You’ve just read my most deeply personal work to date. Space Hysteria started as a love letter to my father. As an earth science teacher in the 70s, he was the man who taught me how to read. He also gave me a deep appreciation for rocks, minerals, and fossils. His love of science fiction was infectious and became integral to my personality. My mother hated any story that wasn’t Disney, so my die-hard Trekkie dad used to take me to the movies with him instead. Yes, he took me to see Alien when I was far too young for such a film. And to this day, it’s still my favorite movie ever. And yes, my father told me not to cover my eyes when the monster appeared.
He was my entire world.
Shortly after I turned thirteen, my father had a schizophrenic break. He was never the same after that. His paranoia and hallucinations had him convinced I was the Devil’s spawn. So it should be no surprise that physical abuse soon followed.
I lost everything.
How this dysfunction continued to play out for me as an adult made writing this book an essential part of my healing. Over and over, both in love and business, I’ve chosen to partner with toxic men. I’m a survivor of domestic violence who barely escaped her second marriage alive. And last year, while drafting this novel, I found myself in a polyamorous love affair with a vampy narcissistic woman who was slowly draining me dry.
Ruby came into my life just when I needed her.
Her closed world, her isolation, her drive, her vision, and her determination—all while surrounded by a treacherous blood-sucking crew—taught me how to walk away from the emotional monkey traps in my life. Without her guidance, I might not be here writing these words right now. To Ruby “Starlight” Harlow, I will forever be indebted. She is my hero.
Thank you for allowing me to ride with you, Captain.
It has been an honor and a privilege.