Review: Waif

5 stars. I love books like this - stories that are so different, and unexpected, and full of so many twists all you can do is hang on for the ride and let the narrative wash over you without feeling like you have to work out a puzzle or solve an equation to identify the killer (this isn't a murder mystery, but you get the idea). I raced through it - because it really is that refreshing.

Waif opens with a woman, Angela, upset over the state of her toxic marriage. She encounters a man in the grocery store, which sparks... some crazy behavior, by both herself and her husband, which in turn sparks some even crazier events... I'm being intentionally vague; go in blind. By the end you'll have followed Angela into an entirely new life - a new identity, a new sense of self, new priorities - maybe even a new reality entirely.

"Women's wrongs" could potentially be an entire genre of books at this point. I love it. Angie wields her dissatisfaction in extremely disturbing ways, but it doesn't really feel wrong. She's a little bit... delightfully insane. It's a challenging book, and will be unsettling for certain readers - check TWs.  The author doesn't shy away from tackling themes such as body dysmorphia, abuse, control, desire, shame, insecurity, sexuality. That's the tip of the iceberg. I personally can't get over that ending, in a good way - as sharp as it gets. So sharp it hurts.

Read this if you're in the mood for something that is both incredibly horrifying and incredibly thought-provoking. 

Waif on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: A Lush and Seething Hell

5 stars. See, there's 5 stars, and then there's... 5 stars. A rating that makes you question every 5-star read before it, because none of them could’ve possible been this good. This book is definitely everything I look for in horror and more. It's a top contender for a Kelly Choice Award and I've already recommended it to friends and family. It's great on multiple levels: premise, writing style, imagery, characterization, themes, and narrative. It is full of disturbing moments and creative scares; it weaves mystery, folklore, culture, and history into two stunning and vibrant and distinct-but-similar sibling stories. 

Let's get into it.

The Sea Dreams it is the Sky

"You do not know what I’ve been through,” he said. “And I do not know what you’ve suffered. There is a beyond to every woman and man. There is a beneath. There will always be misery in the world."

I suppose this story starts with a violent political coup in a fictional South American country. A young woman, who escapes the chaos and lands in another country, encounters another refugee of sorts: a much older, once-infamous poet. They strike up a kinship, perhaps out of shared trauma, and eventually he asks her to watch his apartment so he can return home for not entirely obvious reasons. She discovers many treasurers there, including a dark and mysterious manuscript that references the poet's extremely dark past and uncertain future.

I found this novella to be absolutely beautiful, brilliant, mind-blowing... even a little sexy. It's rare for me to want to highlight, or write down quotes, and I was fighting that urge every few pages. Isabel is wonderfully formidable and... prickly. I liked that about her. The story needed that. And her relationship with The Eye clicked. His characterization was a little less unusual, but very compelling. I rooted for them both.

But, of course, this is horror. Cosmic horror no less. And there's a delicious antagonist and a slippery - but terrifying - central conflict. Some of the details (the original text's title being translated to A Little Night Work, for example; and the content itself - known to the reader by vague reference only) were downright brilliant. BRILLIANT. The little motifs and recurrences - feed the cat, for your protection - I had fun with this. I had FUN with this. It reminded me of when I first encountered Stephen Graham Jones. 

My Heart Struck Sorrow

"A piece of music draws you on, leading you places you’ve never been. You’d never think of journeying to."

This story follows a Library of Congress employee, returning to work after the tragic and untimely deaths of his wife and son. He and his colleague travel to the house of a recently-deceased ancestor of a pivotal figure in folklore preservation, who spent time in the 30s traveling the South and recording folk music for the Library. They find a stash of old records, his field journal, and much more than they bargained for. 

This should've been my favorite based on the premise alone (I have a thing for musical horror), but it didn't impress me as much as TSDIITS. But there's so much to enjoy here, too. I have so many questions, which I'm sure is partly the point. It's like I want more, but also it could've been a little shorter. It's another frame narrative, with a story within the story, and there are a surprising amount of penises. That isn't a complaint, exactly (I'm a little tired of female breasts), but a couple times I was like ... is that necessary? Just consider yourself warned.

It's very clear that Jacobs did his research (for both of these) and that absolutely lends itself to the writing. I live in Alexandria, and I'm deeply familiar with the LOC, and he kind of nailed both (the part where he ruminates on justifying his existence for grant money... I felt that lol). I'd love to hear some theories about what the heck happened at the end, though. Maybe some brave soul will do a little rendition of Stagger Lee? I'd be into it. 

...

Both of these stories explore potent, relevant, real-world themes: racism, war, absolute power, cultural and political trauma, America's failures (American as failure), corruption, oppression, guilt, punishment, justice or lack thereof, and the darkness found in humanity. There's a lot to think about. Some of it - especially in MHSS - made me uncomfortable. Jacobs checks himself through Hattie's character, but those moments felt a little contrived, or try-hard, like a last-minute safety net. 

Anyway. As with all horror, not for everyone. But yes, yes, a thousand times yes for me. I haven't really read anything like it, and now I'm really hooked on this vibe. Look out for a re-read, because I won't be able to stay away.

A Lush and Seething Hell on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Maggie's Grave

5 stars. Two Maggies in a row for me, having just finished No One Gets Out Alive, and this one was way too much fun. I've discovered a new favorite author! I can't believe Maggie's Grave combines so many of my favorite tropes into something so fresh and unique. I want more! I wish it was longer! I want everyone to read it so we can discuss the creative kills! 

Three hundred years ago, a group of puritanical Scottish townsfolk executed a falsely-accused witch named Maggie Wall and sacrificed her baby. And now, she's back. The town has shrunk to almost nothing, but she's determined to destroy, rampage and kill every one of her murderers' descendants until she finds what was taken from her so many years ago. But she's not the only threat looming over the little corner of Scotland.

Truly, this was so good. Dark, funny, and a little strange. Maggie Wall is a perfectly rendered monster and the kills are absolutely INSANE!! It was maybe a little predictable (though I did not see that final twist coming), but I didn't mind at all - I was enjoying myself. It all felt very cozy and familiar, in a good way. This should get adapted! Or turned into an anthology episode or something. 

Read this if you're looking for: crisp, easy writing, fast-paced action sequences, small towns, folklore, brutal kills, satisfying revenge, randomly amazing descriptions of beer, a few surprisingly sweet moments, disturbing imagery (TW: naked old people - think sagging butts and flopping penises) and a killer ending. Perfect for Halloween season. Team Maggie! 

Maggie’s Grave on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Stolen Tongues

5 stars. I had a tricky job picking a rating for this book, because of one thing: it scared me. We'll get into it, but I've decided based on some valuable advice to adopt a new rule for my rating process. I already have one, and that is to automatically dock a star for a UDD - an Unnecessary Dog Death. My new rule, to be employed immediately, is to automatically add a star if a book actually spooks me. It's a very rare and very special event (lol that sounds so dramatic), when a book scares me, and I think it deserves recognition. 

Stolen Tongues is about a young couple, Felix and Faye, who are offered a cabin stay in the Rockies by her parents as an engagement gift. Things almost immediately start to go wrong, though, when they hear voices from outside - voices they recognize. Faye, who has always had sleep issues, starts to change and exhibit strange behavior. They leave, but it's not that easy - whoever, or whatever, terrorized them at the cabin follows them home. 

There's something truly amazing and odd about books that started as creepypastas. I've read two now - that I know of - that came from Reddit, and in both I was immediately struck by how strange the writing style seems. It's so informal, and amateur-sounding, kind of jarring, in a way that always makes me think like... is this bad? Is this right? But I should not be the dictating voice on what writing should be. It was just noticeable. And then, like, the very thing I sort of recoiled from actually made the book itself that much more effective, even scary? The cheesy dialogue became… endearing? The nonsensical, random plot points didn’t bother me? Life is full of surprises.

Don't get me wrong - this book isn't perfect. It would've earned a solid 4 stars except for the fact that I had to keep the light on after reading it. I really didn't like the character of Faye, and how useless she was. Recognizing she's the victim, and living through a terrible trauma, I would've related to her more had she acted more motivated to... fix the damn problem. And it's a pet peeve of mine when authors throw in exposition to explain a scary moment, versus the other way around? Like "this person had a nightmare." Opening of the next chapter: "this person started having nightmares at age 3." 

I also found the "twist" at the end, particularly related to the number 5, and the conclusion itself to be a little anticlimactic. Ultimately, too, maybe this book is a little long - there are a couple of sequences that are just strings of moments with no forward momentum. A little too repetitive. But OMG OMG OMG - it was so great. Don't listen to my nitpicking and criticizing - this is a must-read for horror fans. This is the type of book I want everyone to read so I can talk about it! Blackwell has an incredible talent for DESCRIBING MOMENTS. He is clearly a VERY thoughtful author, knows how to make you care, knows how to make you scared. I am so excited to read more of his work.

Stolen Tongues on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Pale Blue Eye

5 stars. WOW WOW WOW. Believe it or not, this was a re-read. I specifically remember pulling it off the shelf at the library when I must have been - oh, maybe 15 (?!). I was a huge fan of mysteries and of Poe, already reading way above YA-level, so I must've been interested, until I apparently read it, immediately forgot all of it, and then randomly rated it 2 stars on GR years later. A bit ironic, considering I'd now call it unforgettable.

In the early days of West Point Academy, when even the existence of America's military fluctuates based on politics and opinion, a tragedy has occurred: the death of a cadet. Retired constable Gus Landor is pulled away from his isolated farm to investigate the horrific mutilation of the body, and must enlist the services of a cadet - a young poet named Edgar Allen Poe - for assistance. With few leads and many suspects, the two forge a strong friendship despite, or because of, the strange darkness of the crimes they seek to solve.

This is a deeply engrossing, atmospheric, Gothic-adjacent piece of historical fiction. I was immediately charmed by its tone of voice - both tones of voice - and the wry humor threading its way through the suspense and intrigue. It was easy going, because I was very interested, but it also had me flexing some muscles I gained as an English Lit major I haven't used in a long time. Speaking of which, this book should absolutely be studied.

I should mention that my opinion of this around the 75% mark was different. I thought everything was a bit too obvious, the villain too predictable, the second half draggy, and that our detective didn't even do that much, well, detecting. But I shouldn't have doubted: the storyteller lands the plane with an incredibly satisfying, thrilling, thump to the ground. I am a little bit in awe.

Is it perfect? Of course not. Every now and then I found myself laughing, unsure if I was laughing with the author or at him. That wry humor could've easily veered into an obnoxious pretentiousness - Bayard is obviously incredibly talented, and knows it. And yes, I think maybe the twist will piss off some readers, if they make it there. Cartoonish? It's something. But I, going on gut alone, think Poe would have approved. Does it all make sense? Does it track perfectly? Does it matter?

I would've liked to spend more time with Landor and Poe. They felt like family, by the end... forgivable of their flaws, perhaps even honorable because of them. But there couldn't, or shouldn't, be a second team-up, it would be impossible and cheaply composed and contrary to the corner of this story that is tragic. Another re-read, then, in the future, when I've again forgotten the twists and turns - or maybe when I haven't, and can read it with a sneakier eye. 

The Pale Blue Eye on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Willows

5 stars. I found this terrifying. Everything about it: its familiar premise, the fresh path it carves, its tidy, concise plot, its words and sentences and sequences, its ending... it really spooked me. I would have loved to study this in a class and dissect it until I know what makes it tick, or until I discover that it bloomed from the magic of right time, right place, right idea, right author. The word that comes to mind is masterpiece.

It's a simple predicament: our unnamed narrator and his Swedish companion, after having traveled many miles via canoe on the Danube, stop for the night on an isolated island absent of life except for many crowded willows. They set up camp, gather some driftwood and settle in for the night. Soon it becomes clear, quite predictably, that something isn't quite right with the island - the river is rising, the wind is deafening, the willow branches sway, and something else... something otherworldly... doesn't want them to leave. 

It does sound a bit cheesy. In fact I think I went into this expecting cheesy. Or maybe I was expecting cliches. It's so much more than that. "There was a suggestion here of personal agency, of deliberate intention, of aggressive hostility, and it terrified me into a sort of rigidity." I was not ready for the crazy cosmic twists and turns this story takes - and yes, I know some folks argue that it isn't horror, it's weird, but often I find weird horrifying, so I'll say it's both. It's deeply unsettling, disturbing, creative in a way I haven't encountered before. It's very, very obvious that the author maybe... wanted to believe, or wanted to be open, or was sort of... daydreaming up the situation as though fantasizing. It almost felt personal. Which gives it that extra disturbing edge.

I find it really fascinating that packed into this short story is so much psychological self-analysis. The narrator is telling us the story from the future, recalling a memory, and he details almost every twist or shift of emotion he experiences, sometimes in the length of a second or a moment. From awe to disbelief to dread to confusion to "curious excitement" to mistrust to fear to deep, existential terror - we are along for every step of the ride. "Yet what I felt of dread was no ordinary ghostly fear. It was infinitely greater, stranger, and seemed to arise from some dim ancestral sense of terror more profoundly disturbing than anything I had known or dreamed of."

What I also admire is that, for all the atmospheric detail included, there's very little context about the characters. They are virtually without identity. We're told again and again to include context around characters - especially in horror - so the emotional stakes feel high. This proves that technique less required. The author peppered in just enough clues, but really it's his insane adeptness at writing terror that makes it irrelevant.

That ending!

The Willows on: Amazon | Goodreads | Bookshop.org

Review: O Caledonia

5 stars. I hardly know what to say. Unusual, dark and deeply entertaining, O Caledonia needs to be more widely read and studied. It's one of those books that speaks loudly and deliberately about being a young woman - one of those books that offers many profound moments but few profound answers. A lot like life itself. I loved it. Would call it an after dinner drink to Jane Eyre, a cleanser to The Awakening, a complement to Rebecca.

Beginning and ending with her death, this book weaves together the childhood and adolescence of young Janet, woefully misunderstood in the Scottish countryside. Unable to embrace - and utterly repulsed by - the expectations of young women at the time, she finds comfort in solitude, animals and books. Though we are shown her clumsy coming-of-age and eventual demise with no mercy, the story itself is darkly funny, amusing and clever.

It's wonderful. I have so many questions. I would've loved to take a class on this and I hope it'll be added to every lit syllabus out there. Anyone need an idea for a term paper? I would've loved to dive into: her depth and intelligence as a supposed misfit; not just the nature of, not just the perpetrator of, but also the timing of her death (in her case, does falling in love = her fall of grace?); her family (odd, certainly not innocent, certainly as worthy of judgment at times as she is); her many classical references; her passions; her rejection of humanity; her gifts and failings and self-awareness... there are infinite avenues to explore, especially in a character study like this one.

The writing itself is brilliant. It's the perfect length. It's also well-paced, and full of entertaining episodes, all of them straight and to the point. I've seen a few others complain about an abrupt ending, but I found it appropriate. It's ironic at times, nasty at times, beautiful at others. Highly, highly recommend.

O Caledonia on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Speaks the Nightbird (Matthew Corbett #1)

5 stars, but I would give this 10 if I could. This is by far one of the best books I've ever read. Most well-written, most enjoyable, most entertaining, most impressive, most well-plotted... it really tops the lists for all of those categories. It'll be in my best of the year list, and also my forever favorites. This is a must-read for fans of horror, historical fiction and immersive mysteries. It will keep even the most well-seasoned reader guessing and glued to the story. I cannot say enough good things. It bought me so much joy. 

Speaks the Nightbird takes place at the very end of the 1600s. The New World has been colonized but not conquered, as many new settlements struggle to prosper with so many threats: the climate, the soil, wild beasts, Indians... and most recently, the work of the devil. Fount Royal, the southernmost colony in the Carolinas, seems doomed to fail thanks to the curse of a witch, who allegedly murdered her husband (plus the town's reverend) and committed a few other delightfully unspeakable acts.

Having accused and jailed the witch but aware she is by law innocent until proven guilty, the town's founder sends for a magistrate from the nearby Charles Town to judge the case and provide sentencing, who arrives under somewhat unsteady circumstances with his trusted clerk, Matthew Corbett. And so we are off. 

Off on an investigation so twisty, so dark, so intense that maybe, like me, you'll need to put together a list of suspects on your phone and obsess over the details so you won't miss a single clue (“has a mysterious sack in his barn” really played out in a fun way eh?). Maybe you'll be compelled to discuss it at length with those around you because you can't stop thinking about the characters or the world or the answers to the many questions. Maybe you'll get a few things right, but likely you won't. It's genius in that way.

Matthew Corbett is a great, if somewhat unlucky, hero. Sort of... a Sherlock Holmes type with all the feeeeeeelings and frustrations and follies of being young (and in this case, in love). He is not perfect, nor is he your typical romantic alpha. And yet watching him basically fumble his way through this mystery was a wonderfully rich and sometimes humorous experience, because even as things went wrong at every turn, he stayed true to himself. I really look forward to continuing his journey.

I can't say I've ever, as an adult, been so transported by a book. It is written as though the author literally saw the events unfold before him and he transcribed them so smoothly and vividly I felt like I was there watching with him. (Speaking of, why??? how??? has this not been adapted yet?? HBO?!?!) It's a particular type of sustenance to the soul: like brain food, like a soak in a hot tub, like a hike or a drive when the leaves peak in Autumn, like a sip of expensive whiskey (or apple beer). This book made me fall in love with reading all over again.

Speaks the Nightbird on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Krampus

5 stars. This was really, really fun. I'm so lucky to have found Brom, because his books tick all my boxes as they say on Love Island. Other reviewers noted that this is more dark fantasy than horror, but it's not disappointing - in fact, it's breathtaking. I couldn't put it down. It's also peppered with plenty of truly funny moments... part of its charm. 

500 years ago, the ancient god Baldr trapped the Yule Lord Krampus deep underneath Boone County, West Virginia. During his captivity, Krampus manages to gain several followers and Baldr evolves into what we know as Santa Claus. When Krampus escapes, he is intent on getting his revenge and gaining back the believers he lost. Caught in the middle of this is Jesse, a young, struggling musician trying to get his wife and daughter back. 

Brom himself in the afterword mentions that part of his inspiration came from wondering what would happen if Krampus fought Santa. His explorative answer is a fantastic mish-mash of Nordic folklore, ancient myth and religious imagery. I love two-in-one stories: stories that weave a fairy tale with some sort of social, political or human challenge (think Pan's Labyrinth) and this one does it beautifully.

Here's what I loved: the twist on good vs evil. Santa and Krampus are decidedly capable of both. Both have committed atrocities for personal gain. Both have brought hope and strength to their believers. I also loved what Krampus, especially, stood for. I don't believe in much, but I respect ancient beliefs. I loved the chapter at Horton's deeply, all the way down to my toes. I loved the ending, Vernon's most of all. 

And I loved the depiction of West Virginia, a land of small, struggling communities largely failed by their leaders. Krampus' discoveries about the way humans treat ourselves and the land were heartbreakingly true. It was a proper choice of setting and I'm glad we didn't widen the window really, except to go to Spain lol.

I do also have to say that from a technical standpoint, Brom is really perfect at plotting, pacing, character and structure. He incorporates elements and returns to them at clever times, leaving the reader with a feeling of intense satisfaction. His characters have depth and complexity, and nothing feels half-assed or poorly written. I really am a huge fan, and I highly recommend it.

Krampus on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Kill Creek

5 stars!! WOW - this was WILD, and I loved it! Apparently my 2023 reading interests pretty much 100% point towards horror, and the absolutely delightful chills I got from this book are fuel to the fire. It's a long book, with many scares and many twists and turns, but I want more. I WANT MORE! I want an adaptation, ASAP.

It's a solid premise freshly baked in a familiar oven: a group of 4 horror authors are asked to spend a night in a house together for an interview with a tech bro. Naturally, the house has a bit of a bad history. Naturally, tension builds as each individual experiences something spooky. Unnaturally, this is only the beginning. Seriously. Buckle up.

I really loved our group of players. Sam is the pretty, edgy hero, talented with a rough past. T.C. Moore is a badass button-pusher known for writing pyschosexual thrillers. Daniel Slaughter writes popcorn paperbacks for young adults. And Sebastian Cole is the celebrated old school writer famous for what are now considered classics.

It's a great bunch. You can just tell that each one brings a unique perspective, and not just for the purpose of scaring them in unique ways. Sure, many of their... vulnerabilities, shall we say, are a bit predictable, but they complement each other. It's a fleshed out family, for lack of a better term. I rooted for them all, even when things started to go very wrong.

I've seen a few complaints about the writing of T.C. and I kind of get it, but to be honest I didn't catch anything offensive. Same with the climax - yep, it is absolute chaos, but I couldn't look away. I also really loved the ending. We even got some detailed answers, which I wasn't expecting! Thought it would be more ambiguous. Not a complaint.

This is a must-read for horror fans. It's got everything: a haunted house, well-written characters, a lot of excellent scares, a couple of slasher sequences (that fucking hatchet), even a good old crawl space! Oh yes, that reminds me: I appreciated the incorporation of character background details that re-emerged, or became important eventually. I know that type of full circle writing bugs some people as too matchy or cute or gimmicky, but I thought it was done really cleverly here. 

Scott Thomas did for a black shoe what Grady Hendrix did for the phrase "soft thump," what Nick Roberts did for a warm hand. He made it downright chilling. I WISH THERE WAS MORE!

Kill Creek on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads