was away.

Finally, I would have liked Eleven's end more if we hadn't been in this exact place before? I guess you could say it's a theme of the series. Trying to keep her alive and failing. That being said, the ultimate resolution was satisfying. I did like that they didn't have her just reappear at the D&D session or something cheesy like that. Her sacrifice still had consequences for her and the others.

Sidebar: That D&D Session

Speaking of that D&D session. As someone who has played the Curse of Strahd through to the end(!) I will say, if I'd had this long campaign, and the only way I beat the bad guy was to have a deus ex machina magic person suddenly appear to do it, I would NOT be a happy player. But then, that is kind of the way the show worked. lol. They struggled and struggled until Eleven could magic them out of it, whatever obstacle preventing her from doing so previously finally removed. I kind of liked that the D&D session acknowledged that, in a small way, even though I'd be pissed off if I was a player!

The Return of The Return of the King

Back to the finale, The last forty minutes are very much "Return of the King" in the nature in that it wraps up everyone's story and takes its time doing it. For everyone who hates too much wrap-up, there are people who luxuriate in the slow wrap-up. For me, I love a long RotK wrap-up. I want to get a resolution to these characters that feels emotionally satisfying. Here's where, as a viewer, I will compliment them for wrapping up everything in a nice way. Sure, there were some gaps I'd loved to have known more about, but I liked the send-off of the "older" kids. Getting to see Dustin's mom again was fun. That being said, it was pretty light on any narrative surprises. Everything just kind of ended up the way you'd expect. So, as a writer, I would have liked a few more left turns in everyone's fates. Lucas, in particular, it'd have been nice to know more about than "he ends up with Max" partly because his story has been largely dominated by his relationship with Max and not much else. He didn't even really get some quality time in with his sister!

Notebooks Away

All of that being said, we get back to D&D for the finale. Do I like Elle is still alive for real? Yes. While it's put out there as a possibility, in show terms we're shown things that Mike couldn't have known, including Elle's conversation with Kali. So while it's a mystery whether she survived to Mike and everyone else, I think as viewers it's pretty rock solid that this is what happened. I'm glad Eleven didn't have to die for real (again.)

The ending with them putting away their notebooks was fantastic. It was an end to an era, for sure. Not just their childhoods, and their easy ability to get together and play. A time before Zoom, Roll20, and DNDBeyond let players far away play with each other. As Mike looks down at Holly and her new friends just starting up an adventure, manhandling his stuff and his figurines, you can see a mixture of emotions play across his face, before he settles on being happy.

A Place for Nostalgia

In some ways, you could see the end of Stranger Things as the kids "putting away childish things" or, perhaps, leaving them for the next generation to enjoy and nurture their imagination and bravery with. To me, that's the joy of getting to play D&D when you're a kid. And one I wished I'd experienced. Getting to explore who you are at a young age, and to try on new roles, is such a gift. I found that, eventually, when I started acting in plays in high school. It's so important to be able to explore different ways of being. To try to put yourself in a stranger's shoes, even if they're the boots of a nine-foot dragon person.

I also think it's important that Mike and the others just put their notebooks away, rather than ritually burning them or somesuch. Will they ever get them down again? Will they play every couple years? Or will the notebooks sit there, covered in dust? We likely won't know. But the possibility is still there.

In the end, I liked that Stranger Things celebrated the nerdy weirdos. But, most importantly, KIND nerdy weirdos. Because there are unkind ones, too. The ones that make you avoid certain Reddit threads, or the comment sections of pretty much anything. Whenever I find myself in a toxic swamp of nerdy pedantry and gatekeeping, it feels to me that these people have held on too tightly to their fandom. Their love has congealed into something dark.

To me, the ending isn't about putting the childish things away. Rather, it's about leaving space for others to enjoy them while you go onto new adventures. The scope of what "adulthood" consists of has changed in wonderful ways in my lifetime. You can love toys, action figures, video games—whatever you like—as an adult without the side eye or snickering that you might once have suffered. I think the secret is to not grip onto those things too tightly.

"The world is not in your books and maps; it’s out there," Gandalf says in the first The Hobbit movie. The line isn't from the books. But I always found it an interesting one. Like Hawkins in Stranger Things, The Shire is a place that never existed, and yet we can have a real nostalgia for. For some, that nostalgia might be in a land just beyond the wardrobe, a wizarding school, in a van with mystery-solving teenagers, in a sewer with some mutated turtles, or a hundred thousand other places. Tolkien built The Shire as a place that felt cozy and homey but, most importantly, it was a place that had to be left in order to really experience life. Life which could be scary and dangerous, but filled with new friends, new places to see, and new ways to think.

I think there's great wisdom there. Cozy places are wonderful to have and to return to. Whether that cozy place is some imagined land or childhood itself. The D&D notebook is still on the shelf. But if those lands start to feel like traps, or your love turns to gripes, or those stories no longer bring you joy, it's good to remember there's a whole world of interesting things to experience and explore.

Have you ever danced with Disney in the pale moon light?

Doctor Who has. And, after two years, the dance is officially over per the BBC. We still have one more Disney/BBC co-production, the spin-off The War Between the Land and Sea. Although, to be honest, I feel like that production has gotten little to no traction in fandom. I'm just seeing very little excitement about it. But it looks like a solid story (not sure about the title) and I'm always up for more UNIT.

That being said, by the time it comes out in 2026, it might feel like a weird little side alley in the history of Doctor Who. When it was first announced, it sounded like Disney and the BBC were excited about many years working together, expanding the "Whoniverse" beyond the main show. Now, the show is back on the BBC, which is still having funding woes, after a relaunch that fell pretty flat with viewers, fans, and critics alike.

I'm sure there's already been a lot written about why it didn't work. That's not why I'm writing this. Whatever you thought of the two seasons we got as part of the Disney deal, we can see by the end result that it did not work. That leaves the question...

Where Does Doctor Who Go From Here?

As a fan since I was eight, I've seen a lot of Doctor Who. I've seen exceptional Doctor Who, mediocre Doctor Who, and (yes) downright bad Doctor Who. That doesn't make me an expert in what makes good Doctor Who. But, with that perspective I honestly think we've had a rough decade of Doctor Who. Certainly the show's popularity has been on a slide since the Tennant and Smith years. But that's almost a given with any long-lived series, and I don't think the ideas and efforts behind any of it were particularly wrong-headed. They just haven't quite worked as well, and the expectations for what Doctor Who could be rose signifcantly after the 2005 revival.

What Changes Would I Like to See?

Here's my prescription for change for the good Doctor. I've tried hard not to just be swayed by what I've liked best about Doctor Who, but rather really think about how Doctor Who can work in the 2020s.

More Episodes

I think a season of modern Doctor Who needs more than 8 episodes a season + a Christmas Special. Doctor Who production has been a punishing beast ever since it returned in 2005. And certainly it's not got cheaper to produce. But whereas RTD was able to riff on the concept of episodic storytelling with an overarching storyline so well during the show's revival, that was one of the areas that particularly suffered for me in the most recent seasons. While Christopher Eccelston famously only had one season of Doctor Who, Ncuti didn't have that many more episodes, and he had two seasons.

Imagine trying to take the Doctor and Rose's relationship in the first season and compress it by five episodes. That's what the show put on the Doctor and Ruby, and it simply fell flat by the end. I loved those two together, but by the end it felt like there just hadn't been enough time for the characters to become what they were supposed to be to each other (and us) by the end of the season. This only got worse in the second season, where the truly excellent team of the Doctor and Belinda were poorly served by the end of the season. Now, with that you can put some of the blame on reshoots necessary for Ncuti's decision to leave (following Disney dragging their feet) but even then, it feels poorly conceived trying to take the big bad arc that shows like Buffy had (in 22 episode seasons!) AND have your fluffy "for the kids" adventure AND a Doctor-lite episode. So, they either need to use a different formula when planning out the season or be less ambitious in the scope.

Smaller Stories

Part of the problem with Doctor Who relying on epic storylines for so much of it's post 2005 revival is that the stakes keep having to get higher and higher. Forget the Earth being in danger. All of reality and time are regularly in danger and it's just not sustainable. Putting aside the cost, each time reality/time/universe is saved, the returns feel more and more diminished. In theory, with a show like Doctor Who you want to keep bringing in fresh audiences. That's what RTD and team tried to do with Disney. But, again, with eight episodes it'd probably be wiser to build up to that big mega-plot over 2-3 years and not just one season.

Plus, some of the gems we've gotten over the years are actually quite small. Revolving around the fate of a small group of people. Or one. The Girl in the Fireplace, Blink, Midnight, and Vincent & The Doctor just to name a few.

Have the Doctor Shut Up Some

I think, in general, the manic verbal diarrhea mode of the Doctor has been done and done to DEATH. It's always a bit depressing when a new Doctor comes on and they're given the same bouncy, elaborate speech patterns that have defined the character since Tennant. The lone exception to that was Capaldi, a real attempt to break away from that some. Although he also indulged in the other vice the Doctors since Tennant have been known for—speechifying.

I am honestly so sick of hearing the Doctor tell us how great he is. I'm also not really that into him telling us how great we (humans) are and I especially don't want the Doctor fishing for some love from everyone around him like some desperate TikTokker at 3am in a doom spiral.

Enough Easy Plot Resolutions

It started with RTD, but it's only gotten worse as the show has gone on. RTD said in his (excellent and fascinating) book on writing and making Doctor Who that he isn't afraid to take short cuts when he wants to keep the plot moving. The sonic is always a problem, magically doing whatever the plot needs it to, unless something is suddenly "deadlocked" because the plot demands the sonic not be effective. It's not particularly interesting to have one made up thing stop another made up thing from doing everything when there's no real sense of the "rules." That being said, I'm honestly usually fine with these moments, especially if we get a satisfying resolution. But when that sort of hand-waving happens to resolve the whole plot. Well, now there are problems.

The Doctor is supposed to be brilliant. I know it's hard to write brilliant characters. It's one reason we didn't have more episodes of Sherlock at a go. But both the defeats of Sutekh and Omega felt incredibly rushed after a lot of build up. And those are just two of the bigger more recent examples. If all it takes is for the Doctor to make a speech and zip around a bit, you start to wonder why it took him so long to do that.

That's Not All, Of Course...

Obviously, that's not all I'd like to see. A fantastic writer/showrunner with a fresh and distinct POV in necessary. I'm a bit disconnected from the show these days when it comes to the behind the scenes stuff. Especially compared to when it first relaunched. So, I'm not sure if there are any bright lights in the current crop of writers who might qualify. To be honest, most of my favorite episodes from the last two series just had RTD's name on them. So there's no clear heir apparent, and while someone of the stature of J. Michael Straczynski taking over sounds amazing, I still wonder if the BBC would name a not UK citizen as showrunner. Plus, I still hope he'd be able to get that Babylon 5 reboot off the ground.

What about you? What would like to see? I'd love to hear more Doctor Who fans thoughts on this!

I was going through some old CDs and DVDs I burned. Some of them date back to the early 2000s. On one disc, I found files for something I'd COMPLETELY forgotten about. In 2001, I started some sort of comic book project around Star Trek: Enterprise. These would have been all hand-drawn and inked. Scanned and colored in the computer in Photoshop. It's funny to look back at these. The likenesses aren't too shabby, if I do say so myself. Some stiff figure work and wonky anatomy. But, still fun to look back at. I have zero idea what the story would have been about, but I imagine it would have had to do with the Time War stuff brought up in the series.

Archer vs an original alien design of some kind I did. Note: Sorry for the watermarks. They're dumb, I know. I added them back in the day for... whatever this was going to be. There are HTML files, too, but without much context. Maybe it was going to be a fan comic?

T'Pol doesn't have a great likeness. A lot of women ended up looking like my mom by accident when I drew them back then. lol. 

I thought I’d tell this story in a different way. Here are some childhood photos. In the days before digital, there just weren’t as many photos taken, so these are some of the few I still have. There are so many things that haunt. The past, the present. 

When I wrote In the Dark of the Grove in 2019, it was a pretty dark time that set my head spinning. Grappling with feelings of betrayal from people I loved, a country I barely recognized. I looked to the past and the present trying to understand. I decided to write my first horror novel after mostly focusing sci-fi before that.

The book was picked up by a publisher. In 2021, the book came out. Things were looking up. I’d hoped maybe that darkness was left there. Yet, here we are four short years later. That publisher folded, and in some ways it feels like we’re back in a darker version of the place I was when I wrote my first horror novel. 

Re-releasing In the Dark of the Grove made sense to me. I’d been wanting to design a new cover to replace the last, rushed one. I wanted something designed that didn’t feel AI fake. It’s all me. As an indie publisher, I realized I had the advantage of doing things exactly as I’d want them. So why not with this? What feel beholden to… anything.

First and foremost my hope is this is just a good creepy thriller horror. A slow burn with an ending that ramps it up. Beyond that, it’s another shout into the void from a gay man that has to use an emoji sometimes instead of a word because his existence and that of those like him is still being litigated by the “society” he’s a contributing member of.

There’s less fear as I release this book again into the world. And a lot more anger. But channeled anger. If you haven’t picked it up, it’s available most places you can buy a book as of today, four years after its original publication with a new cover and slightly redesigned interior for readability.

I have no idea if the book will make more of an impact this time. At this point, I’m kind of beyond being worried about that. Because this is a thing I made, and it’s as perfect as I can make it now.

So grateful to all who tried it before, and all who will continue too.

Where to Buy: https://jonwesleyhuff.com/pages/fiction

If I time this right, this post should go live at midnight, which I hope feels appropriate. As I write this, on the 26th day of the ninth month of the two thousand and twenty-fifth year on our calendar, it's the 50th Anniversary of the release of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

It's a movie I almost hated the first time I saw it.

By the time I first saw the movie (Picture it, Fort Wayne, Indiana, 1998) the movie was thoroughly entrenched as a midnight movie. One of my favorite podcasts, Midnight Mass, recently lamented the death of the midnight movie. It's something that I really hadn't noticed, other than the lack of midnight movies at my local theaters. I figured that was because I was in a smaller city, and that the tradition was still alive in bigger cities. But it seems it's hard to get people to show up for that sort of thing any more.

I'm always a little suspicous of nostalgia, which is a little ridiculous considering how much I indulge in it in some ways, but I will say, I really do feel like people—especially young people—are missing out. One of the joys of seeing a movie in the theater is the experience of it with an audience. There's something really special when you get an audience that's connected and enjoying it together. I realize that's increasingly rare, as people are doing everything from texting, talking, videoing, taking pictures... but when you get the right audience, it's magic. At Midnight? It's even more magical, somehow.

That night at Rocky? It was magical. But, as I said, I almost hated the movie. It was a showing with a prop bag. Which meant, as someone who didn't love being thrust into situations where he did not know how to do something AND as someone who didn't particularly love excess noise, it got scary quick. I had no idea what to do when or where. I was kind of behind the curve the entire time, in fact. Do I throw the hot dog? What about the rice? Do we still have to worry about birds and rice? And what is this water pistol for?

Illustrations by Phil Dejean from RockyHorror.com

And the noise? The first time I watched Rocky, I thought it sounded kind of ugly. Now, who knows how aged the film print we watched was. But even now, as I watch it nearly every year, I have to admit that the sound can be abrupt at times. When I'm showing it to people for the first time, I wonder if it'll sort of jangle in their ears. Will they not be able to make out the lyrics? Will they follow the plot? (Dr. Scott!) And does that even matter?

What I hope for them, but cannot replicate precisely at home, is that it'll work on them the way it worked on me. How the spirit of all those people, loving this thing that was over twenty four years old (at the time) and that was undeniably, gloriously queer—well, it opened my eyes. A little light was turned on. And it still hasn't gone out.

Each time I watch Rocky, and I watch it more often as I get older, I've noticed, I truly find some new detail or touch to admire. I've watched it just to pay attention to the costuming. I've watched it just to pay attention to the background characters. I understand the sly winks and the clever nods so much better now than I did as a nineteen year old. Now, I mist up as Frankenfurter sings "I'm Going Home" every. damn. time.

'Cause I've seen, oh, blue skies
Through the tears in my eyes
And I realise
I'm going home

It's this closer that's just so perfect for the movie. It's dramatic. It's overblown. It's camp as fuck. And it's so, so beautiful. There's this core of truth, in amongst the glitz and dancing and posturing. Much like Frankenfurter himself, there's a beating heart there that is both fascinating and strangely relatable. I think that's what's kept audiences captivated for 50 years. You can see it once, have a good time, and be done with it forever. But for those of us who speak some form of dialect of weirdo, outsider, queer—it imprints on us for life.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Long live queer art. Long live the weirdos. Long live Rocky Horror.