Review: The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires

44074800._SY475_.jpg

5 stars. I loved this. I'm so lucky I snagged it from the library, but I look forward to owning a copy one day so I can re-read my favorite bits. Absolutely epic.  

From the outside, Patricia Campbell has everything a woman could want - sensible husband, two kids, home in a nice neighborhood, a safe community. She's living the suburban dream. Unfortunately, life as a housewife and full-time mother leaves her feeling a bit hollowed out. She jumps at the chance to form a sort-of book club so she and other neighborhood moms can read all things dark and exciting: true crime, horror, and murderrrr books. 

Then a stranger shows up in the neighborhood, and things get weird. Patricia is violently attacked and children begin to disappear in the surrounding area. She's drawn to the stranger, but it soon becomes clear that he's not at all who he says he is - he's actually something much worse. Something that may or may not even be human. 

Like many (but not all) great books about vampires, The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires is not really about the monster. He exists rather in the shadows - in fact, he doesn't even show up until 10% in - as we watch Patricia Try To Have It All and Also Protect Her Children from a Suspicious Threat Even Though Nobody Believes Her.

(It's not actually that cliche - Patricia's a fantastically flawed heroine who messes up a ton with nothing but good, or at least understandable, intentions. Her friends are equally justified and essentially victims of a society designed to cripple women. So.)

Speaking of Nobody Believing Her, holy shit - I squirmed so much through the middle of the book, just prior to the flashforward. The term humiliation horror crossed my mind more than once as Patricia's character was completely squashed by the true monster of the book: her husband. All the husbands. All of them deserved so much worse than they got. I was hoping for a truly satisfying I Told You So moment, just to watch the tables turn. They deserved to be vampire food, all of them. Oh well. 

In many ways this book was exactly what I expected: a charming look at a group of strong and spirited Southern housewives versus a vampire in the 90s. In other ways, though, I was completely surprised. This book is so much more than a thrilling monster fight. It is a cultural study, a piece of anthropology, a tribute to imperfect efforts, a long overdue testament to the housewife, a deep and painful critique of the trash husbands of the not-so-distant past. It shouts loudly about the shittiness of marriage and parenting and adult friendships and the suburbs. It offers grotesque horror alongside hilarious moments. Slight uneven packing aside, there's snappy dialogue and true courage and a lovely wrap-up that left me grinning. Grady Hendrix nailed in. 

The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: A Cosmology of Monsters

43506916.jpg

4 stars. Absolutely fascinated with the pace of this unusual and horrifying story. I know everyone fetishes the debut novel but I’m gonna say it - this is an impressive one. I really look forward to seeing what Shaun Hamill writes next. This book just smells fresh, you know? 

I don’t want to go into too much detail (because I really enjoyed going in blind), but essentially this novel - told from the perspective of the youngest child - is about a family that gets targeted and stalked by something ... evil. A monster who preys on their suffering and torments their souls, a monster who eventually meets its match in young Noah. A monster who shows Noah more than he could ever dread or dream or think or feel. A monster who shows him that true horror - true evil, oh yes my pretties - lurks within ourselves. Perhaps even within existence itself.

The writing is GREAT. It’s smooth and conversational and quick in ways I haven’t experienced in awhile. The author captures his characters - none of whom are heroes (YASSSS) - so distinctly, so beautifully, I could actually picture them. The PACING! Absolutely awesome. Untraditional - there isn’t predictable rising action or even a climax, just one long, captivating ride that ends exactly the way it should. And the PREMISE! Oh god, so creative and imaginative and I want my own monster ASAP. A lot is asked of the reader but it never feels like a chore, it feels exciting and fun and delicious. And the fact that there are things left unexplained!! So refreshing.

So why 4 stars? I think my rating has more to do with me personally than anything with the book. I actually had a difficult time absorbing the dysfunction of the family and was pretty - sorry - triggered by several things, especially Margaret’s behavior. About a quarter of the way in I was kind of like ... not looking forward to continuing. I’m so glad I did! But yeah. There is some bone-deep exploration of relationships, and trauma, and depression, and some of the pages just weren’t enjoyable to read, for me.

Ugh, I almost want to delete that ^^^ entire paragraph, because I don’t typically shy away from dark stuff. Do NOT look for criticism in the fact that I was personally - sorry - triggered. It’s not criticism, I swear. But I rate my reading experience and not just the book itself. Just read the content warnings and proceed accordingly.

Anyway, THIS IS EXCELLENT LITERATURE. I SAID IT. LITERATURE. This should be STUDIED. This book is AMAZING. I’ll stop shouting eventually but honestly I’m so excited right now - I feel like a door has opened. And I’m running through it, bye.

A Cosmology of Monsters on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Monster of Elendhaven

43263515._SY475_.jpg

3 stars. A little bit of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, a little bit of Villains by V.E. Schwab. It's a dark and delicious black forest cake with a bitter burst of cherry. It's very cool and very charming and drags you under before you realize what's happening. The worldbuilding is fun but not overwhelming, the pacing is fast but not speedy. And the word choice - my god, awesome premise, but this book is totally great beyond surface-level. 

Elendhaven is essentially a dying city - dirty, gritty, plagued, surrounded by a poisonous sea. While the leading society men dance and flop and flounder, a thing is born, a monster, a pseudo-golem type creature pulled to do his master's bidding. A master determined to seek revenge with blood and black magic, revenge for a painful past and a fatal future for the city. To go into more detail would be super confusing, so I won't. 

Unfortunately, I had a hard time feeling sucked in. It's outstanding - truly - but for whatever reason (my mood, the date, the weather), I wasn't as captivated as I should've been. As far as new and innovative horror goes, though, you can't do better. I really, really, really hope we see more. I loved Johann, I loved his relationship with Florian, and I loved the sheer creative madness of it all. 

“Monster was the best, his favorite word. The first half was a kiss, the second a hiss.”

The Monster of Elendhaven on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Birds and Other Stories

18869985.jpg

5 stars. MIND BLOWN. I'm officially convinced that Daphne du Maurier is my soulmate, spirit animal, favorite authoress, celebrity crush, historical hottie, best friend, sister from another mister, lady of my heart. I am determined to read every word she's written. Her words speak to my soul. 

From a technical standpoint, this story collection demonstrates not only her ability to build tension and dread, but also to write from a wide variety of personalities. Her tone varies based on character / narrator - do you know how rare it is to find an author who can properly write distinct voices? I was super impressed particularly by the transition from "The Little Photographer" to "Kiss Me Again, Stranger." The tone went from a sort of languid lusciousness to clipped and short and it worked in every way. 

Here are my thoughts on each:

"The Birds" - reading this felt like careening down a long, steep dip on a roller coaster, picking up speed, going faster and faster except without any sort of visible destination at the bottom. My heart rate went up. SPECTACULAR ending.

"Monte Verita" - reminded me of an episode of The Twilight Zone, or an old sci-fi film from the 70s, you know, like the ones that MST3K makes fun of? Otherwise, it captures feelings to which I relate immensely - the pure sense of escape when you immerse yourself in nature, the desire to throw everything away and reject society, the dreadful pull of conventional life paths and pursuits. "Often I wish I had the courage to throw my work aside, turn my back on the civilized world and its dubious delights, and go seeking after truth with my two friends. Only convention deterred me, the sense that I was making a successful career for myself, which it would be folly to cut short. The pattern of my life was set. It was too late to change." Also as a whole this story is definitely a metaphor for something. Or, there's a lesson here. I just don't feel like picking at it. 

"The Apple Tree" - clever and funny and scary all at once. What's that you hear? Is it the beating of a hideous heart beneath the floorboards? Nope, just an apple tree to haunt you...

"The Little Photographer" - an absolutely wicked story with a trademark insufferable narrator. Full of lush imagery and delicately gutting quotes like: "A love affair should be a thing of silence, soft, unspoken. No raucous voice, no burst of sudden laughter, but the kind of stealthy curiosity that comes with fear, and when the fear has gone, a brazen confidence. Never the give-and-take between good friends, but passion between strangers..." I'll be thinking about this one for a long time.

"Kiss Me Again, Stranger" - fucking brutal. Just when I thought I'd figured it out, she pulled the rug in a way that left me feeling dumbfounded and disturbed.

"The Old Man" - well, wow. Just wow. Perfect ending to a bright and unusual collection. Extremely fun and profoundly well-written.

I think I'm so consistently shocked by du Maurier because it seems to me like her writing should feel dated or old-fashioned or unrelatable - but it is, for me, actually the complete opposite. Her writing feels fresh and new and personally relevant in a way where many modern authors fail to connect. I felt the same after reading Rebecca and I look forward to seeing where she takes me next. 

The Birds and Other Stories on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein

38255342.jpg

4 stars. Positively delightful! A deliciously dark take on the classic Frankenstein with the right amount of themes and layers - but not too many to weigh down the sheer fun of it all. This book is written from the perspective of Elizabeth Frankenstein, Victor's childhood companion and eventual wife, who plays a twisted and fascinating role in his pursuits - and his successes. The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein is the perfect title for something like this, something unexpected and topsy-turvy and atmospheric. 

This is my first by Kiersten White and I have to say I'm impressed. She peppers the horror and the action with admirable claims about gender, power, relationships, and more. Victor is a classic villain (not a spoiler!) - one we can love to play the game with. He's hateful, of course, but well-written and has a satisfying arc. 

I also loved the tone: this is not historical fiction meant for extensive research or detail, but for thunderstorms and dusty bookstores and ice shacks over lakes. And our heroine wrestles with choice and mistakes and guilt and blindness and ignorance and awareness with astounding maturity and hope. I loved the idea that guilt and blame are distinct and that under certain circumstances, one can technically be blamed but should not feel guilt. 

If I had one complaint, I'd say that the ending - as scrumptious as it was - seemed a bit abrupt! I would've loved to see a bit of a longer conclusion, maybe a post-epilogue epilogue, because I had grown to love the featured characters and wasn't convinced that the end was truly the end (always shoot twice, as they say). Otherwise, an excellent book for reading by the crackling fireplace on a cold, rainy day. 

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Stand

149267.jpg

5 stars. This review took me FORVER to write. I've been writing and re-writing and tinkering for days, which is unusual for me, and I'm afraid this is all still a bit of a mess. The Stand is obviously an impressive masterpiece, and I could leave it at that and call it a day. But as with all of Stephen King's work I do feel the itch to think a bit, to process a bit, to consider the layers of his brilliance as well as (well, here it comes) why this one wasn't a TOTAL home run for me. 

The Stand is about good versus evil. It's about the survivors of a flu-like plague that left the world decimated and destroyed. It's about a paranormal phenomena that follows the apocalypse, and how the survivors come together and try to re-build. It's about what threatens their efforts - a creature with ill-intent who thrives in this brave new world. It's about those who stand up to this threat and fight. It's about fate and free will and battles old as time. It's about love and hate and fear and courage and sacrifice and morality and identity and death and hope and all those other Big Things We Wrestle With As Advanced Thinkers On This Planet. 

I know, I know - why would you read about a virus-driven apocalypse during what feels like quite literally a virus-driven apocalypse? I'm not alone, I'm pretty sure a ton of people are turning to this book for comfort or escapism or some sort of masochistic instinct. For me, the reason was quite simple: it became available at the library. And I honestly wasn't "reminded" of real life as much as I expected. This is a fantastical story with supernatural elements, plus, Stephen King's stories never feel too "real" to me - except this one, when I got to the ending. It wasn't the plague that ending up feeling too real. It was the ending. Humans are so fucking doomed, dude. 

Here's what I absolutely loved:

- A collection of astonishingly well-written moments including: when Frannie tells her mother that she's pregnant (and the confrontation that follows - King's use of the parlor space hit me right in the gut), the introduction of Randall Flagg (the entire chapter is breathtaking), the sequence in the Lincoln Tunnel, that fucking ending!! Stuck the landing! With a boom! 

- The narrative criss-crossing. Sometimes I'm bothered by multiple POV's on such an epic scale, but King really nails it here. Sure, the pacing is a bit odd, and sometimes loose threads get tangled up in knots, but I don't feel as though he asks too much of the reader. Plus, everything comes together in the end. 

- Harold and Glen and Tom Cullen and Lloyd and Larry and the way King explores different types of masculinity. Harold especially is a fascinating character - I genuinely couldn't predict his arc until it was over (rather abruptly). King almost always nails the Big Bad, but he truly shines with the sidekick weasels. 

- The way the “heroes” "win” but return to life changed and damaged and unable to settle for good. It’s one of my favorite things about LOTR, which served as a major point of reference for this book, and I think it’s an important part of why I liked this as well.

Here's what bothered me:

- The writing sometimes FEELS old-fashioned. It was originally written in the 70s, so of course it does. And I've never been bothered by that before. But something about the exclamations ("golly!" "gee!" "wowie!") totally jarred me out of the immersion. 

- The length. I’m obsessed with the fact that everyone else seems to be obsessed with how long this book is! I’ve read arguments that say the length is why it works, and I’ve read arguments that say the length is why it doesn’t. Personally, I could’ve gone for some more editing. Especially in the middle, when things drag a bit and we’re extra focused on … like … the paperwork of rebuilding a society from scratch.

- King's portrayal of women. Mother Abigail shows a glimmer of the progressiveness King demonstrates in his other books, but Frannie cries often, as in, in almost every single one of her scenes (I started clocking halfway through and ... yep ... it's every single scene). While showing emotion like that may be realistic for a pregnant woman existing in an apocalyptic world, it drove me CRAZY. She also slips so easily into the compassionate/maternal role that it felt stereotypical and flat. And Nadine - beautiful, sexual... but just.... what was going on there? 

^^ This right here is partly why I've struggled so much with this review - I can barely articulate why I was annoyed. I just was. Maybe I expected King to shake off the sexism of the 70's when he wrote this, or the sexism in his thematic / tonal references (Westerns, Epics, etc.), maybe I expected more from him. Maybe I expected a greater spectrum of heroes, of personalities. For whatever reason I just found myself rolling my eyes quite a bit. 

Despite that weird quibble, this is obviously a masterpiece. There's something incredibly moving about the thought of doing what's right No Matter What. Even if what's right is difficult - I mean difficult right down through your bones. Even if what's right is likely impossible. But I think the standout theme for me is the fact that we all must reconcile with the consequences of our choices. We must own them and pay for them and live with them - or die by them. And that's about as epic as it gets, eh? 

The Stand on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Monster, She Wrote

44594661.jpg

“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

29069374._SX318_.jpg

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: House of Leaves

337907.jpg

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

13129925.jpg

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