R.L. Stine is back, people.
That's right, the king of the blonde-girl-screaming-as-she-runs-away-from-scary-thing-that-could-be-a-ghost-or-could-be-in-her-head story is returning.
Not with the kind of books I used to read, though. I was too old for the Goosebumps series by the time they came along. I read his squat paperbacks for teenagers, feeding off a monthly diet of Sweet Valley High, R.L. Stine, Christopher Pike, book for school, and back to Sweet Valley High. The thing about the popular, non-school books, was each week a new one arrived at the local pharmacy. (In small towns, one often buys her books from the pharmacy.) It was like Archie's Digest, but with depth. Like, maybe a whole inch of depth.
On nostalgia alone, I have to say I'm pretty excited. Not 90210 is returning excited, or even New Kids on the Block are reuniting excited, but pretty gosh darn excited.
In other news.... um, what the hell?
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