Star Wars
Whether it's Han Solo's unseen girlfriend, Anakin preparing for a podrace or a very human Jabba, these ten clips show that George Lucas' space opera was more fun before it was edited.

Star Trek
Klingon torture! William Shatner's original death! Skydiving Captains! Ten clips to give you a good feeling about what you've missed so far.

Robot Movies
Never mind the Transformers, it's the Terminator material amongst these five clips that are must-sees. Especially the Arnold bit from T3.

Super-Heroes Can Save Us
Fifteen clips from Iron Man, Hulk, the X-Men movies as well as Batman and Superman's long careers on celluloid to remind you that sometimes, deleted scenes can add little to a movie - and sometimes, they can add an entire character. Go check out the Superman clone you've never met before.

Whether you're buying for loved ones, loathed ones, ones you barely know but feel an obligation to get something something for or yourself, it's hard to go wrong with a well-chosen toy as a gift. But it's hard to know just what toys you should be looking at, which is where we come in; we've split our choices into three categories: Play, Display and Making Your Life Better, which is to say things that are useful (or, in one case, useless but kind of essential nonetheless). Click through to see our selections.

For Play
LEGO, action figures and things for you to hit other people with safely. After all, isn't that what "play" really means?

For Display
For some people, toys are things to keep on shelves, on their walls or in boxes. Here're a few ideas for the serious collector.

For Making Your (Or Someone Else's) Life Better
In which we suggest gifts offering education, amusement and/or something to hold onto at night. Yes, even that last one.

Additional research by Alex Eichler.

We're not going to argue that this season has been great - Or, at times, even good - but it feels like complaining about Zod's portrayal (In writing as much as performance from Callum Blue; I know that we're supposed to be seeing another side to Zod and everything, but there's no denying that seeing this Zod after seasons of a disembodied voice with schemes and evil oozing out of his every non-existent pore is more than a bit of a letdown. This is the guy we're supposed to kneel before?) or Clark's ridiculous Goth Matrix Hot Topic superhero outfit would be completely avoiding the real problem with the show these days: Smallville has nowhere left to go.

Okay, that's not true. Smallville has one particular place to go, but it doesn't want to go there just yet, and so we're left with a show that can't have significant character development with its lead characters for fear of reaching the (so-close-we-can-all-see-it) ending that everyone is already familiar with. When Smallville started, it had a purpose: These were the experiences that made Clark Kent from the awkward and insecure teenager into the superhero known around the world as Superman. But nine years later, it's not just that Clark is already at the age where he should be Superman already; he's at that emotional and intellectual point, as well. But, for obvious business reasons best described as "The CW wants to keep the show because it does well in the ratings," he's not going to become Superman just yet. What that means is that we get a lot of filler and distraction, which is what Smallville has become.

Sure, it's fun to see other DC characters make an appearance every now and again... But for a show that once used to try and keep the fan service (Well, maybe the comic fan service; there was always time for Lana or Lois to wear some ridiculous outfit) to a minimum of maybe a couple of "very special episodes" a year, this season has been (and, in the second half of the season, will be) full of non-Superman comic characters to try and grab the nerd nostalgia/recognition vote: Green Arrow, of course, but also Roulette, Speedy, the Wonder Twins, and upcoming, Amanda Waller, the Justice Society and rumored returns for J'Onn J'Onzz and the Legion. And, while Clark gets to meet all of these characters who'll theoretically be important in his future, he and the audience are distracted from the fact that he's going nowhere as a character. He's not learning anything he's not already learned, and even the step forward into the romance with Lois doesn't seem to be changing that.

Considering the show's frustrating "Blur" subplot - wherein Clark already has a secret crimefighting identity, it's just that's not Superman - it's likely that the show's creators already know about the problem, to some extent. A lot of the Blur plot is really just recycled Superman plot, especially the love triangle with Lois... But instead of alleviating some of the Superman problem, it just makes it more obvious: If your character development hinges on putting the characters into Superman plots with the serial numbers filed off, why not just make him Superman already? The Blur adds no value to the series that Superman couldn't, and to a greater extent... But pushing the series and characters in that direction so strongly just irritates; it makes the writers look as if they're being forced to keep Superman out of the show even though they really, really want to write him, and makes the characters look stupid (If Clark/Blur and Lois go through all of this now, no matter how it ends, doesn't the fact that they'll do the very same thing as Clark/Superman and Lois mean that they're not so good on that whole memory thing?).

The first half of the ninth Smallville season just underscores the problems with the show's set-up. Because we know how the story ends, there comes a point where the story has gone as far as it can and we're left expecting the end is around the corner. Despite all the sensible business reasons to deny that we've reached that point, the fact is, we're there. Until the writers and producers of the show accept that, it's all diminishing returns from this point onwards, especially when you make the unseen Big Bad of the show until this point into whiny, pale flesh.

Weirdly enough, it's not Doctor Fate or Hawkman that give us the most pause - Although there's something kind of off about Fate's helmet, or maybe that's just us - but Stargirl. Shouldn't a television show's costume department be able to come up with something that looks more convincing than the average SDCC masquerade fan outfit?

Smallville: Absolute Justice, the two-hour "event" starring the characters, airs February 5th.

'Smallville' sneak peek: Doctor Fate, Stargirl, Hawkman, and more! [Entertainment Weekly]

Though there's absolutely no denying Davies has successfully forged a massive popular (and, to a slightly lesser extent, critical) success with his revival of Doctor Who, I'm sorry to say that I'm still not entirely convinced he's all that good at writing episodes of Doctor Who. Of the twenty-two stories he's written for the new series (not counting his two recent collaborations), I'd only consider "Midnight" a classic, although I could maybe be talked into counting "Utopia" as well, if only for nostalgia value.

The rest are a mix of solid but unremarkable filler ("The Long Game", "Smith and Jones"), weird morality plays with seriously muddled points ("Boomtown", "Love & Monsters"), decent premises let down by gratingly absurd setpieces ("Tooth & Claw", "Gridlock"), and fat jokes ("Aliens of London", "Partners in Crime"). Oh, and the finales. But more on them in a second.

There have has more than enough written over the last five years attacking Davies, and I'm honestly not interested in adding to that tally. Suffice it to say that while he's not my favorite writer, I still respect what he's done for the program, I do think he's been a fantastic executive producer and showrunner, and "Midnight" almost makes up for all the other missteps. There are definitely some things Davies knows how to do really well. But if there's one thing I'm really not sure he knows how to do at all, it's epic series finales. Which gives me serious pause as we head into the biggest, craziest, most epic finale of them all, as both he and David Tennant unfold their swansong on Doctor Who.

Still, I am above all a Doctor Who fan, and I desperately want "The End of Time" to be good. I'll try to keep this post spoiler-free, but if you don't mind getting a sense of why I'm cautiously excited, check out the trailer:

There's plenty about that to really like (I'm particularly excited about the guy doing the voice-over). But the track record here is mixed at best. Let's take a look back at Davies's four previous epic finales, and try to figure out what worked and what didn't.

"Bad Wolf"/"Parting of the Ways" (2005)

What Worked: When I rewatched the Christopher Eccleston episodes recently, I was struck by how much less predictable they felt than those starring David Tennant. Maybe it's because Eccleston never quite fit comfortably into the world of Doctor Who like his successor did, maybe it's because the creative team was still figuring things out as they went along, or maybe it's just that nobody has yet matched the flair director Joe Ahearne brought to his series one episodes, but there's a mad energy to this two-parter that no later episodes quite match. It's a bit hard to describe concretely, but there's a moment around when the Doctor thinks Rose is dead and morosely allows himself to be imprisoned (before leading a jailbreak, of course) that I got the sense that this really was a show where anything could happen. The series has gotten a little too comfortable over the past couple of series, and though that's made for a more consistent quality of episode I think it's robbed the series of a bit of its magic.

What Didn't: This episode throws into high relief two of my biggest problems with Davies. One, it relies heavily on a bunch of trite pop culture references that are almost certainly going to age even worse than the creaky special effects of the classic series. As an American, I still don't really know anything about half of the reality shows Davies was spoofing, and I can't for the life of me find any coherent satirical point in their inclusion. I think they're just there because...well, it's kind of funny, I guess, and it says something about people being lazy. Then there's the fact that the plot doesn't really make all that much sense. The Dalek plan is convoluted — to put it mildly — and a whole bunch of seemingly important stuff (like the Daleks melting entire Earth continents) is brushed aside in the rush to the Doctor's big moral dilemma. At this point, it's a cliche to point out that Rose resolves the plot through pretty much a literal deus ex machina, but that doesn't mean it's not worth pointing out.

The Bottom Line: Ultimately, this story did some things Doctor Who had never tried before. Sometimes, there's good reason for that.

"Army of Ghosts"/"Doomsday" (2006)

What Worked: Of all the Doctor Who finales, this is probably the most coherently plotted. The mystery of the void stuff is set up early with the 3D glasses, and a lot of the apparent logical problems (like the ghosts not looking anything like Cybermen) is deftly handled. The nature of the Genesis Ark is a nice touch, there's some amusing character stuff in the relationships at Torchwood One, and the reunion between Jackie and Alt-Pete always gets me, despite my best efforts. I was never a big fan of the special status the series accorded Rose, but I'll admit the conclusion is well handled.

What Didn't: There are still a couple minor plot holes, like exactly how an organization as elite as Torchwood One could fail to notice the Cybermen converting their own employees in one of their hallways. Davies can't resist a couple moments of abject silliness, like Cyber-Yvonne crying an oily tear at the end of the story. And for what is supposed to be the big Cybermen/Daleks showdown, the Daleks really do kick just a little too much ass to make the fight seem worth talking about. But then, they didn't face the real Cybermen. I'd like to see the Daleks go fifteen rounds with the original bruisers from Mondas. (Yes, the Daleks would still win, but there'd be way more insane schemes and cries of "Excellent!")

The Bottom Line: Honestly, for a story that is essentially one big excuse to pit the Daleks against the Cybermen, it makes a surprising amount of sense and packs a pretty decent emotional punch. This is probably my favorite of the bunch.

"The Sound of Drums"/"Last of the Time Lords" (2007)

What Worked: The Toclafane are probably the single creepiest idea in the history of Doctor Who. Just thinking about them weirds me out all over again, so I really have to give Davies credit for that. I have to admit, I hated this story on first viewing, but on a rewatch I realized why it's sort of insanely brilliant — the whole thing is about what it would be like if the Master won. Davies is so audacious in following through on that premise that "Last of the Time Lords" ends up being the most wonderfully perverse episode in Doctor Who history, as you slowly realize even the tiniest details of the Master's plot are meant to hurt the Doctor.

What Didn't: Well, there's the fact that President Winters is a really obnoxious parody of Americans (and as a politics nerd, I'm still bothered by the fact that he calls himself "President-Elect", which just makes absolutely zero sense). Davies writes himself into a corner by making the Master's victory such a complete one, and he never really comes up with a good solution. I'm sorry, but the Doctor being restored by the combined faith of humanity is one of the silliest things I've ever seen, even if it is kind of set up by the existence of the Master's telepathic network. And the ultra-ancient Doctor is really too ridiculous for words.

The Bottom Line: The Master takes over for two episodes, and Doctor Who goes completely insane. That's actually a pretty compelling way to look at it, I'd say, but I still don't think that excuses some of the just plain silly stuff Davies includes.

"The Stolen Earth"/"Journey's End" (2008)

What Worked: A lot of the setup is pretty strong. Honestly, Davies has always been a lot better at building up to the big payoff than actually delivering on said payoff ("Utopia" is a perfect example of this, as it's pretty much all setup and thus works surprisingly well, delaying the payoff to the finale). Julian Bleach's Davros might just be the best villain of the new series, even if he really isn't given all that much to do. The fate of Donna is actually kind of powerful, but its impact is diminished after all the gratuitous guest stars. The one thing those guests do help do, though, is really hammer home that all the Doctor's friends eventually leave him. So there's that.

What Didn't: Charlie Jane said it best with her recap - this is really just one big fan fiction. And it isn't even all that good as fan fiction. It just throws a bunch of unrelated characters together because they happen to have their own TV shows, sets up a pretty tedious moral debate that the Doctor is clearly going to win, and wastes time giving characters entirely gratuitous resolutions when they had already had much better ones (why yes, I am looking at Rose). I really don't like the fake regeneration, as I think it cheapens the whole concept, but that might just be me being cranky.

The Bottom Line: While "Last of the Time Lords" is insane, "Journey's End" is just nonsensical. There's a big difference, and I'm not sure what this episode does that any of the previous epics didn't already do.

So based on all that, here are the five things I'd most like to see "End of Time" accomplish:

1. Tell a coherent story.

Yep, I'm shooting for the moon right out of the gate. Considering all the unlikely returns and longstanding prophecies we already know are going to figure in "The End of Time", I fear that this is unlikely, but Davies has shown he's capable of doing this. I'd really like to not have to shut off my brain to get through these specials, and I really don't want to spend an hour afterward coming up with insanely convoluted, fannish explanations to resolve all the plot holes. If I wanted to do that, I'd probably just watch "The Two Doctors" again. (Oh, Season 6B. You're my oldest friend.)

2. Realize that giant stakes don't necessarily equal giant drama.

Davies has made no secret that he tries to make every finale and special more epic than the one before it, and there's been a solid progression of that in the last four finales. After all, we've gone from future Earth in jeopardy to present Earth in jeopardy to present Earth destroyed to entire universe in jeopardy. That last one was a bit of a big leap, but from the title of "The End of Time" I'd guess that he's upped the stakes once again, this time putting all existence for all time in danger. Which is all well and good, but the scope of the threat doesn't necessarily mean all that much in terms of the story's dramatic heft.

After all, look at the fourth and fifth Doctor's finales. In "Logopolis", the entire universe is under threat, and the whole thing is completely dramatically inert. In "The Caves of Androzani", the whole thing doesn't really extend beyond a few soldiers, a corrupt CEO, and some gun runners, but it's maybe the tensest four episodes in Doctor Who history because the Doctor is so completely invested in saving Peri. If there isn't a solid personal motivation for the Doctor's actions, the whole thing could become rather painfully abstract and devolve into yet another pseudo-profound moral dilemma. Here's hoping Donna will provide just such a motivation.

3. Lay off the pop culture.

"Bad Wolf" aside, most of this has been limited to the opening post-crisis flip through the TV channels. It's relatively unobtrusive, I guess, and I suppose I don't really have anything against Richard Dawkins having a cameo on Doctor Who (although everything I've learned about Ann Widdecombe suggests I should have a problem with her putting in an appearance). Even so, I'd sort of like David Tennant's swansong to have a more timeless quality. It's kind of a shame that Christopher Eccleston's final appearance will forever be linked to Big Brother.

4. Come up with a coherent reason for all the guest stars.

Again, I won't spoil it for people by naming specific characters, but characters are coming back. A lot of them. And it would be nice for there to be a better reason behind it than a thinly veiled excuse for Captain Jack to flirt with Sarah Jane Smith (although that was admittedly kinda awesome.) I actually think "The End of Time" has a shot at pulling this off, as it might in part be a lyrical look back on the Doctor's past, which would actually somewhat justify all the guest appearances. Such an approach requires a fairly deft hand, though, and Davies' strengths have generally been the polar opposite of subtlety.

5. Make it actually possible for the Doctor to resolve the conflict.

In "Parting of the Ways", the Doctor was sidelined in favor of Bad Wolf Rose, but then he had already shown he wasn't going to do anything to stop the Daleks. (This was somehow considered a good thing.) The "other" Doctor has to make the hard decision to destroy the Daleks in "Journey's End", which the real Doctor then kind of illogically excoriates him for, banishing him to a human life with Rose. (Not that anyone was complaining, but still.) "Last of the Time Lords" is just a little too batshit insane for me to really tell you how the Doctor resolved that one. I mean, I kind of understand it, but I think I go slightly mad every time I try to think about it.

That just leaves "Doomsday", in which he does actually solve the story's big problem. The reason the void stuff solution works so well is that it's scientific(ish). The Doctor is able to think of a solution that requires action, but doesn't require superhuman action. The threats in "Parting of the Ways" and "Journey's End" were just too big for him to really be capable of fixing. They're the kind of things Superman might be able to solve, but not the Doctor. Obviously, it's harder coming up with crises that a thinking hero can solve, but Davies has done it before, so hopefully he can do it again.

Ultimately, I'm going to watch "The End of Time", and unless it's a complete train wreck I'm probably going to enjoy it. (And even if it is, I'll probably still enjoy it, just on another level.) Like so much of Davies's tenure, I'm guessing it will be frustrating but largely enjoyable. But here's hoping that he can learn a few lessons from his previous forays into epic storytelling and deliver a swansong that's worthy of his best moments with Doctor Who.

For those previously unaware of this televisual masterwork, Martin Landau is John Koenig, commander of Moonbase Alpha, humanity's outpost on, yes, the Moon. After a nuclear explosion, the Moon gets knocked out of orbit, sending Koenig and his intrepid crew on an incredibly odyssey through SPACE… in the year 1999! The title admittedly leaves this point somewhat unclear, so I wanted to take the time to spell that out.

Now, some might ask why such a series needs remaking. Indeed, some might even argue television producers should put the limited resources available for science fiction shows into making bold, new programming. Those people have apparently willfully ignored the way the entertainment industry has operated since...well, since forever, really. Anyway, the Space: 1999 intro is the grooviest thing in television history, and by itself should earn the entire show a second chance.

And make no mistake, folks, this is a show that completely blew its first chance. If the original Battlestar Galactica was an attempt to turn Star Wars into a TV show, then Space: 1999 basically tried to do the same thing with 2001: A Space Odyssey. As you might imagine, they failed at this absurdly lofty goal. The physics at the heart of the show's premise were utterly laughable – no smaller luminaries than Isaac Asimov and Harlan Ellison considered the notion that the Moon could be blown out of orbit and then cross interstellar distances in weeks the most ludicrous thing they'd ever heard of. The show's early attempts to kick around obscure philosophical points in the context of the celestial void soon devolved into the endless chases and mindless action sequences of, well, the original Battlestar Galactica, only minus all of the iconic stuff with the Cylons.

As such, Space: 1999 shouldn't be remade because there's something brilliant there so much as because it would be such a wonderful challenge for its makers. After all, the show already has one absolutely massive stumbling block, and it's right there in the title. Who in their right mind is going to accept a science fiction show set ten years ago?

And even then, what exactly is the premise of Space: 1999? At least Battlestar Galactica has a simple enough setup and goal – humans fight Cylons, Cylons wipe out humanity, survivors go in search of fabled lost colony, the Earth. It's maybe a little silly on paper, but as the recent series showed, it can be the basis for gripping television. On the other hand, Space: 1999 was never too sure itself of what it was precisely about – people on the Moon get blown out of orbit, weird stuff happens for no discernible reason, weird stuff continues to happen for reasons that are somehow even less discernible than the first set of reasons. It was all a bit too abstract for its own good.

So, let's make it about something. Instead of focusing on the Space part, let's do something with the 1999 part. We have one huge advantage over the show's creators back in 1975 – we actually know what happened in 1999. A new Space: 1999 could be the ultimate nineties nostalgia show, exploring all that delicious Clinton era angst through the spectacularly ridiculous prism of a moonbase that's been blown out into deep space. It wouldn't even need to be a radically different world than our own; just one where the Apollo missions lasted long enough to set up a now antiquated, largely forgotten moonbase. (It's not all that implausible - like anyone remembers the International Space Station even exists.)

Think of it! Instead of just having bizarre metaphysical mind trips inside something called "a black sun", the new Space: 1999 crew can have bizarre metaphysical mind trips while debating Monicagate! And trading Seinfeld quotes! And complaining about how Saving Private Ryan got totally robbed by Shakespeare in Love! And trying to get Windows 98 to work! And assuming the economic boom will never, ever end!

Make no mistake - 80s nostalgia is almost over, and 90s nostalgia is on its way. We're already running out of 80s culture to obsess over, so we're going to have to relive the nineties one way or another. So I have to ask: if we're going to put up with an insipid recreation of nineties life, why shouldn't it be set on a runaway moon hurtling into the vast and dangerous cosmos? Honestly, that sounds like a fair assessment of what happened after 1999 anyway. Keep the original theme tune, and I think we've got ourselves a winner.

Thank Mark Waid's podcast for the heads-up about this failed pilot starring a pre-Trek Shatner and pre-Batman West. Just think, if this show had been picked up, there might never have been a series about humanity boldly going where no man had gone before...!

This is just my own personal list of what I'm thankful for — feel free to add your own things you're thankful for in the comments.

1. That maybe, just maybe, movie audiences are developing some good taste.

I know, I know. Transformers: The Revenge of the Fallen made about $833 million. And New Moon just had the third biggest opening weekend ever. Not exactly strong arguments for the intellect of the filmgoing public. But even so, both of them still came up short when compared to The Dark Knight, which set all manner of non-Titanic box office records. And for all the financial success of Transformers 2 and New Moon, I think there's a solid argument to be made that neither really compares to the cultural impact of The Dark Knight.

The Twilight franchise has its extremely devoted fanbase, but almost no crossover appeal. To be sure, tons of people saw Revenge of the Fallen, but how many people now remember doing so? The Dark Knight, on the other hand, launched a ton of memes, established the definitive version of the Joker for years to come, and won a ton of awards, assuming you care about that stuff. (I don't particularly, but evidence is evidence.)

And let's look at all the movies that aren't sequels. District 9 made $200 million on a $30 million budget thanks to a clever viral marketing campaign, strong word of mouth, and the fact that it was actually a good movie. All the standard industry reasons to assume a movie like District 9 wouldn't make money — it's too political, it's too violent, it's too South African — turned out to be completely wrong, and I'm just going to be a ridiculous optimist and assume that the quality of the movie was the reason for its success.

Finally, there's Star Trek. If anything, the fact that it was the eleventh movie in the franchise just meant it had more baggage to overcome, and yet it was the first bona fide hit of the summer, making $384 million. The fact that it did all that while gleefully reveling in the very same continuity that had sunk so many previous revival attempts, all because the movie was just so damn fun... well, yeah, I'm pretty thankful for that.

2. That Dollhouse somehow, against all odds, got a second season.

Sure, it's a shame that Dollhouse is coming to a close, but that show had no business making it past season one. Hell, it probably should have, by rights, been canceled about six episodes in. The show wasted its first five episodes on variations on the personality-of-the-week theme before launching into the master plot — admittedly because of network interference, but still — and then proceeded to unfold its convoluted, off-putting mythology that left the show without a clear central hero and a whole lot of really uneasy questions the audience had to answer. And it did all this while comfortably settling into #132 in the ratings, bringing in a paltry 3.73 million viewers per episode.

And then, thanks to favorable internet numbers, some decent critical buzz, and maybe some lingering Fox guilt about the fate of Firefly (nah), it got a second season, and Joss Whedon went full tilt at making it the craziest, most nerderiffic show ever. I mean, look at all the guest stars. Jamie Bamber! Michael Hogan! Alexis Denisof! Keith Carradine! Summer Glau! Ray Wise! More Alan Tudyk and Felicia Day! Not to mention the fact that the show is, if anything, even better, crazier, and more gleefully off-putting than last season. Dollhouse might be going out, but under the circumstances, you can't really say it isn't going out on its own terms.

3. That Doctor Who and Futurama are coming back, and everything will be (never) the same again.

It's a been a long year, with so little new Doctor Who to get excited/thrilled/confused/conflicted about. But now "The End of Time" is coming to close out David Tennant and Russell T. Davies's tenures with the show, and it clearly promises to be the most bonkers thing ever made. And then the Steven Moffat and Matt Smith era officially begins, and I really can't wait.

I got into Doctor Who in 2003, back when the show was still very much in the wilderness and the closest thing to new Who were a bunch of audios starring Paul McGann. (Sure, they were pretty good, but they were also pretty far from the real thing.) As such, I'm probably one of the very last people who can even somewhat legitimately call themselves "old school" fans of Doctor Who, and though I can't exactly claim a long memory of the time before the series returned, I remember just enough to be eternally thankful that the show is simply back at all.

Meanwhile, Futurama is finally completing its long road back. It's survived one cancellation, come back for four direct-to-DVD movies, at least two of which were pretty good, gotten picked up by Comedy Central, and muddled through one hell of a tense negotiation with the voice actors. A decade after it began, this show has even less business than Dollhouse still being on the air. Yet...here it is. With lots more crazy stories coming! And the original cast back! And maybe a decent budget to work with! Honestly, at this point, it's all gravy anyway.

4. That this happened.

Nothing like a little Nathan Fillion fan service to put a smile on my face. And hey, Castle isn't exactly bad! (It's not exactly good either, but that's besides the point.) I'd still gladly trade every show I've loved for the past seven years just for another season of Firefly, though. Yes, that includes you, Battlestar Galactica!

5. Starcraft II is coming.

So what if it's "just" a computer game? I'd happily argue Starcraft is at least one of the five best works of science fiction in the last twenty years. At least. And now it's got a sequel coming? I can barely contain my excitement, and it's still months away. I mean, just look at this:

You know, I'm going to really miss my productivity. But I'm thankful it'll be put to such an important use - helping the Terrans defeat the Zerg! (And then, once that is completed, helping the Zerg defeat the Terrans!)

6. That, no matter what Roland Emmerich does to them, I'll still have all my Foundation books.

You know, in a world of seemingly endless unnecessary adaptation and pointless remakes, this is probably a very useful thing to keep in mind.

Showing in a few select theaters in the US, House of the Devil has been a word-of-mouth hit since it became available as a view-on-demand download on Amazon last month. It's the simple story of Samantha, a college girl who needs some extra money and answers an ad for a babysitting job. When her friend drops her off at the remote house where she'll be babysitting, a neurotic older man tells her that actually he needs her to take care of his "anti-social" mother-in-law, and offers her $400 to do it. The whole scenario is creepy, and also, did I mention there's an eclipse going on? Yeah.

Directed by Ti West, a veteran of indie productions, the movie is both a sly takeoff on the classic late 70s/early 80s babysitter-in-peril flick (complete with feathered hair, lurid yellow credits and Walkmens), and a stellar entry in the genre. It's also packed with brilliant cult actors Tom Noonan (Synecdoche, New York), Mary Woronov (Eating Raoul, Devil's Rejects) and AJ Bowen (The Signal). Noonan is pitch-perfect as the man who hires Samantha, and Woronov is simply delicious as his regal, fur-clad wife, who makes every sentence she utters seem replete with ironic double-meaning.

What's so wonderful about House of the Devil is the way director West sets the stage for what we know will eventually become a devil-worshiping bloodbath. Everywhere Samantha goes - school, town, a restaurant - seems strangely empty. Filling this absence of people is the music from her Walkman, TV broadcasts about the impending eclipse, and the realistic chatter she shares with her pizza-guzzling friend Megan. West transforms the necessities of low-budget filmmaking into a moody emptiness that sets the perfect surreal tone.

Adding to the surrealism is the fact that none of our characters behave according to the generic scripts handed down to them by decades of trashy Satan movies. Instead of being menacing, Noonan's devil-worshiper is apologetic and uncomfortable. When Samantha is left alone in the house, she accidentally opens the door to the basement, peers inside, and then withdraws immediately. Same goes for the moment when she almost opens the attic room which we already know contains the remains of a family slaughtered in a previous Satanic rite. Instead of doing the expected "going into the dark, scary place" thing, Samantha orders pizza, does her homework, and dances with her Walkman.

Though this movie is scary, I think its main charm isn't an ability to deliver shocks or suspense. Instead, House of the Devil is thrilling because it's such a thoughtful re-imagining of a genre not exactly known for thoughtfulness. West has taken a cheesy story and made it a prickly, intriguing tale of youthful loneliness and paranoia. Even his Satanists are interesting and unexpected.

If there's any flaw in this fantastic film, it's in the final act when the horror we've been waiting for is at last revealed. All the dark, quirky satire is ripped away and we're confronted with something that looks deflatingly like what we expected. But of course this is only disappointing in context, because the rest of the movie surprises us at every turn. And ultimately you can't ask for more than that in a horror movie - cudos to West for doing something genuinely original with a subgenre so cliched it's become a parody of itself.

Whether you love 80s retro or simply crave a cool new cult movie, I can't recommend House of the Devil enough. It just goes to show that in the hands of the right creative team, Satanism never gets old.

via House of the Devil - official site
watch House of the Devil via Amazon

Learn To Make Fire.

In a post-apocalyptic scenario, you have to account for both short and long-term survival. Fire will be absolutely necessary in the short term. Have you ever watched one of those seasons of Survivor where one of the tribes can't figure out how to build a fire, and they don't win the flint for days and days? They can't cook their food or boil their water, and they fade fast, growing weak and ineffective until the producers take pity and slip them a Zippo when no one's looking. If you can't build a fire, you'll die. Learn to build fires in a variety of conditions, with a wide range of materials. Can you build one without dried grass? Can you build one when you're freezing cold and your hands won't stop shaking? Learn how, and practice it regularly. Of course, it never hurts to hedge your bets, and keep a supply of waterproof matches handy.

Build a Team.

I know you like to envision yourself as this awesome lone wolf bad-ass making your way through the wastelands with no one to depend on but your trusty shotgun, but the fact is you'll need friends after the apocalypse. It could be as simple as someone to stand guard so you aren't mugged or eaten by starving feral dogs while you sleep. You're going to need help, and you're going to want people you trust. You need to assemble your team long before the apocalypse happens. Make a list of friends and family who live nearby, then decide who you want with you. People with useful skills go to the top of the list (nunchuk skills don't count, but bow-hunting does). People with lots of children go to the bottom. Then make a plan and get your team in on it – if things go down suddenly, you won't all be in the same place, and there will likely be no way to communicate. Your plan should be simple, like: Step 1, get somewhere safe and wait out the worst of it; Step 2. Meet at the statue of Thomas Jefferson in Jefferson Square downtown, or better yet, your Uncle Jim's ranch 40 miles outside of town. Don't underestimate the benefits of having a plan – aside from its actual effectiveness, it gives you a goal to focus on, and that's been shown to be a factor is disaster survival.

Get a Gun. Learn to Use It.

I'm not a big fan of guns myself, but the reality is, any apocalypse is either going to caused by, or inevitably lead to resource shortages. Whether it's water, gasoline, food, or plague vaccines, there will be haves and have-nots. Some percentage of the have-nots are going to try to get what they need by force, and if you can't defend yourself, you're going to lose what you have (you're doing all this planning so you'll be a have, remember). There's another vital use for guns in a post-apocalyptic world, of course – hunting. We're all going to revert to hunter/gatherers for a little while at least. For this reason, a hunting rifle is a good idea. That's not a good weapon for close-quarters urban protection, however. For that, a shotgun is often the weapon of choice. Good thing you have a team.

Stockpile.

FEMA recommends one gallon of water per person per day, plus food. How many days can you possibly plan for? It really depends on your space and your plans. Do you have a shelter at your team's meeting place with a larger stockpile? Then a few weeks of water should be enough to get you through. You can never store enough drinking water, but obviously if you live in a 12th floor apartment, there's a limit. Don't forget a set of sturdy clothes and boots, a can opener, hand crank radios and flashlights, batteries, gasoline, and a fire extinguisher. Disaster survival experts offer a few other suggestions you might not expect: beer and cigarettes (they'll be the primary currency post-apocalypse), 3 mil. plastic bags (also known as contractor bags), duct tape (combine with contractor bags for water-resistant shelter or rain-water conduits), plus a few books and card games (you and your fellow survivors will eventually drive each other crazy without distractions).

Learn a Marketable Skill.

Once you've made it through the first few weeks, you'll eventually want to connect with other survivors, whether you're with your team or not. Any group trying to survive with limited resources is not going to accept new members unless they offer a net gain of some kind. No one's going to be impressed by your level 70 character in World of Warcraft, your discerning taste in wine or your extensive knowledge of 60s British Invasion bands (or your magnificent blogging skills, for that matter). Here are some suggested avocations to learn so you have something to offer the nascent post-apocalyptic society: small engine repair; emergency medical training; agriculture (emphasis on durable, high-yield crops); hunting/fishing; construction/carpentry; rigging/sailing (not so good in Kansas, but could be clutch in San Diego or Chicago). If all else fails, work out – no one's likely to turn down a strong back or a durable pair of legs.

Are You Ready? An In-Depth Guide to Citizen Preparedness. [FEMA]

"Not Your Ordinary Survival Checklist." Popular Mechanics, Oct. 2009.

Sometimes, you just need an escape from the relentlessness of the Thanksgiving celebrations, and Hollywood has been there for you — at least, some years. Certainly, in recent years, there have always been a couple of oddball films coming out for T-Day — but in previous years, it was hit and miss. Here's the complete list of Thanksgiving counterprogramming of the past 25 years, including some stuff that's not science fiction but is in some sense genre film.

All movie titles link to IMDB or Box Office Mojo pages containing release dates:

1984

Supergirl A movie guaranteed to make you give thanks that you're never going to see it again — and a strong contender for the worst superhero film of all time. What I want to know is, what sort of guy sees his buddy blown thirty feet across the parking lot, and then decides to try and attack Supergirl using a switchblade?

1985

Rocky IV The good news is, it would inspire you to go get in shape after eating all that turkey and stuffing, thanks to one of the most classic training montages ever:

1986

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home The most fun of the original cast movies, this probably would have been a good one to escape to with your family. Although the famous "Shatner underwater" scene might have proved distressing.

Solarbabies I'm convinced there's something very broken about this post-apocalyptic rollerblading film, but at least on the surface it looks very wholesome. Except for the part where the woman with the huge shoulderpads says, "Lock it down and disembowel it."

1988

Cocoon: The Return I'm not sure anybody should have to deal with Steve Gutenberg on a full stomach.

1989

Back to the Future 2 Given that Marty McFly's mom gets bizarre breast implants and becomes Biff Tannen's bitch, this is definitely a good film for a family outing.

1990

Predator 2 The underrated cop drama/Predator attack movie starring Danny Glover... it's really not as bad as you remember.

Robot Jox This, on the other hand... giant mecha gladiators, fighting it out with chainsaw crotches and other armaments... this is what family is all about.

1992

The Crying Game Terrorists, thugs, and the great transgender panic of 1992. I bet you took your mom to see this one.

1994

Junior Pregnant Arnold Schwarzenegger, watching sentimental movies and crying a lot, will help you understand your own family. Really.

1995

Casino It's an underrated Scorsese classic, full of brutality and weirdness. Perfect Thanksgiving fare.

Nick of Time I may be the only person who saw this movie in the theater. Johnny Depp has 90 minutes to kill someone or other, or else Christopher Walken will kill someone or other. Mostly worth it to watch Depp and Walken overacting in a shopping mall. And for Walken saying, "I'll make you a sauce for that black Irish cocksucker's meat." I'm happy this and the Scorsese film were the main choices for Thanksgiving 1995.

1997

Alien Resurrection The whole time you're with your family, you can imagine you're actually hanging out with lesbian android Winona. Or you can just daydream about what this movie could have been if they'd filmed Joss Whedon's screenplay.

1998

Very Bad Things A sex worker gets killed at a bachelor party — and then things turn ugly. Probably just like your family gatherings. It does star Jon "Iron Man" Favreau, and it's directed by Peter "Hancock" Berg.

1999

End of Days Satan and Thanksgiving — and Arnie! They fit together perfectly! Satan is looking for his Bride... so it's about family and relationships and stuff.

2000

Unbreakable A horrific act of mass murder brings to light a guy who can find the rapists and creeps in our midst. It's light family entertainment — but it does deal with some real questions about the power of story. So yeah, probably a good one to get out of the house for.

Quills This, on the other hand — the Marquis De Sade! In full effect! I'm betting many of you dragged your entire family to see this.

2001

Black Knight Martin Lawrence gets zapped back to the Middle Ages, and presumably, goes medieval on their asses. Enough to make your entire family commit mass suicide, Heavens Gate-style.

The Devil's Backbone An early Guillermo Del Toro classic, and more proof that horror owns Thanksgiving. Your family doesn't deserve this movie.

2002

Solaris You could watch Steven Soderbergh's trippy-ass remake of Tarkovsky's classic while you're already wigged out on tryptophan. Why not?

Wes Craven Presents: They Or you could have seen this gem — they're coming for you!

2003

Timeline "Your father is in the 14th. century." Hey, maybe he can hang out with Martin Lawrence there!

2006

The Fountain And speaking of trippy movies when you're already stoned on tryptophan... at least your entire family will each have different opinions about what happened in this film.

Tenacious D in: The Pick of Destiny Jack Black! Rocking out! It's bound to make more sense than The Fountain.

2007

Hitman A video game adaptation about a guy who kills people and thwarts some vague conspiracy thing. Probably the purest example of counterprogramming ever.

The Mist Given the shocking, ultra-secret ending, this is an... interesting choice for a family occasion. If you don't want to be spoiled, don't watch this clip:

2008

Transporter 3 It's a threequel starring Jason Statham. How can it be bad?

Twilight You probably have at least one family member who's as creepy as Edward. So it's good to get some perspective.

2009

The Road And then we're up to this year's crop... this whole movie is as depressing as The Mist's ending. But at least it does have a genuinely pro-family message.

Ninja Assassin This is the film we'll probably actually be watching on T-day. Ninjas! Wachowskis! James McTeigue! Out-and-out mayhem!

Additional reporting by Mary Ratliff.

Please add your favorite food-related gross-out in the comments too!

The photic zone is an area of the ocean that extends beyond the reach of sunlight, as deep as 5,000 meters. For the first time, a serious effort has begun to try and catalogue the vast array of deep sea life, under the auspices of the Census Of Marine Life (COML). Currently, they've identified more than 17,000 species inhabiting the dark depths, which will join with information from hundreds of other projects next October to reveal the complete results of the census.

Most of these creatures survive on marine snow—particles of decaying plants and animals that descend to the ocean floor. This transparent sea cucumber was found at 2,750m, creeping forward at a rate of 2 cm per minute, sweeping detritus into its mouth.

[via COML]

Photos courtesy of Larry Madin, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution.

The tiny copepod, from the Atlantic.
Image © Büntzow/Corgosinho

One of the dumbo octopods, which can grow up to five feet in length.
Photo by David Shale



The jewel squid has tiny light organs all along its body, which emit and perceive light.

This is only the fifth ever found Neocyma, discovered between 2,000 and 2,500m. Image from David Shale.

The northern comb jelly has oscillating lights up and down its length.



The snake pipefish

The "wildcat" tubeworm, which drills for oil, then dines on the chemicals inside when it hits a small well.

It wouldn't be the deep sea without nightmare fuel. Like the loosejaw, with its extendible lower jaw and red-light sensitive eyes.

Or the swallower.

For some reason, everything related to Claire is great this season. Her lesbotic leanings brought in a cool new character, Gretchen, along with the chance that we might actually see some homo action on this rather straightlaced series. Her father, HRG, has left the mutant oppression business and is trying to find himself, along with his long-lost special agent partner/proto-lover Lauren (another great character). Meanwhile, Claire's mom has found a boyfriend who loves dogs as much as she does. And lucky for us, all these plot developments make for a beautifully awkward Thanksgiving dinner at HRG's apartment.

What I thought was genuinely fun about this scene, excerpted for you above, is the way it seamlessly combined an ordinary moment of family meltdown with HRG's evil agent past and Claire's mutant powers. This is Heroes at its best, speculating about how extraordinary people continue to lead rather ordinary lives. Even better is when Gretchen finally shows up, flirting ensues, and the two girls secretly decide to roadtrip out to Samuel's carnival with a compass that Claire stole from HRG. Lesbotic road trip with carnie action, here we come!

And then there was the Petrelli family dinner, which began with scary Mama P having her servants bring a bunch of prepared food to Peter's apartment where Nylar (AKA Body Sylar, Head Sylar, and Head Nathan) are brooding broodingly about being all screwed up by Mama. All the emo ends quickly when Sylar returns in an insanely cheesy burst of lightning and eats an entire pumpkin pie (but leaves the crust! WTF?). So now Sylar is back, but Nathan is still somehow able to fight him. In fact, by the end of the episode Nathan has emerged again to take over Body Sylar. The whole thing was a perfect scenario for a family controlled by scary Mama, whose sons are just pawns in a game so complicated we've completely lost track of it.

The episode was capped off by a lovely moment with the carnie family, where scary Samuel toasts everybody menacingly and Sprint sponsored a subplot where Hot Tattoo's hot daughter is in danger of becoming Samuel's little plaything. While everybody prepares turkey with their mutant stove powers, Hiro and Hot Tattoo sneak off into the past and witness (bum bum bum!) Samuel murdering his brother! It turns out his brother had given HRG that compass so he could find Samuel and reel him in.

Before Samuel shoots a rock into his brother's neck, he also reveals that Samuel's power could move mountains and cities and "kill millions," which gets our boy pretty excited. "I knew I was missing out on something!" he cries. Yeah, putting on eyeliner and black nailpolish all day is nothing compared to making whole cities do the pogo. So now Hot Tattoo and Hiro know the truth about Samuel's brother, and Hot Tattoo told Edgar too. But Edgar isn't really that smart, especially when he's not wearing his Sith gear. So he jumps up at the T-day table and accuses Samuel of doing the dirty deed, and then Samuel counter-accuses him of doing it.

You've gotta love a carnie Thanksgiving where the guys argue over who killed their brother. Meanwhile everybody else is all "this is aaaaawkward" and tries to pretend the mutant stuffing is super tasty. When Samuel tries to hurl rocks into Edgar, Hiro stops time and rescues the speedy knife-thrower. Then he puts the smackdown on Samuel and is like, "You need me. I'm not going to do anything for you until you tell me where Charlie is." I like Hiro with a backbone. But then one of the carnies does a brain-mangle on Hiro that is supposed to make him easier to control but instead causes him to disappear. Samuel's plans are just not going well! That's just what happens when you get the carnies together for family dinner - fratricide, time-hopping, dirt-hurling, and mind-scrambling. It's a fine American tradition.

The Road, which opens today, is based on a bleak novel by Cormac McCarthy where a man and his son travel through a world destroyed by a vaguely-explained apocalypse that has covered the planet in a cloud that blocks the sunlight and kills all plant life. Brutal and horrific, it is a story difficult to adapt to film - especially a holiday film. And indeed, the movie has a troubled history for this very reason. Plagued by endless edits, its release was delayed an entire year: Rumor had it that nobody could figure out how to market the damned thing because it was just too grim.

Whatever that editorial tinkering did, it didn't tone down the grimness. The man known only as Papa, played with ragged intensity by Viggo Mortenson, has lost everything - his beautiful country home, his wife (Charlize Theron), and civilization itself. All he has left is his young son. Most of the movie is preoccupied with the awful, starvation-laced journey the two of them take, through dying forests and cannibal ranches, to the southern coast. They're looking for something better than certain death, trying to keep hope alive.

At the heart of every brilliant road movie are finely-drawn characters. The plot arc may be harnessed to their journey, but only as a way to express how the characters' relationships with the world change as they travel. Great road movies like Thelma and Louise or even Wizard of Oz use landscapes and pitstops to foreground human relationships. And that's where The Road falls flat.

Part of the problem with the father/son relationship in this movie is, to be fair, the actor who plays the boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee). Whiny and cutsey by turns, he looks like he belongs in a remake of Home Alone - not in a barren post-apocalypse eating bugs. More than that, though, the father's love for his boy is simply too exalted, too idealized, to be realistic or even interesting. At one point Papa and the boy share dinner with an old man by the side of the road, and Papa confesses to the man that the boy "is God" to him. The bloated symbolism in this comment masks a basic meaninglessness - the boy is holy, their family relationship is holy, and that drains all the essential human complexity from both of them.

It's fascinating to see the world become an empty vessel, but all The Road pours back into it are hollow truisms. Family is good. Sons are good. Fathers are protectors. There is even a dreadful product-placement scene where man and boy, on the verge of total starvation, find a giant cache of flagrantly branded food items in a bomb shelter. Here we learn that Vitamin Water is good. Cheetos are good. Jack Daniels is good. What's truly grim about this movie isn't imagining the fall of civilization, but instead imagining what would happen if everything in our society evaporated except for families and advertising.

We need desperately to have characters we can relate to in this world where most people have degenerated into cannibalism or worse. And yet there are very few moments in the film where we actually see any kind of realistic ambiguity or subtle characterization. There is one intriguing moment when Papa and boy are robbed while Papa is hunting for food and the boy is sleeping. When they find the robber, Papa forces him to strip and steals all his possessions - just as he did to them. Though Papa wants to teach his boy to be a "good person," we see that circumstances are forcing him to slide into desperate, unforgivable evil. This is also the only time when the boy acts like the preteen he is, violently disagreeing with what his father has done.

To succeed, The Road needed more scenes like this, where its characters break out of the dull molds of Papa Saint and Boy Angel. We needed to know more about why the man knows so much about anatomy and medicine (was he a doctor?), and what motivates him and his son beyond a nearly religious fervor to survive. And why, if they are journeying to the coast to find a better place to live, does the man never attempt to connect with non-dangerous people? The movie gives us a few possible answers to these questions (maybe Papa has gone crazy over the loss of his wife; maybe there are no non-dangerous people) but they are sloppily vague and leave our characters ill-defined throughout the film.

I don't want to make it seem like the problem with the movie is that the characters are minimalistic. There is an elegance to the idea that the need to survive pares everyone down to their most basic selves. But that's not what's going on in The Road. We're not getting minimalism so much as simplistic sentimentality. We learn that children are beautiful, perfect creatures; families are good; and evil is as easily-recognized as cannibalism. Papa and his son remain one-note throughout The Road; instead of developing, they wander from a blandly dismal scenario into a blandly mawkish one.

As I said earlier, the one consistently breathtaking aspect of this film is the landscape where it is set. Father and son walk through grey, empty spaces full of ashy buildings, abandoned trucks, and greenery reduced to sticks. We've seen post-apocalyptic cities done well before, but The Road's true visual genius lies in its majestic substantiation of total environmental collapse. One way the movie is different from the book is that we're fairly sure that the apocalypse was caused by a meteor crashing to Earth (Papa says there was a rumble) - and it's tossed up enough dust to shut out the sunlight. We witness what would happen to Earth's ecosystem without sunlight. Vegetation has become tinder, animals have wasted away, and the only food left is in cans or on the bodies of surviving humans.

What this also means (weirdly) is this stately art movie is echoing the disaster scenario from blow-em-up apocalypse flick 2012. Given the cliched smarminess at the heart of The Road, however, the comparison is all too apt.

Heroin For Teens!

TMZ has a picture of Twilight Heroin baggies taken from West Hempstead, Long Island. Apparently they've been getting more popular these last few months.

Random Bitings

An ABC affiliate is reporting that a 17-year-old girl was bitten by a man after getting harassed in a New Moon screening.

The victim was watching the teen vampire romance movie with another friend when she says a man behind them started making sexual comments to them. After the movie was over, the man allegedly bit the girl on the neck. The bite did not break the girl's skin.

Ugh.

Vibrating Edward

And finally this super fan from Pillow Biters made a plastic pocket size vibrating Edward doll, and then had the actor who plays Jasper autograph it. Come on — you could of at least taped Jasper's face to it!

And thanks to New Moon.org for pointing out that you can make Edward and Jacob kiss in the new EW magazine spread.

So here are the most insane SF soaps we could think of — but I bet we missed some good ones. What are your favorites? Pipe up in comments with the lurid details!

Top image by Dennys Ilic. Additional reporting by Josh C. Snyder.

Heroes

You can pick any character from this show and get a headache trying to figure out all the story twists he or she has gone through. Take Matt Parkman: He's trying to keep his marriage together — No, wait! Now he's living with Mohinder and co-parenting Molly the mutant-detecting girl! — No, wait! Molly is out of the picture! And now Matt is becoming an African-esque shaman! — No, wait! Now Matt is in love with Daphne the speedster, who's the Love Of His Life! — No, wait! Now Matt is back with his wife, and will never think about Daphne again! — No, wait! Etc. etc. etc. My favorite, though, is probably Peter's girlfriend trapped in an alternate dystopian future — whom we will never mention again! Ha ha ha ha urk. (Matt Loves Daphne wallpaper from Fanpop.)

Alias

This show started off pretty coherent — but around the third brainwashing or the tenth revelation that Sidney's mother's cousin was really the spy behind brainwashing Sidney to think her half-sister was a chicken. I defy anybody to explain to me the tangled backstory of the Bristow family.

The Cat Who Walked Through Walls by Robert A. Heinlein:

I made a dreadful mistake: This was the first Heinlein book I ever read — and it may have ruined me for Heinlein forever. In the late Heinlein novels, every character ever shows up, and they mostly have sex together, interspersed with a lot of drama and philosophizing. It's a sequel to The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress as well as Number Of The Beast, and features characters from several other books — including Jubal Harshaw, Lazarus Long and Hazel Stone, and it turns out that all of Heinlein's characters have previously unsuspected connections to each other. As reviewer James W. Harris puts it:

Having all of his "good" guys sound like a convention of smarmy talking wife-swappers is just gross. I hate to sound like a teenage girl, but damn, Heinlein's kissy-kissy talk and innuendo just made me want to puke. And making his classic characters act out in this limp-dick porn flick is just tragic. Having them go on and on about how they were going to kill people for bad manners is just a little psycho to me. Evidently a lot of people and situations annoyed the hell out of Heinlein and he used this book to vent. Some people want to call this satire but I think that's whitewash.

Maybe Heinlein lost his mojo and these multiverse stories were the best he could do. Personally, I thought The Rolling Stones was a perfect novel, and bringing back Hazel Stone was a fictionally fuck-up of an idea, ditto for the cast of The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Maybe I am a prude because I just don't want the Hazel Stone, grandmother of Castor and Pollux, joking about being stretched out of shape by giant 25 centimeter cock.

All of Heinlein's personally favorite characters get put into a fictional juicer and blended into weird rabble of sex obsessed mob that chirp a weird innuendo patter and are almost impossible to tell apart. When I read these multiverse stories I can't help but believe that horniness was driving Heinlein crazy. These later stories are preoccupied with sex, killing people, responding to annoying people, the reliability of witnesses, rude people deserving capital punishment, and so on.

Venture Bros.:

At least this show is ridiculous on purpose — the ultra-demented story of the Venture clan has gotten more and more involved, with Sergeant Hatred's struggle against his pedophilic past taking center stage, and deformed clones and weird villain love affairs aplenty. Most of all, there are the labyrinthine family elements crossing over into everything, like the revelation that Dean was also the head of the Guild. The same characters and their families end up being connected in ever more improbable and weird ways, making our heads spin.

Battlestar Galactica:

I have four (or possibly five) words for you: "Hotdog is the father." Whaaa? There's also the great way Baltar went from being a slimy scientist to being a slimy politician to being a slimy cult leader — and what happened to the baby that Baltar and Six were going to have together? Oh and while we're on the subject, what about Saul Tigh being crazy-chicken in love with Caprica Six — until she has a miscarriage, and then he never thinks about her again? It all makes you want to grip your television and scream (in a Krazy Starbuck voice) "You're going the wrong way!"

Sonic The Hedgehog (comics):

According to the always great TVTropes website, this comic-book tie-in to the popular video game went whirling off on crazier tangents than a flying hedgehog on crack. To quote TVTropes:

The Archie Comics Sonic The Hedgehog series twisted Sonic's love life into a Gordian Knot: Originally hooked up with Sally Acorn, she got stuck ruling the country and shoved the relationship to the side to focus on her new duties, prompting Sonic to fall in with Mina Mongoose, starting a rivalry between the two women for Sonic's affection. He then started seeing Fiona Fox on the side, which not only pissed off Mina and Sally, but Tails, as well, who had a crush on her due to falling in love with a robotic duplicate created by Robotnik several years earlier (don't ask). Eventually, Mina got her own boyfriend, Sally got Sonic once again, and Tails got tossed into a brick wall by Fiona, who gave them all the finger to have a relationship with Sonic's evil clone from another universe. And that's not even counting the mini-tangle between Antoine, Sally, Bunnie Rabbot, and Antoine's evil clone from the same universe Fiona's new beau comes from.

Got it? Great.

Gundam Wing:

Okay, let's get this straight... Relena Darlian discovers she's really adopted, and her real name is Relena Peacecraft, one of the last survivors of the pacifistic (duh) Peacecraft tribe. And then it turns out that Zechs Marquise is her long lost older brother. Meanwhile, she gets obsessed with Heero, a young whackjob who keeps announcing he's going to kill her, not unlike the "I'm going to rape you" guy in Welcome To The Dollhouse. And that's just scratching the surface of the most confusing, tangly saga of all time, involving endless backstory and weird family crap.

Angel:

I was going to do Charmed, Angel's fellow WB series which had the whole "my ex-husband is a half-demon" thing, but Angel is so much more ridiculous — mostly because of Cordy, who is in love with Groosalugg, until she's in love with Angel instead, but meanwhile she's turned into a half-demon and then she becomes a Higher Power, until she comes back and has sex with Angel's son — who, as someone points out, is practically her stepson since she helped care for him as a baby — and then becomes pregnant and evil — until she gives birth to an evil god. Nothing on parent show Buffy was as incestuous and ridiculous as Cordy's arc on Angel. Oh, actually, wait — Cordelia was pregnant twice on Angel.

Robotech:

Sure, it was supposedly about the giant mechas, but it was really all about the tragic loves and the tormented Rick-Minmei-Lisa love triangle. To quote Wikipedia,

In early 2013, while sitting at an outdoor cafe, [Lisa] contemplates the love triangle between the three of them when she overhears two men talking about how women were "dealt all the aces" when it comes to relationships, to which Lisa says to herself "that's all you know...here's one woman who would trade every ace in the deck for one Rick Hunter.

Sigh. Twoo Love. Here's a great fanvid featuring the music of White Town. Yay!

X-Men (comics):

This, of course, is the most insane soap opera imaginable. At this point, the X-men have had illegitmate babies from the future, secret love affairs, doomed passions and multiple bad transcriptions of all sorts of accents, from Cajun to Scottish. My favorite ridiculous soap-opera twist might be Madrox's night of passion with two female members of X-Factor: Siryn and Monet, resulting in a pregnancy that isn't quite a normal pregnancy. But then there's also the whole insane Rogue/Gambit thing, the Scott/Jean/Wolverine/Emma love doodaddle, and of course Professor X turning out to be secretly in love with Jean Grey. That's just scratching the surface, really. If you want more info, check out the X-Men relationship map — which is probably already out of date!

Granted, not all of these foods will actually devour you; some will simply kill you or turn you into their zombie slave. But all are best approached with caution, and should only be handled by chefs with combat training.

Killer Tomatoes (Attack of the Killer Tomatoes): After years of being made into ketchup and mistaken for vegetables, the tomatoes get their revenge, and a killer theme song.

The Stuff (The Stuff): It's not clear what would possess a man to taste a slimy substance he found out in the woods, but it turns out the Stuff is delicious, addictive, and contains no calories. It also turns out that the Stuff is alive, and it chews on your brain until you've transformed into a nice, pliable zombie.

Bubble Shock! (The Sarah Jane Adventures "Invasion of the Bane"): Another zombifying substance is Bubble Shock!, a fizzy organic beverage. But it's actually an alien life form, one that turns drinkers into slaves of Mother Bane. While it doesn't have quite the brain-mushing powers of the Stuff, Bubble Shock! has a viral quality, with Bane zombies offering the beverage to anyone who hasn't tried it.

Popplers (Futurama "The Problem with Popplers"): Another mysterious foodstuff found lying on the ground, popplers are incredibly delicious nuggets of meaty goodness. There are just two problems: first, popplers are intelligent; second, they're the juvenile form of the ornery Omicronians, and Lrrr, the Omicronian ruler, thinks it's only fair that he should get to eat a human to set things right.

The Blue Plate Special (Spaceballs): Poor John Hurt. When he tried to enjoy a meal in Alien, he had a chestburster pop right out of him. Then he sits down for the blue plate special at a diner in Spaceballs and meets with the same fate.

Curry Monster (Red Dwarf "DNA"): In a typically boneheaded move, the crew of the Red Dwarf test a DNA modifier on a container of vindaloo, creating a monster that's half man, half Indian takeaway.

Killer Pizzas (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles "Case of the Killer Pizzas"): The pizza-loving foursome find that sometimes their favorite food can get a case of the munchies. An alien species from Dimension X lays eggs that happen to look like meatballs, and they manage to land on a handful of pizzas. Pop your pizza in the microwave, and those little critters hatch mean and hungry.

TMNT - Case of the killer pizzas

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Pizza the Hut (Spaceballs): He's delicious enough that he ate himself to death, but woe unto those who cross this cheesy gangster. They'll learn what it's like to have Pizza send out for you.

Bezoar Eggs (Buffy the Vampire Slayer "Bad Eggs"): When Buffy and the crew are given eggs to babysit as a class assignment, it seems like a minor nuisance. But it turns out those aren't chicken eggs they're faux parenting; they actually hatch bezoars, little parasites that attach to your brain stem (and, like all good parasites, render you their zombie slave). And Xander gets a nasty surprise when he hardboils his egg son and decides to enjoy a mid-afternoon snack.

Evil Gingerbread Men (The Tick, The Gingerdead Man): Be they the product of an eager baker or possessed by the spirit of a serial killer, these confections can be downright deadly. You'd imagine, though, that milk would be a major weakness.

Werewolf (Angel "Unleashed"): Werewolf is considered a delicacy among certain sadistic members of the Los Angeles elite. Unfortunately, werewolves tend to revert to their human form once they're killed, so they have to be served alive while the meat is carved off. But if the werewolf isn't properly restrained, you could end up on the menu.

Wub ("Beyond Lies the Wub" by Philip K. Dick): Again, it's rarely a smart idea to eat a species you happen to find just hanging out on another planet, especially if it's capable of literary discussions. The pig-like wub will let you eat it, but there's a hefty price; the wub will completely take over your body, essentially booting out your soul through your stomach.

Martian Water (Doctor Who "The Waters of Mars"): Actually, you don't even need to drink water containing the Flood to contract its zombifying contagion — just touching it will do the trick. Still, drinking the water is ill-advised.

Kandy Man (Doctor Who "The Happiness Patrol"): The good news is that this licorice-based robot won't actually devour you. The bad news is that, if you aren't visibly happy at all times, it will kill you — likely by drowning you in super sugary fondant.

Stay Puft Marshmallow Man (Ghostbusters): Sure, Stay Puft nearly demolished the entire island of Manhattan in the service of Gozer. But that toasted marshmallow glop that dropped on the Ghostbusters at the end of the move looked mighty tasty.

Ebola Cola (Transmetropolitan): As the slogan goes, "You Drink It, It Eats You."

Aqua Teen Hunger Force (Aqua Teen Hunger Force): A mutated meatball, milkshake, and carton of french fries, the Aqua Teens get into all sorts of mayhem, which often gets various creatures (and occasionally Maser Shake) killed. I probably wouldn't put eating the remains past them either, given the right situation.

Triffids (Day of the Triffids): Triffids have a lot going for them. They're a great source of vegetable oil (making them valuable crops), and they can fight off any potential predators with their venomous whips. Plus, they love to feed on rotting meat, which is easy to obtain once most of humanity has been struck blind.

Tom Turkey (The Simpsons "Treehouse of Horror XIX"): Since it's Thanksgiving week, this musket-wielding bird will cap off our list. After rescuing the children of Springfield from the murderous Grand Pumpkin, Tom Turkey gets invited to Thanksgiving dinner. But once he learns what people eat on Thanksgiving, he starts gobble-gobbling up the children himself.

The big single-issue release of the week is possibly Image Comics' Image United, which brings all but one of the original Image founders (Jim Lee is missing, due to DC Comics commitments, where he's a VP as well as an artist) back together for a mini-series that brings their biggest creations face to face with the newest bad guy around, Spawn. Yes, that Spawn.

But if that's not your style, maybe you'll be more interested in the relaunch of Powers, Brian Michael Bendis and Michael Avon Oeming's police-procedural-superhero-turned-epic, over at Marvel, the first issue of Jericho Season Three from Devil's Due, or my personal favorite, the first issue of an all-new series of The Tick. Spooon, indeed.

This week, however, is all about the collections. Let's start with Incognito, Ed Brubaker and Sean Philips' tale of a supervillain who can't quite bring himself to act normal even though he's in witness protection, which is highly recommended for those who like their superstories to be a little off-kilter.

If you enjoy that, then The Winter Men collects the eponymous series about Russia's supersoldier program, and what happened afterwards with a surprising amount of humor and humanity. But if you're more of a traditionalist, then Flash Vs. The Rogues collects some of the best stories of DC Comics' fastest man alive going up against his most popular villains from the Silver Age to today.

Getting away from superheroes, we come to the three books you owe it to yourself to pick up tomorrow: Chew: Taster's Choice collects the first storyline from John Layman's wonderful future detective series about a man whose taste buds can solve crimes (with art by Rob Guillory), which seems like perfect fodder for Thanksgiving reading... As does Shade The Changing Man, Peter Milligan's classic 1990s series about the insanity of America and true love and hair, which gets a re-released first volume and all-new second volume released this week. Truly a forgotten classic, it's probably the best thing you could pick up this week... even if the start of the first collection is a little rocky.

If you'd like more from your week at your local comic store, check out the official shipping list from Diamond Distributors and see what else is available for yourself. But don't leave the store without Shade and Chew. You can thank me later.

Note: This is not a history of novelizations of existing movies or TV shows — just original novels and story collections set in those worlds. And for the sake of sanity, we're not going to touch on non-SF tie-ins like the amazing Shaft and Starsky And Hutch novels of the 1970s. (Even though Starsky And Hutch: Kill Huggie Bear and Shaft Among The Jews have pride of place on my shelves.)

Also, I'm not even going to pretend this covers every tie-in novel ever published. Feel free to chime in in comments with stuff I've missed!

The early years:

Doctor Who didn't get its own tie-in novels until the early 1990s (although there were annuals that included short fiction published almost ever year from 1964 through to the show's cancellation in the late 1980s.)

But Who's 1960s rival The Avengers had a slew of books. Berkeley-Medallion put out nine books, including The Moon Express and The Magnetic Man, both by Norman Daniels. And star Patrick Macnee himself co-authored two novels for Hodder and Stoughton: Deadline and Dead Duck. The 1960s also saw a ton of novels based on Get Smart, Man From Uncle and Mission Impossible, over in the U.S.

There were also a handful of novels tying in with The Prisoner — most notably, Thomas M. Disch wrote a Prisoner book called The Prisoner, in which Number Six finally tracks down Number One — and she's a female robot whose hand falls off. Hank Stine also wrote a demented novel called The Prisoner: A Day In The Life, in which Number Six falls through a succession of loopy, acid-trip realities designed to undermine his sense of self.

Fawcett also put out one novel tying in with the 1970s TV show The Invisible Man, called simply The Invisible Man by Michael Jahn.

Jahn also wrote one of a half dozen Six Million Dollar Man novels that Warner Bros. put out in the mid-1970s. The Six Million Dollar Man, of course, was based on an original novel series, Cyborg by Martin Caidin, but the television show was drastically different and the later novels had more in common with Lee Majors' portrayal than anything from the original books. (Update: Jahn wrote to us and explained: "I wrote five "Six Million Dollar Man" books (one under the name Evan Richards), not just one, and about 15 other tie-ins including "The Invisible Man" book that you know about. The pseudonym was required because Caidin was afraid he was losing Steve Austin to me, which is a bizarre concept.")

But probably the most significant stand-alone media tie-in of the 1970s, in retrospect, was the Star Wars novel Splinter Of The Mind's Eye by Alan Dean Foster. Splinter quickly became non-canonical thanks to its climactic battle scene in which Luke manages to lop off Darth Vader's arm — not to mention its incestuous embrace between Luke and his sister Leia. According to some reports, Foster wrote Splinter to be a low-budget sequel to the original movie in case it bombed — hence the fact that it reuses many props and sets from the first film, and avoids ambitious locations. It also doesn't feature Han Solo, because they didn't think his character was going to catch on. Han Solo did get to star in his own trilogy of novels as consolation, though, starting with Han Solo At Stars End There were also a handful of Lando Calrissian novels.

The rise of Star Trek novels:

According to the excellent book Voyages Of The Imagination: The Star Trek Fiction Companion by Jeff Ayers, the first original Star Trek novel was 1968's Mission To Horatius, a young adult novel by Mack Reynolds. But the best known early Trek novel was the second, 1970's Spock Must Die! by James Blish, who also wrote adaptations of the original series. Spock Must Die!, which I totally read as a kid, involves an accident which produces two Spocks — and only one of them can be allowed to go on living.

In the 1970s, Bantam put out a series of original Star Trek story anthologies called The New Voyages,, plus a dozen original novels, edited by famed science fiction author Frederik Pohl.

The golden age of Trek novels, though, was probably the 1980s, with David Hartwell editing the Trek line for Pocket Books. Vonda McIntyre, who also did incredible novelizations for Star Treks II, III and IV, wrote two great books: The Entropy Effect in 1981 (ignore the horrible cover) and Enterprise: The First Adventure in 1990 (which would be a good counterpoint to the recent J.J. Abrams film in terms of showing how the crew got their start.) In this interview, McIntyre explains why she identifies with Sulu, and how she gave him his first name: Hikaru. (The publisher freaked out, until someone actually asked Gene Roddenberry and George Takei, who were both fine with it. But you have to wonder what Takei thought of Sulu's porn stache. Probably he didn't mind it.)

Another great author who wrote a couple of memorable Trek books was John M. Ford, who vastly expanded our understanding of Klingon culture in How Much For Just The Planet? and The FInal Reflection. (Ford also wrote Klingon manuals for the Trek role playing game, and was always treated as an honored guest at Klingon gatherings. At the 2009 Worldcon, a panel about the late Ford included a moving tribute from a Klingon audience member.)

Meanwhile, Diane Duane did more than any other author to flesh out both Vulcan and Romulan society, with 1984's My Enemy, My Ally and 1988's Spock's World, among others. The Romulans — who call themselves the Rihannsu in Duane's version — have never seemed as fully realized or believable as a culture on screen as they have in Duane's books.

According to Ayers' book, however, all was not well with the Trek novels — Gene Roddenberry wanted to micro-manage the book line and had his personal assistant, Richard Arnold, read every single book. And Arnold tended to balk at anything that went beyond what had been established on screen. If you want to read a hair-raising account of what it was like to write a Trek book that ran into trouble with Roddenberry or Paramount, here's writer Margaret Bonnano's incredibly lengthy account of her troubles writing the tie-in book that became PROBE. Shorter version: tons of micromanaging, characters being cut out, and calls for Bonnano to rewrite the whole thing in six days.

Other franchises to get tie-in novels in the 1980s included Battlestar Galactica — most of those books were novelizations of episodes, but eventually it looks like they ran out of episodes to adapt and started writing original volumes; and Blake's 7, which got a sequel novel called Afterlife. (There was also a horrendously poorly received B7 novel in the 1990s called Avon: A Terrible Aspect, written by actor Paul Darrow.) And of course, as we detailed in a recent post there were 16 great V novels, which continued the story after the original show went off the air.

Early 1990s: Star Wars and Doctor Who

Two other media juggernauts that had never had a credible presence in the tie-in novel market suddenly started producing in the early 1990s.

Star Wars launched an ambitious series of books set after the events of Return Of The Jedi, with Timothy Zahn's Thrawn Trilogy, which followed the exploits of Admiral Thrawn and also the fate of Luke, Leia and Leia's kids. These were the beginning of the Expanded Universe books, which tied in explicitly with the video games and comics, and often seemed to be canonical unless explicitly contradicted by the movies. Eventually, the Expanded Universe gave us a new alien menace to fight the descendants of the Jedi: the monstrous Yuuzhan Vong.

And once the Star Wars prequels were out, we saw more books and other tie-ins set in the era long before the original series — the Old Republic novels take place an an era long before the prequels, when the Jedi were plentiful and kept peace throughout the galaxy. Meanwhile, other series of novels take place during the Clone Wars, like Karen Traviss' amazing Republic Commando/Imperial Commando novels, and still others expand the stories of Han Solo's kids Jaina Solo and Jacen Solo.

The really breathtaking thing about the Expanded Universe novels, starting with the Zahn books, is the fact that they're the only continuation after Return Of The Jedi we've got. Most people, in George Lucas' shoes, would have insisted that only they should be allowed to tell the authoritative story of what happens to Luke, Leia and Han Solo after the third movie of the trilogy — but Lucas seems to be totally content with letting the novels be the final word on those characters' fates, reserving for himself the right to go back and annotate the stuff that happened before Luke came of age in increasing detail. At times, it feels like Lucas' Star Wars movies and Clone Wars cartoons are occupying the space that's normally reserved for tie-in novels — filling in backstory — while the tie-ins forge ahead answering the question, "What happens next?"

These days, it seems like a month doesn't go by without at least one or two new Star Wars novels coming out, from the Fate Of The Jedi series to the more esoteric volumes, like the zombie tale Death Troopers by Joe Schreiber.

Meanwhile, after Doctor Who went off the air in 1989, Virgin Publishing got the rights to do a series of novels that were "too broad and deep for the small screen." The New Adventures line was launched, with an odd mix of books ranging from John Peel's bland fanfic to Paul Cornell's bizarre, Vertigo Comics-influenced metafictional odysseys. At their best, the New Adventures were daring, loopy and sacrilegious — and several authors contributed to the line who later wrote for the TV series, including Cornell, Gareth Roberts and Russell T. Davies himself. There was also a lot more explicit sexuality and racy content in these books than the original show had allowed.

Unlike the Star Wars novels, the New Adventures novels don't tell the official story of what happens to the Doctor after the series ends — I'm pretty sure the new TV show has already contradicted them in many particulars. But what the New Adventures books do instead is something just as awesome — they vastly expand our understanding of the Doctor, and give him a new pathos as well as a terrible, Prospero-ish puppetmaster sensibility. Building on little hints from the TV show, the novels give us a Doctor who's much more complex and much more tormented than we ever realized — and also more fallible, on occasion. You could not look at the eternally childish traveler in time and space the same way after reading a slew of these books — and the new reinvention of the show in recent years has built on that reimagining.

The Doctor Who novels are still being published — but after the 1996 TV movie, the BBC took them in house and toned them down considerably. And after the new series came on the air in 2005, they've become much more kid-oriented.

All in all, the twin early 1990s phenomena of the post-ROTJ Star Wars novels and the Doctor Who: New Adventures novels pointed to a greater potential for tie-in novels to be something more ambitious than the simple "adventure too minor to televise" format that book publishers had mostly stuck to. (With a few notable exceptions, like the Duane Star Trek books in the 1980s.) At the same time, Trek books were stretching their horizons a bit, with Peter David's sweeping Troi-Riker romance Imzadi gaining critical acclaim beyond what a usual tie-in novel would expect. If tie-in novels became big business in the 1980s, they came of age in the 1990s.

The mid-1990s: every big series gets tie-in books

By the mid-1990s, tie-in novels seemed to be pretty standard for most TV shows and some movie series as well. There were mostly forgettable novels tying in with Predator, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Alias, Farscape, Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis, The X-Files, Xena, the BSG reboot, and various other media properties. There were a host of authors who would churn out novels connected to Charmed, Buffy or whatever, like Keith R.A. DeCandido, Christopher Golden, K.W. Jeter, Peter David and Kevin J. Anderson. Two or three women wrote a slew of Star Trek books under the pseudonym L.A. Graf, which reportedly stands for "Let's All Get Rich And Famous."

And of course, William Shatner started writing his own Kirk fanfic with 1995's The Ashes Of Eden, with generous contributions from Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens.

The other interesting thing that happened in the late 1990s was the rise of novels based on comics — Byron Preiss put out a series of novels based on Marvel Comics' characters, and there was a well-received anthology of Batman short stories. Here's a fairly lengthy list of Marvel tie-in novels — the best of the bunch is probably the Incredible Hulk novel What Savage Beast by Peter David, which tells the story of what David would have done if Marvel hadn't 86ed his plans for the Hulk in his comics run. It brings back the Hulk's evil alternate self from the future, the Maestro, as well as an army of Hulks from alternate universes.

Babylon 5 also put out a bunch of tie-in novels, and from 1996 onwards creator J. Michael Straczynski was closely involved in the novel line, working to ensure a great deal of consistency with the television show. Gregory Keyes, Peter David and Jeanne Cavelos, in particular, put out a handful of B5 books each that were considered not just canonical, but essential. Cavelos' The Shadow Within has been reprinted a few times, and Dreamwatch Magazine called it "one of the best tie-in novels ever written."

Spin-offs, video-game novels and name authors:

The biggest development of the past decade has been the rise of spin-offs and tangents from established series — David has given us a series of Star Trek novels, The New Frontier, that follow a mostly new set of characters in a sector of space that no Trek ever visited before. The TNF books simultaneously play with tons of obscure Trek references — including characters from the animated series — but at the same time they color far, far outside the lines. With their weird hermaphrodite pregnancies, married captains, and above all their obsession with the dynastic politics of an obscure alien empire, the TNF books often feel like David's own space-opera/soap-opera series, only loosely connected to Trek.

Trek has also given us another spin-off, the Starfleet Corps of Engineers books by DeCandido. Meanwhile, Star Wars has given us the Jedi Academy books and the aforementioned Republic/Imperial Commando books.

And then there are the video-game books, which started as a trickle 15 years ago and are now accounting for a large and larger share of bookstore shelf space. The first Doom novel, Knee Deep In The Dead, came out in 1995, and was followed by several others. The Halo book series started with 2001's The Fall Of Reach by Eric Nylund. Nowadays, many TV shows don't feel the need to put out novels — where's our Fringe book series? — but every successful video game gets a ton of novels, without fail.

And that leads to the other big development of the past decade or so — bigger authors turning to tie-in novels to try and make some extra cash or win new fans, or just have fun with a beloved icon. Greg Bear surprised some fans by announcing he was working on a Halo novel, a sequel to Fall Of Reach. Tobias Buckell also wrote a Halo novel, 2008's The Cole Protocol. Jeff VanderMeer wrote a Predator novel, South China Sea, also published in 2008. And of course, Michael Moorcock surprised everybody by announcing he was doing a Doctor Who novel.

Some professional writers are alarmed at the growth of sharecropping novels, where authors dabble in characters they didn't create for media conglomerates that keep most of the profits. But they're a growing slice of the publishing world — and at this point, you can't claim it's impossible to create meaningful, groundbreaking work in the tie-in novel world. As a whole, tie-in books may look like a shower of drek — but they've helped expand our understanding of some of science fiction's most iconic characters, and — perhaps — helped those big media properties become more interesting and thoughtful along the way.

Additional reporting by Josh C. Snyder.