“You see. No shock. No engulfment. No tearing asunder. What you feared would come like an explosion is like a whisper. What you thought was the end is the beginning.”

A few days ago on Twitter, J.C. Hutchins asked people for their favorite Twilight Zone episode. Along with the list of usual suspects people mentioned (To Serve Man, Living Doll, Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, and so on…) I threw my own personal favorite into the ring: George Clayton Johnson’s Nothing in the Dark. And, like anything, picking your favorite Twilight Zone is an ad hoc exercise in psychological analysis.

But the truth is that the Twilight Zone is one of those rare things, where it’s virtually impossible to pick one single episode as your favorite… impossible to single out the one that’s the best. The show contributed far too many classics to the canon. There are a few odd clunkers in there, to be sure (and the less said about the ill-conceived, ill-fated feature film from the 80′s, the better). But the show — and it’s creator and host, Rod Serling — occupy a well-deserved place in Television history.

When I was a kid, the Twilight Zone was on TV every single day. It came on at noon and then again at midnight, two episodes back to back. And holidays typically saw at least one local station running a 24 hour marathon (regrettably, this last tradition seems to be waning as cable takes over for the local stations).

I probably started watching the show with my older brother Scott. But we were all fans on one level or another. It wasn’t uncommon for someone in our house to hum the tell-tale theme (“Do do doo doo, do do doo doo…”) to indicate when something strange was going on. As a matter of fact, my mother did this on Facebook a few days ago.

I don’t remember what the first episode I watched was, but I was hooked from the very beginning. When I was out of school during the summer, it was part of my daily ritual to watch the show while I ate lunch. Later that night, already a confirmed night owl, I would stay up and watch the midnight round of shows as well. This went on well into high school and beyond. If they were still on, I would do it now.

I didn’t know it at the time — in fact, I wouldn’t realize it for at least a decade into my own writing career — but the Twilight Zone served as my first lessons in storytelling. I don’t think there’s a story I’ve written that doesn’t owe some debt to the show, either in pacing, theme, or character. And I know I’m not the only writer who would say this (and say it proudly).

As the current “Twilight” offers opportunities for a new generation to identify with the strange, the outcast and the darkness… so too did Rod Serling open up a doorway to another world, welcoming permanent residence to this skinny, slightly off-kilter kid.

And, without looking back, I gladly stepped through.

That was over twenty-five years ago, but I still am proud to consider myself a citizen . . . of the Twilight Zone.

———

While I was writing this post, I was disappointed to find that episodes are not available for instant viewing through Netflix. Someone really needs to get that fixed as soon as possible.

However, my faith was restored when I discovered that Wikipedia entries for individual episodes include a transcription of both the opening and closing narration by Mr. Serling. This amazes and delights me.

Once again, I find that I am not alone.

That, my friends, is a whole lot of writing. And he did it all on his own.

Although he’s rounding the corner into his nineties, he still writes every single day — poetry and articles, as well as the odd advertising blurb or copywriting gig. And he’s been keeping a daily journal for what’s probably sixty years or more.

Ken’s quick-witted and spry and doesn’t mind regaling a much younger and infinitely less-experienced writer with stories from his life and career.

So, he’s a god and I’m lucky to know him.

Whenever I see him, Ken never fails to ask about my work — both at my day job with the agency as well as my extracurricular creative efforts. He’s incredibly generous with his attention and encouragement, and he’s genuinely interested in what the current scene looks like.

As an old radio guy, he’ll sometimes ask me if I remember the classics — Inner Sanctum, The Shadow, and so on. Seeing as how I’m a bit of a powerdork and grew up with very cool parents, I can actually hold my own in some of those conversations. And, as someone who has spent a fair amount of time sitting in front of a microphone recording my novels, I’ve got a lot of appreciation and enthusiasm for the uniquely audible world of radio.

Of course, these days a lot of that world has been transplanted into podcasting. As one of the best-natured curmudgeons I’ve ever know, Ken’s got a healthy interest in new technology but he also isn’t above calling it bunk from time to time. One of the things I’ve been looking forward to is opening him up to the world of podcasts (via his new Mac and iTunes), because I think there’s some really terrific stuff available there — all the past “nostalgia” shows that are available, as well as what’s going on right now.

I remember a number of years ago, when I heard of podcasts for the first time. I have to say, I didn’t quite get it. This was long before the iPod and it seemed like a real fringe movement. At work, there was the programming intern who listened to MIDI files of classic video game music scores. There was the other intern who listened to podcasts. I didn’t get it. At all.

Eventually, I found my way into podcasts — both as a podcaster as well as a listener. (But I still haven’t figured out the appeal of the MIDI file thing yet. At all.)

One of the things I hear a lot from people is “I don’t have the time…” or “I don’t know where people find the time…” to do something new — whether it’s listening to podcasts, or getting involved in a social networking site, or even just sitting down and reading a book (“Do people even do that anymore?”). Like anything else, you end up making the time for things that you enjoy. All you have to do is get over that little edge at the outset, the one that seems like it’s more trouble than it’s worth to start.

The tipping point for me was in the convergence of the iPod, iTunes, and NPR taking the fairly bold step of putting out a lot of their content for free as podcasts. It was being able to get This American Life and The Writer’s Almanac right there in my hands, whenever I wanted it. That did it for me.

My own listening habits have grown over the past few years and they’re fairly varied. The number of podcasts in my playlist tends to fluctuate between ten and thirty different shows (in fact, I just added a dozen or so new ones today). With all of that rotation, there’s really only a handful of ‘casts that I listen to on a fairly consistent, faithful basis.


RadioLab
This is at the top of the list, hands down. It’s a hard show to describe to people, but it’s somewhat accurate to say it’s a superb melding of the sensibilities of This American Life with content from that Science class you never went to in college. Outstanding stuff. The hosts/producers Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich have a lot of fun with the material and it’s hard not to get caught up in it all. I’ve been listening to this one for over a year and every time there’s a new episode, my little geeky heart just leaps for joy. And, unlike other shows, this one has a considerable shelf life; the reruns are just as good the second and third time around.

Favorite Episode: There are so many good episodes available through the WNYC website and iTunes, but a good place to start would be with either their episodes on the War of the Worlds, Space Capsules, or Emergence — but, really, they’re all great fun.

RadioLab website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me
This show drives me to work every Monday morning. The classic panel show format is a lot of fun and host Peter Sagal has a quick, clever mind. His rotating panel of guests always seems to be having way too much fun taking apart the newsmakers of the week. My personal favorite is Paul Provenza but they’re all lots of fun chasing after jokes together.

Favorite Episode: When Kevin Clash and his slightly better known alter-ego Elmo came on the show. Wickedly funny stuff.

WWDTM website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

Welcome to Mars
This is the only terminal podcast in the list. For twelve episodes back in 2006, writer Ken Hollings unpacked the period of time running from 1947 through 1959. It’s a fascinating tour of the emergence of UFO culture, conspiracy theory, B-movies, and the psychedelic generation. Great, great stuff and lots of fun listening to Hollings make subtle little connections underlying seemingly unrelated facets of what he calls the “American Half-Century”.

( Full disclosure: I have to admit that I found the Theremin-infused sci-fi score a little wonky and intrusive, especially in the earlier episodes. But it calms down for the rest of the series.)

Ken Hollings’ website | Download the show from iTunes

The Moth
I only recently ran across the storytelling collective called The Moth but it’s rapidly become a favorite. The premise is pretty simple: Each week they publish a new episode in which someone tells a true story (without notes) in front of a live audience. The stories run the gamut of emotion, from the hilarious to the heartbreaking. And there’s nary a sour note in the bunch.

The Moth has been a storytelling institution for over a decade, and I’m embarrassed to admit I hadn’t heard of it before. But, thanks to the podcast, I’m hooked.

The Moth website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

The Sound of Young America
If I had a talk show, I’d interview all my heroes — writers and comics artists and comedians and musicians and magicians and directors — no matter how obscure. And, during every interview, I’d be a quivering mass of fanboy joy.

Jesse Thorn (aka “America’s Radio Sweetheart”) is already doing that show. It’s excellent and I hate him for it. I would have given anything to do something so cool back in my twenties. I just sent in my monthly support donation too, just to show how much I despise him and his excellent, cool show. That’ll show him. Punk.

Favorite Episode: There’s so many to choose from. His interview with Chip Kidd is great, as is the conversation he had with Mark Evanier about comics legend Jack Kirby. And the John Hodgman vs. Jonathan Coulton episode is a lot of fun. He even got to interview Neil Gaiman and Harry Selick when Coraline was released, the bastard.

The SOYA website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

Studio 360
Kurt Anderson’s got a great show on Public Radio and I was a very happy man when they made it available as a weekly podcast. As a free-form exploration of the Arts and Culture, you can’t do much better than this. He brings in great guests to chat — musicians and writers and artists from across the spectrum — but the backup segments are always interesting and compelling. This is a show that invariably sends me to the Web so I can look up some book or album they mentioned and add it to my wishlist.

Favorite Episode: They spent an hour on The Great Gatsby last year and when it was all over, I ended up wanting another hour’s worth. That’s good radio.

The Studio 320 website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

I Should be Writing
The title says it all, really. I ran across Mur Lafferty on Twitter one day last year. Her longstanding podcast is a staple for aspiring writers. She does great interviews and isn’t afraid to spend time discussing her own career ups and downs as well. She’s the purple-haired Queen of Podcasting, a real capital-w Writer, and a true trailblazer for writers exploring audiobooks as a channel to publishing.

Favorite Episode: Mur recently sat down with Scott Sigler, checking in with one of the top podcasting (and now published) authors. Eavesdropping on two pros discuss the nuts and bolts of it all? Good stuff.

The Murverse website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

Cthulhu
One of the best things about this show is the format. The host — known only as FNH — usually starts things off with a historical exploration from the 20′s and 30′s, before treating everyone to a piece of music or popular song from the period. Each episode ends with the main feature, typically a story from Lovecraft or a related author. Best of all, the podcast is open to submissions — listeners are encouraged to send in stories of their own, or their own productions of a Lovecraft classic.

FNH has done an amazing job bringing all of this together and making it work. I can’t say I always appreciate every story I hear. Sometimes the original works aren’t quite my cup of tea or the varied production values from the in-the-field submissions leave something to be desired, but the historical and musical segments are worth the trip all on their own.

Favorite Episode: I’m a bit biased on this one, as FNH was kind enough to feature my story “Summer Salt” last year. But you gotta love a guy who’s willing to take on Lovecraft’s “The Dream Quest of the Unknown Kadath” and serialize it over 13 episodes.

The Cthulhu website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

This American Life
This is the gold standard. Ira Glass and his team put out great stories consistently, week in and week out. Even though it’s completely free (as are all of the ‘casts I’ve mentioned here), I was happy to make a donation last year to help keep the podcast version going. And I’ll do the same again, whenever they ask.

Favorite Episode: So many great ones over the years, but I’ve got a few that I listen to over and over again. “The House at Loon Lake” is probably at the top of the list.

This American Life online | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

The Writer’s Almanac
I used to work on a shipping/receiving dock. My day consisted of opening cardboard boxes. My coworkers were, with a few exceptions, a completely different form of life than anything I’d experienced before. They spent their nights out drinking, smoking, doing all sorts of recreational pharmaceuticals and (to hear them tell it) going home with whatever female was willing enough (or inebriated enough) to let them into their bed. They staggered into work and spent the day doing as little as possible while recounting their escapades, before heading out to do it all over again.

Most of ‘em were scary, mean-tempered bastards. They had 20+ years of anger and bitterness on me and I spent my days doing my best not to draw too much attention to myself.

In contrast, I spent my nights sitting alone at home with nothing but writing to fill my time. It was probably the most productive time of my creative life, but I wouldn’t go back there for anything. It was a lonely, sad time.

I write, partially, in the hope that one day people will read my work. But back then that seemed like a very distant, unlikely dream. For all I knew, I was going to be opening cardboard boxes for the rest of my life.

But for six or seven minutes each morning, I could let all of that fear and loneliness and shame fall away. The gentle ease of the piano at the opening, so familiar and comforting, is the perfect lead-in to Garrison Keillor’s voice as he delivered the literary news and events of the day before reciting the daily poem. And then his closing “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch…” was the benediction that I held onto for the rest of the day, until I was free to write again.

Better times now, a better place. But the Writer’s Almanac is still a daily ritual in my life and I’m just as grateful for it as I was the first time I heard it.

Writer’s Alamanac website | Subscribe to the show at iTunes

So, those are some of my favorites — at least, these days. I don’t know that I’ll subject Ken to all of these (see, I wasn’t just babbling there at the beginning) but I’m sure that if he takes the time to explore a little bit further, he’s bound to find something there to catch his interest.

Enough of that, then. It’s time to get back to work. I’m behind on my deadline for The Spring Chap, one of the stories in particular just isn’t behaving well at all. It needs a severe spanking. But it’s going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt… oh, you get the idea.

It wasn’t all food poisoning and friends, either. I acquitted myself admirably by clearing a number of logs and muck that were clogging the runoff grate on the dam. A close inspection of the debris showed telltale teeth marks. Looks like the rumors are true: There are now beaver living in the lake.

Out in California, most of the rest of them are gathering for a week in Santa Cruz. I might still be able to make it, if the lottery gods finally pony up. Otherwise, I’ll have to lump it here in the Midwest.

The third book (working title to follow just as soon as I make up something clever) is coming along in little nudges. I don’t have a good read on how long it’s going to take me to get it to the end of the first draft but I think I can see the end way, way, way out there if I squint and shade my eyes.

End of the year, let’s say that for now. I reserve the right to completely blow past my own deadline, should the need arise.

Speaking of gods, there are a couple of t-shirts from WearScience.com that are just cool enough to make me wish I’d seen them before my birthday. I especially like this one and this one.

But this one, is nigh unto irresistible.

Other flotsam and jetsam…

I’d like to believe that I would create animated films like this one if I had any kind of graphic talent at all. As such, I’ll have to content myself with words alone.

Speaking of which, I’m delighted to report that my story Summer Salt will be featured in an upcoming episode of the Cthulhu Podcast. Yay.

Also, I expect to have the delayed Other Super Secret Podcast will get pushed out there as well. Possibly.

No words from agents and publishers. With respect to that nice fellow over there, I’m already writing the next thing. It’s all I can do, really.

Really.