Although I love most genres - erotica and erotic romance and all its subdivisions, horror, literary stuff, action, drama comedy etc - there's one in particular that has the power above all other genres to make me excited just because it is what it is. And by that I mean: if I see a trailer at the cinema for a sci-fi movie, I'll automatically be excited because it's sci-fi.
Some drab drama about gritty things happening in political situations? Nope. The latest gore-fest installment in the Mutilation Is Orsum franchise? No excitement from me. Some comedy starring what's his face and a cut-out love interest? I was too busy rooting through my pic and mix to be interested.
But give me some spaceships and aliens and other worlds and time travel machines and I will at the very least pay rapt attention to the trailer.
And to this day, nothing affects me more strongly, film-wise, than the Alien franchise.
No movie has invaded my dreams more intensely than the those three films have. No movie has informed my idea of what a strong heroine should be as clearly as those three films have.
And I know all of this now, more than ever, because of my response to the trailer for the new Alien movie, Prometheus.
I swear to God, summat happened to me when I heard that music. When I heard some woman saying we're sorry, we were wrong, so wrong. I'm not even sure why that voiceover resonates with me so strongly, and reminds me so definitively of the Alien movies.
But try as Ridley Scott might to deny it's not really a prequel, those things tell me it is. It's like the DNA of a true Alien movie has imprinted itself on my psyche, and everything about that first trailer awoke that DNA inside me. I watched it over and over, greedy for more details, for more of the iconic imagery I so love - the horseshoe shaped ship, the agony of that obscene birth, the space docks and the confined spaces and Noomi Rapace's beautiful face.
I hope they don't waste her, in it, because they couldn't have picked a better woman to take up Ripley's mantle. As Lisbet Salander, Rapace cut a jagged swathe through Dragon Tattoo, and all while maintaining a kind of gentle woundedness behind her eyes.
That's what I want. I want my heroine, fierce and sharp and still a woman all at the same time. I want the true Alien movie of my childhood again, to remind me of why I started loving science fiction, in the first place.
I love it because of Alien. And when I see that sci-fi trailer on the big screen, that's what I always dream and hope for: Ellen Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.