Review: Monster, She Wrote

“There seems to be an unspoken assumption that women aren't interested in horror and speculative fiction, despite ample evidence to the contrary.”

5 stars. Perfect for me, no doubt, but also perfectly researched, crafted, written, and printed. An extremely satisfying read that has already made my TBR list explode. I look forward to diving deeper and continuing my education in all things lady horror! The future is female indeed. 

This book collects brief biographies of fundamental, pioneering, and otherwise impactful female writers of horror. Divided by category and listed chronologically, the entries come across like dainty Wikipedia morsels packed with flavor, insight and wit. It's written simply - nothing too analytical or technical - and directly - nothing too obscure or presumptuous. 

Yeah, so I was the kid who read ghost stories in fourth grade, snuck into horror movies in tenth, wrote research papers on the Scream franchise in college. Horror is interesting to me and probably my favorite genre, though I read almost everything I can get my hands on. As soon as I saw this book from Quirk I snagged it, because I know it'd hit the spot.

And it was delicious. I enjoyed learning about the history of the genre from a specifically feminist angle. I was reminded of certain classic, familiar authors and was taught about new ones. I only wish it was longer! And perhaps dove deeper! A must-read for horror enthusiasts (there’s a ton about science fiction and fantasy as well). I highly recommend the print version, which is charmingly illustrated.

One last quote: 

“These genres of fiction are instruments with which women writers can shake up society and prod readers in an uncomfortable direction, to an unfamiliar space where our anxieties and fears run free. But this is also a space where strength emerges. Women experience horrors in everyday life; the eerie and the terrifying become tools for these writers to call attention to the dangers: frayed family relationships, domestic abuse, body image issues, mental health concerns, bigotry, oppression.”

Monster, She Wrote on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: My Favorite Thing is Monsters Vol. 1

5 stars. Absolutely perfect. This revolutionary graphic novel soothed aches in my soul I didn't even know existed. Every word - every image - is a precious treasure. This is a story wrapped in a story with other stories weaved throughout, but there's nothing precocious or overly ambitious. It reaches, it aims, it fires, and it hits the mark.

My Favorite Thing is Monsters (Vol. 1) is 10-year-old Karen Reyes' notebook, filled with her doodles and drawings and a personal narrative of her life in late-60's Chicago. Through her eyes we meet her mother (well-intentioned, strict), her brother (protective, hard-working), and a colorful cast of characters that dance in and out of her experiences. Her neighbor, Anka, has died under mysterious circumstances, and her effort to learn Anka's heartbreaking story becomes crucial in shaping her developing sense of self. Karen's identity is central here, and central to my personal reaction.

I hate when reviewers (and I am super guilty of this, too) end up competing over who appreciated a book more. It spoke to ME because XYZ. Well, it spoke to ME MORE because XYZ. That sort of thing. And I'm afraid that if I dive into why My Favorite Thing is Monsters resonated so strongly - took my breath away - it'll come across as even MORE ridiculously dramatic than the first paragraph in this response. So I'll keep myself out of it and try to keep things dry, if you will.

Narratively, it works. Each component of the story is immersive in its own way and doesn't ask too much of the reader. It avoids tropes and/or anything particularly gratuitous, though there is nudity and many mature themes. It addresses many difficult topics: murder, death, illness, mortality, the Holocaust, racism, discrimination, bullying, sexuality, etc. with grace and ease and also a freshness I haven't encountered before.

Visually, it's stunning. The artwork consists of doodles, portraits, illustrations and spectacular recreations of famous pieces of art. Several pages depict not only incredibly accurate individuals - but incredibly accurate expressions. 

If I had one quibble, it would be the age of the protagonist: she seems WAY too talented/intelligent for a 10-year-old! Nothing against 10-year-olds, but I would've been thrilled to have mastered the fancy S at that age. 

I'd recommend this for: outsiders. People who feel like aliens in their own bodies. Art lovers. Horror lovers. People who have struggled - who are still struggling. Minorities. Young folks. Old folks. People who have suffered tragedy at the hands of others. Victims. Creatives. Those who are constantly slapped in the face with the fact that the world is not what they expected nor what they hoped. Those who have to endure regardless. 

My Favorite Thing is Monsters Vol. 1 on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Acceptance (Southern Reach #3)

5 stars. Ack, these are the times I miss being in college, where I was literally trained to read and understand and comprehend better. There’s a deeper meaning knocking its way out of this trilogy but I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. Which is maybe the point? Or at least an acceptable reaction to such a mindfuck of a reading experience? I’m actually dying to dive into it again, maybe via print version. I’m desperate to hear a lecture or two on the narrative themes - and the narrative construction! Wow.

Acceptance picks up where Authority drops off, with the addition of flashbacks from key characters. We are granted answers, for which I’m so grateful (sometimes you can just explain what happened! Seriously!), and we are presented with new questions, which I didn’t mind either. It’s true that the writing sustains a sort of dense tone, requiring intense focus. But it washes over you, or at least it did for me, in a way that was refreshingly immersive and interesting. It’s trippy.

This trilogy is something that, as I mentioned in my review of the first book, has become special to me. I’m quite sure it has and will to others as well. It’s unique but personal and penetrating and mindblowing. I hesitate to call it philosophical, because it’s almost too ... matter-of-fact. But it does connect (like many things these days) with the classic everything-you-think-you-know-is-wrong gut punch. The way this manifests in the character’s varying stories is a little sad and a little joyful at the same time. 

I wouldn't know how to classify this even if I tried: horror? Science fiction? Psychological thriller with an eco twist? But that's okay - it's all of these and more. I'm so bummed it's over and I'm so ready to read about it. I read the last few pages on a very rainy day and that felt appropriate. 

Last note: I was relieved to hear from my beloved biologist again and to witness the end of her story (or maybe ... the beginning?). I mentioned in my review of the first book that I admired her ability to adjust and adapt and ... well, evolve. Turns out that's a fundamental component of these novels and one that I will absolutely take with me. Nature - sciences - physics - space - math - it all shifted in Area X. And therefore we must too. Even if the shifts are unknowable, unmeasurable, unattainable. Even if there's deeper meaning knocking its way out and you can't wrap your head around it. Even if that means we lose.

"Acceptance moves past denial, and maybe there's defiance in that, too."

AHHHHHHH so good. AHHHHHH. 

Acceptance (Southern Reach #3) on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War (Abarat #2)

5 stars. Happy/melancholy sigh. I wish I could jump into a glorious ocean and leave Chickentown-I-mean-Earth forever for a magical land full of colorful creatures and vivid wonders and honorable people and layered villains (lol). I wish I could start fresh with a found family of loyal friends and fierce warriors and lovely souls. Luckily, the second book in Clive Baker’s Abarat series, Days of Magic, Nights of War, beautifully offers that opportunity in a truly exciting sequel to the first.

Candy Quackenbush is busy exploring her new home with her best friend Malingo when it becomes horribly apparent she’s being hunted. Christopher Carrion, the Lord of Midnight, has plans for her - mysterious, dangerous plans. When she daringly escapes from his clutches by using magic, her new friends (and her enemies) begin to wonder if they’ve seen this girl before - and if she has a deeper purpose in coming to their land.

While the plot here is again a vehicle for the worldbuilding (which I didn’t mind in the first book and I don’t mind here), this book to me is BIGGER and WIDER and WILDER and DEEPER. It’s truly exciting and full of sequences that left me breathless. Abarat is so FULL and I couldn’t get enough. The stories, the myths, the dreams, the monsters, the beautiful illustrations merge into what is a truly captivating reading Experience-uppercase-E.

Also like in the first book, Barker circles some fascinating Big Themes, like morality and character and victimhood and intent and loyalty and abuse and cycles of abuse and most painfully/beautifully, love. I’m not normally one for love (or sentimentality of any kind lol), but I love his messages here. Love is love is love is love and it’s worth fighting for. Hate is hate is hate is hate and it can be super complicated, actually.

And there’s fun stuff too, like carnivals! And a battle! With ships! And dragons!

I wish these books had gained the notoriety/audience/longevity of other fantasy series from the 2000’s, as I truly believe they’d speak to readers of all ages, types and sizes. I guess they’ll just be iconic in my own mind, like my reviews ;) Anyway, onto the third - which I’ve never finished - and then I’ll cry big fat tears because the goddess Izabella will never take me away...

Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Wet Magic

5 stars. Well, I keep looking for a palette cleanser. Although instead of a bad taste, I want to scrub away reality. And the palette is in fact my anxious, exhausted brain. I keep looking for books that will, like, move me physically from this space to another. Books that will wash everything away.

Edith Nesbit did that for me so much when I was a kid, so I sort of had the idea to return to something reliable rather than try something new? And it sort of worked. I love her witty writing and clever characters. I adore the worlds she builds and her approach to writing about magic and the occasional meta details about stories and fairy tales. I love her ability to craft delightful, utter nonsense.

This one was always my favorite - a story about four children (and a tagalong friend) who rescue a captured mermaid. They are taken to her underwater kingdom and accidentally start a war with other oceanic creatures, which is a lot more delightful and a lot less scary than it sounds. I loved this one when I was a kid because I loved the sea and always secretly hoped I was actually a mermaid and would return home one day, like the well-adjusted super-reader that I was. 

Here's the thing: it didn't really hold up to my adult eyes. I still love it, and always will, but I enjoyed it more now from the perspective of: oh wow, she didn't just write tropes - she developed them. She originated them. Instead of feeling the pull of escape the way I did as a kid, I felt appreciation for her craft and for the influence she had on the fantasy genre. Which is not to say it was a bad reading experience, or a disappointment (not at all!), it was simply different and unexpected.

So, I'll keep looking. I'll poke around Dahl and Eager and Ibbotson and Keene and Hoeye and see if I can find a doorway that'll open enough for me to escape my current reality. Wish me luck. But ALSO - I do recommend this, especially for little ones, especially to be read aloud at bedtime, maybe on a trip to the beach. Don't forget to bring shiny pails and shovels and maybe, as the sun sets over a glistening expanse of ocean blue, you can whisper, just to see... "Sabrina fair..."

Wet Magic on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Abarat (Abarat #1)

5 stars. Every couple of years, I crave these books. I get nostalgic for the pure and colorful escape, for the deftly-named characters and the creative world-building. I get excited to travel to new places and meet old friends and face clever, layered villains. I get eager to pour over the brilliant and vivid illustrations, to dive into a true reading Experience-uppercase-E.

But here's the thing: for as many times as I've read and re-read the first book, I've never made it through the third. ACK. I know that Clive Barker intended this to be a quintet, but we've settled for three, and I can't even finish them all! My vague reading challenge for 2020 was to finish what I start (meaning: series) and I totally burnt out on The Expanse by Book 5. So here we are. Should I try to get something right for once? Should I actually cross something off the list?

CANDY QUACKENBUSH. A girl from Chickentown, Minnesota who finds herself in Abarat, a magical land - archipelago, actually - where each island occupies a single hour of the day. Candy meets creatures and monsters and animals beyond her wildest dreams - but something feels off. She's being hunted by Christopher Carrion, the Lord of Midnight, whose interest in her borders on obsession. And as she immerses herself more in Abaratian ways, it all starts to feel ... familiar.

Tasty stuff.

Beyond the basic story (which is essentially just a vehicle for the world-building, which I don't mind at all?), I love the lessons here: Candy's an admirable Alice with a fantastic attitude. She demonstrates compassion and empathy and characters who don't are heartily and happily called out. There's exploration of fate and destiny and bravery and surrender. It's fantastic.

I recall very fondly going online (a slow, loud thing when I was a child in the 90s) and pouring over the Extremely Sophisticated Online Flash Animation on the website for these books. I believe there was an interactive map of The Beautiful Moment, fan art, and more. I painstakingly copied the illustrations with my colored pencils, I even tried to write my own pseudo-fanfiction-y version of the story in a pink spiral notebook involving a protagonist named Kandi and several fierce old women ... lol. 

But enough embarrassing shit about me. My point is just to say that these books are/were formative and foundational and special to me.

Fans of fantasy: read this. Fans of world-building: read this. Fans of art: read this. Fans of myths: read this. Fans of fun, creative villains: read this. These books make me fucking emotional, and not just because they offered so much comfort and so much inspiration when I was a kid. This series holds up as something truly unique - something beautiful - something with the potential to be important for generations to come. REMEMBER ABARAT, book world. Let's return together.

Abarat on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: House of Leaves

Kelly: stuck in the house.

Kelly: decides to read a book about a murderous house.

5 stars. This was ... really something. Unlike anything I've read before. I'm so excited to have read it - I feel accomplished - but I also feel ... hollowed out with a spoon. Scarred, scared, maybe a little shaky. Maybe a little traumatized. There are moments from this book that I will drag around with me for a long time (like for example the image of a man trying to read a book by the light of its burning pages … shiver).

I'd say it was worth it for someone like me: willing to put in the work and super interested in unsettling academic horror. GET READY FOR A LOT. YES, it gave me a headache like five times. YES, I had to turn the book upside down and read from different angles. YES, it's a little bit up its own ass. But I'd say it's pretty brilliant, and pretty scary.

Ahhh, how to describe it. Well, there are essentially three stories here: one about a family who moves into a peculiar house, one about an old man who writes about their experiences / their captured film about it, and one about a young man who finds the old man's writing. It's sort of a Russian Doll novel like Cloud Atlas, except the stories are woven together with footnotes, not neatly divided with chapters. And it's gorgeous. Visually.

Like if Kubrick directed a version of Alice in Wonderland.

It's also - delightfully and unexpectedly - funny. There's a lot of satire here and I found myself snorting at Danielewski's brilliant mockery of academia and analysis. It all felt so familiar and so accurate and so hilarious. Very clever. Overwrought in a good way. I also enjoyed, without knowing how or why, feeling like I was in L.A. in the 90's. L.A. is hard to capture but it works here, simply. <- That's a super random detail to pull from such an epic, expansive book but there you go.

I am super, super tempted to dive into an in-depth exploration of how women are portrayed - would love to analyze every female character - but, well, hmm. To offer commentary on something like that would be playing into the books hands ... falling into its trap ... exhuming a skeleton of sorts. Better left alone, I'd say.

Beyond all that though, under the layers, behind the door... this book stretches. It stretches what a book can be, it stretches your imagination, it stretches fear into something really thoughtful and provocative. The author takes primarily intangible, abstract "things:" space, time, walls, a staircase; and makes them profoundly eerie. Ultimately, though, I was left feeling warm. It's not just horror. It's deeply wonderful and romantic. 

House of Leaves on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Horrorstör

5 stars. I LOVED THIS! That ending! *Punches the air ecstatically* This is the clever type of horror that really scratches an itch! And it only took me like forty billion years to read it during the apocalypse! Ahhhhhhhhh.

I can't read these days. I have all the time in the world and no energy or focus. As much as I absolutely loved this, I could barely get through it. I know a lot of readers are experiencing something similar and I just want to say: it's cool. No pressure. Do what feels right.

ANYHOO. Horrorstör. Brilliant. It's about a young woman named Amy who feels a bit trapped - trapped by her circumstances and her job and her poor financial situation. She works at an Ikea-adjacent furniture store called Orsk and slogs through the day with sarcasm and eye rolls.

But something is off at Orsk! Something mysterious is happening and Amy gets roped into investigating. She and her uber-enthusiastic manager Basil find themselves in a nightmare of epic proportions as the store transforms into something gross and dangerous - and I'm not just talking about Corporate America.

So, so smart. Seriously. This is intelligent, self-aware horror that is also SUPER campy and SUPER intense. It's funny, scary, gory, and manages to critically probe corporate / consumer culture while keeping it shallow and light. It's mockery at its FINEST. Readers who have worked in retail will especially appreciate the references here. Oh, and the design - incredible. I suggest buying this in print.

I won't strip away the incredible layers embedded within every ironic plot device, cause that would ruin the fun. Take my advice and read it and enjoy it and let something ridiculous soothe your soul.

Horrorstör on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Mothers

5 stars. The Mothers is wonderful and painful, much like the experience of being female. It questions and explores so much. It’s about expectations and fear and assumption and choices and mistakes and the lies we tell each other and the lies we tell ourselves. It reflects the impossible battles we face every day as the hugely imperfect individuals we all are.

I was looking for something exactly like this - something introspective and harrowing and rich with detail. It’s a somewhat short but packed story about a young girl, Nadia, who faces an unplanned pregnancy at seventeen. She (not a spoiler) has an abortion and the book examines its impact on her identity as well as those of the people around her. 

The narrative is a winding road that connects Nadia with her distant father, her dead mother, her damaged best friend, her lover, and her community. I felt so deeply for each character and the decisions they faced. I particularly love the way the book posits how occasionally connection cannot be defined - it just is. Sometimes it's wonderful and stimulating and warm, sometimes it's cold and ugly and painful, and sometimes - often, maybe - it's both. 

The writing itself is lovely, practically flawless. The setting feels timeless (I was almost jarred by mentions of cell phones and Barrack Obama). The characters are distinct and complicated and therefore realistic, to me. Nadia makes imperfect choices and I could relate to every. single. one. It's not a fun read, but I wasn't looking for one. I wanted to sink into scalding water for a moment and The Mothers delivered.

I know that my perspective is unneeded here - probably unwanted - but more books like this need to be published.

The Mothers on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Sands of Time (The Hermux Tantamoq Adventures #2)

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 RE-READ PER MONTH 12 / 12

5 stars. Ah, what a pleasure to return to the world of Hermux Tantamoq and his exciting adventures. I really loved re-reading this not just for the nostalgia but for the details I missed as a young person. There's so much witty humor here to enjoy!

In The Sands of Time, our view of Hermux's world expands wonderfully. His artistic friend, Mirren, has regained her sight and attempted to capture what she saw during her years of darkness. Unfortunately, the citizens of Pinchester have no stomach for the mythical creatures she paints: CATS. 

Luckily, or unluckily, an old friend of hers returns claiming to have discovered proof that cats existed in a kingdom in the desert. With a little daring and a lot of cheese, Hermux and his special lady Linka embark on a quest to find the kingdom and save Mirren's show! 

It's adorable - just as adorable as the first book. The plot is a bit more complicated but Hoeye deftly keeps the pages turning and the tone intact. Each character maintains a distinct voice and motivations, and, perhaps more profoundly here than in the first, we encounter a range of "villains" instead of black-and-white good versus evil. Tucka has her moments, but she'll always be Tucka after all.

And just like the first book, there are astoundingly deep themes for such a seemingly superficial book. It's for young people, but it embeds some amazing lessons within its pages that'd be just as suitable for adults. 

My brain is SUPERFRIED from the holidays, so I'll leave it at that. I just really, really, really recommend these books. Also, they make me hungry for cheese.

The Sands of Time on: Amazon | Goodreads