Can't put it down, see.
Normally when you die someone comes over from the spirit world to talk you through it. But if you die suddenly or violently or all in a dither about unfinished business you can miss the connection. Then you get stuck.
Ghosts are people who are stuck.
Holzer talks to them. He uses a spirit medium which means he can have face to face chats. Most ghosts are muddled and fuddled. They've grasped that there's something wrong but they haven't quite figured out what. And they're too angry at their murderer or too mithered about the doubloons they've left buried under the fireplace to figure out how to work themselves free.
Holzer compares them to psychotics. We shouldn't be afraid of them he says. They're far too wrapped up in their own troubles to want to hurt us.
Often they don't know they're dead. There's no time where they live. When Holzer tells them its 1965 not 1776 they do a double-take. "I'm 56," one ghost protests, "Do I look 204 years older?"
Who wouldn't want to know about all this? It's important information. Knowing it could mean the difference between spending eternity in the summerlands with the ones you love or tripping up and down the stair-case wondering who all these strangers are and why nobody talks to you any more. Fore-warned is fore-armed.
I was lying in bed yesterday looking at the ceiling and I caught myself thinking, "I hope I'm not becoming too attached to this house. I wouldn't want to wind up haunting it."