The shape of the project
I want to start by naming what the project actually is, because I think the answer is non-obvious and load-bearing for everything else.
You don’t have a website with a book attached. You have a knowledge graph with multiple surfaces.
The novel is a path through the graph. The codex is the analytical layer over the graph. The audio is the graph read aloud, in order. The constellation is the graph itself, made visible. Every other thing you could build — events, podcasts, physical artifacts, community — is just another aperture into the same body of work.
That reframing matters because it tells you what to build next: not “what other content do I add?” but “what’s the next aperture?”
The five moves below are all apertures.
1. The Maintenance Window — make it a real weekly event
The novel has a “Maintenance Window” as a key in-fiction event. Make it real, and recurring.
The proposal: Every Tuesday at 9:00pm Mountain Time, the website changes. New entities land. Existing entries get revised. The constellation visually “pulses” or rebalances for thirty minutes — old edges fade, new ones appear, you can watch the graph reconfigure itself in real time. After the window closes, an archived snapshot is saved as “Maintenance Window — 2026-06-09” and becomes a permanent layer in the site.
Why this works:
- It’s a ritual. People come back every week at the same time. Word-of-mouth — “did you see what was at the Window last night?”
- It’s a forcing function for you. The work has a heartbeat that the project’s actual maintenance schedule benefits from.
- It’s narratively coherent. The novel already gave the public the word “Maintenance Window.” Using it as the project’s update ritual completes the loop.
- The graph-visualizing-its-own-change is a thing nobody else does. It’s distinctive, it’s free to build (just a CSS transition + a couple of new edges per week), and it photographs well for social media.
What I’d build first: the snapshot system — every Window archives a constellation.snapshot.YYYY-MM-DD.json so you can scrub backward through the project’s history. Past windows become a permanent feature of the site (“see what changed at the 2026-06-09 Window”).
2. Multi-narrator audio — let the cast read the corpus
Right now the audio queue runs everything through one voice. The novel and the codex both fly past with the same narrator.
The proposal: Different “characters” voice different parts of the corpus.
- The unnamed author reads codex chapters (codex’s editorial first-person)
- Pop reads the New Mexico entries (Tonopah, Holloman, Manzano, Roswell — places he’d know)
- Marina reads the codex chapters about memory and the procedure (her thematic territory)
- Lorenzo and the operator caste read the working-group entries (Convocation, the handlers, the procedural artifacts)
- Strieber’s narrator reads the abduction-adjacent material
- Mick West reads the skeptical_analysis fields (he’s already on the case page; let him speak the rebuttal)
The voices can be your real voice in different registers, can be local TTS with different Kokoro voices, can be ElevenLabs cloned per-character. The point is: the listener experiences the corpus as polyphony. The novel’s cast is on the audio team.
Why this works:
- It’s a structural connector. The fiction (novel cast) and non-fiction (case entries) get woven through the same listening experience.
- It’s the kind of detail that makes a listener think “wait, this is more than a website” — Strieber reading the abduction entries on the Walton case page is a small moment that lands.
- It’s relatively cheap to build incrementally — start with five voices, expand over time. Each new voice is a “new release” worth announcing.
What I’d build first: assign one chapter of the codex (probably We Are the Substrate) to one named voice, and one historical case page (probably Rendlesham, since the Halt voice is documented) to its own narrator. See if it lands. Expand from there.
3. The Reader’s Path — your own personal constellation
The constellation is currently universal. Every visitor sees the same graph. But every visitor takes a different path through it.
The proposal: Anonymous reading-path tracking. When you visit /places/dyatlov-pass, your browser saves the visit (localStorage, no server logs, no PII). When you come back to the constellation, your visited nodes glow faintly. Your edges traversed are highlighted. Your reading path is rendered as a sub-constellation overlaid on the main one.
After a year, every reader has their own constellation — a subset of the corpus they’ve actually engaged with, in the order they engaged with it. At year-end, the site generates a personal “your year at I’m Not Like You” artifact — a constellation showing your path, the time you spent, the entries you returned to most. Like Spotify Wrapped, for documented anomaly research.
Why this works:
- The site stops being a static reference and becomes a personal archive of a reading practice.
- Year-end personal artifacts get shared on social because they’re personal. Free marketing.
- Honors the slow-reading thesis of the project. Doesn’t push speed; rewards depth.
- Costs nothing in privacy terms because the tracking is client-only.
What I’d build first: the localStorage tracking + the “your visited nodes” overlay on the constellation. Year-end artifacts ship at New Year’s.
4. The Convocation — make it a real annual gathering
The novel has the Convocation as a key in-fiction event. The reader of the novel encounters it as something secret, hierarchical, decisive. Make a real version of it — and make it as different from the in-fiction one as possible.
The proposal: Once a year, you host a one-day in-person gathering. Small (50–100 people). Held at a place from the corpus — Marfa (manageable, beautiful, has the lights), or Phoenix at the time of the Phoenix Lights anniversary, or Tonopah, or Asheville. Format: quiet talks, slow readings of new chapters, a long dinner, drinks, music. No panels. No keynote. No livestream. The recording becomes the next year’s “Convocation Archive” section of the site.
Why this works:
- It makes the project escape the screen.
- It rewards the readers who care most.
- The Convocation becomes the project’s annual artifact — every year, a new section of the site opens up with that year’s recordings, photos, transcripts. The site accretes texture over time in a way no editorial schedule can produce.
- The in-fiction Convocation and the real one become a lovely echo. The novel has a secret hierarchical Convocation; the real one is open and small. The contrast is the joke.
What I’d build first: announce dates for next year’s Convocation now. Reserve the space. Let the announcement be on the site for a year. The anticipation builds the audience.
5. Physical artifacts that point back — the constellation as a folded poster
The site has the graph. The audio has the listening. What’s missing is the thing you can hold.
The proposal: Three physical artifacts at first, expandable over time:
- A folded poster of the full constellation. A2 size, two-color (black + the corpus’s signature yellow #fffacd). Folded into 1/8 size for mailing. $20–30, signed, edition of 200.
- A pocket field guide. A small 4×6” book containing 30 of the most important entries — places, figures, cases — in a uniform brutalist layout. Each entry has a QR code that links to the live page. $15.
- The NFC postcard set. Five postcards, each tied to a place in the corpus. Each has an embedded NFC chip; tap your phone to it and the place’s detail page opens. The reader can scatter them — drop one at the Marfa motel they stay in, mail one to a friend with no explanation, leave one at the Apache-Sitgreaves forest where Travis Walton was taken. Each postcard becomes a small mystery for a stranger.
Why this works:
- The project escapes the screen. It exists as objects.
- The NFC postcards are quietly viral. Someone finds one, scans it, lands on the site cold. They don’t know what they’re looking at. They explore.
- Three artifacts is enough to make the project feel like a real practice; not so many that it becomes merch.
What I’d build first: the folded poster. The constellation already renders. Just need to generate a high-res static SVG, get it printed, mail it.
A note on what NOT to do
I’d resist anything video-shaped (documentary, web series, YouTube channel) until everything else is humming. Video is a different production discipline; it eats a budget and dilutes the project’s actual distinctive surface (the graph, the prose, the audio polyphony).
I’d resist a Discord. The slow-reading frame is incompatible with a real-time chat. Maybe a newsletter or a forum, but not a Discord.
I’d resist any move that requires the project to “explain itself” to a casual visitor. The casual visitor isn’t who the project is for. The reader who slows down is who it’s for. The platform should reward slowing down at every turn.