Readers, tighten your seatbelts. I’m writing about “Twisters.”

The sequel to the 1996 disaster movie that inspired thousands of my fellow ‘90s kids to pursue severe weather is sweeping the box office. I’ve seen it once so far, and I plan to go again soon. The film includes thoughtfully updated scientific information about tornadoes, and the computer-generated storms incorporate actual stock footage from chasers.

It’s super exciting for me, who as a kid wore out my family’s VHS copy of “Twister” due to repeated viewings. Tons of storm chasers can trace their passions back to watching Helen Hunt and the late Bill Paxton careen across Oklahoma in a red Dodge pickup.

The first “Twister” sparked massive interest in atmospheric science through its depiction of storm chasers attempting to gather data from inside a tornado — a feat based on real National Weather Service missions in the late 1980s and early ‘90s.

There’s an anecdote among the weather community that “Twister” helped boost enrollment across atmospheric science programs, especially at the University of Oklahoma, where the nation’s top meteorology school is located. Data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration supports the claim. The number of people who sought bachelor’s degrees in meteorology increased by more than 47% from 1994 to 2004.

Besides the depicted rush of storm chasing, the mysticism and mythology of tornadoes is what drew a lot of kids to them at first, me included. They’re the closest things we have to Eldritch creatures in real life, descending from ominous clouds like pointed claws, yet they only consist of water vapor and wind.

Real twisters are indeed scary, but I’ve felt that fear quickly transition to awe. To see a tornado with your own eyes almost feels taboo, like a phenomenon Mother Nature doesn’t want witnesses to, yet there you are with your jaw agape and your phone camera recording.

Tornadoes can sound like waterfalls or jet engines. The most powerful tornadoes shake the earth as they scrape along; some have carved trenches up to two feet deep. Your ears pop as the air pressure drops. Maybe the town you live in blares its warning sirens. Maybe hail bounces off the hood of your car.

That’s usually when the rear-flank downdraft, or RFD, shoves 100-mile-per-hour winds into your face. Tripods are blown over and car doors are ripped from peoples’ hands. Storm chasers scurry to get out of the way, but only just.

Hopeful tourists from around the world join Midwest natives and coastal dwellers alike for three weeks in May just to catch a glimpse of the rotating wonders. Roadways have become more populated with weather nerds each year, and as tornadoes dominate the big screen, I predict a major surge in the number of storm chasers in coming years.

It’s a great time for my cousin and I to be working on our Greensburg book, a nonfiction piece documenting the 2007 EF-5 tornado that destroyed most of the town. A real-life tornado tale that’s more terrifying than anything Hollywood can conjure, our book will chronicle the storm’s genesis, the destruction of Greensburg, and the town’s recovery in the nearly two decades since the historic event. My hope is that the wave of interest in tornadoes carries word of our book to a publisher while the topic is popular.

Based on box office earnings for “Twisters” so far, I’d say that wave will linger for a long time.

AJ is a freelance writer and former Mercury staff reporter.