Review: The Reformatory

5 stars. Wow. Stunning, incredible - the hype is real! I'm a big fan of Tananarive Due (not only because I love saying her name... she's a welcome voice on all the Shudder documentaries I love, not to mention a great guest judge on Dragula), but this is my first book by her, and holy crap, I haven't had such a harrowing, awesome reading experience in ages. 

It's 1950, and in the fictional town of Gracetown, FL, 12-year-old Robbie Stephens Jr. is sentenced to 6 months at the nearby Reformatory, a "correctional school" for boys that is really just a prison. The sentence for his "crime" - defending his older sister, Gloria, from the advances of a wealthy white neighbor - is complicated by the fact that his father has left town to avoid a false and racially-motivated accusation.

The book alternates between Robbie and Gloria's perspectives as they try to navigate a world that is immediately, socially, politically, and personally, against them. Robbie must avoid the brutal punishment of the school's Warden, though his ability to see "haints" (ghosts haunting the school) quickly draws attention. And Gloria won't give up on her brother, forging ahead down every avenue - sometimes carving her own - to bring him home. 

For a book that takes place over the course of what, 1 week? Maybe 2? A lot happens. My summary barely scratches the surface of the many narrative layers, and doesn't touch on the many major and minor characters who orbit these fierce children's doomed situation. We as readers end up fully immersed in the terribleness of it all, but the long book is worth it. It's a real testament to Due's writing, which depicts the worst-of-the-worst-of-the-worst, that I couldn't wait to return to this setting.

I'm tired of hearing "horror is political" as a hot take, because horror has always been political. It is true that many authors lean on the pedal too hard, and their well-intentioned stories become preachy, sanctimonious, self-aggrandizing lessons for readers who will chafe against that sort of thing. Due lets this story, which is fictionalized but based in truth, speak for itself. I can't even begin to fathom or understand how challenging this must have been to research, and then write.

Beyond the subject matter, Due's writing really works, from both a historical fiction angle and a horror angle. She lovingly, beautifully marries the two. It is long, but well-paced, and includes some of the tensest sequences I've read all year. She writes children well, and monsters - all of her POVs are successful, I think - and recognizes where to incorporate complexity, sensitivity, and hope. The setting itself is also a character, and from a sentence-level the book is full of quotes that will choke you. In a good, powerful way. 

BookTok has made kind of a joke of reacting to books. "This will destroy you..."; selfies of readers crying, etc. The emotional reaction I had to this book is far from funny or cute or worth posting for clout, though it does feel profoundly meaningful. This book will strip away your defenses, crawl under your skin, and motivate you to do better - especially as we head into the scariest election of my life. It is horror at its absolute best. I will recommend it far and wide.

The Reformatory on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Black River Orchard

5 stars. In the small town of Harrow, PA, a new type of apple, grown and sold by local Dan Paxson, becomes intensely popular. Everyone who tastes it - has just one bite - becomes obsessed, not just with the apple, but with the way it makes them feel (better, stronger, powerful). But it also makes people sharper, meaner, more ruthless - especially towards those who refuse to eat the apples themselves. The fight for Harrow (or battle, maybe) escalates when it becomes clear that the apples are addictive, and vindictive, and in control - and the orchard trees have a bigger plan in mind: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!

Weird, playful, and incredibly well-written, this book is a home run for spooky season. It's a small town-encounters-giant evil sort of story, and it goes hard. We have a large cast of characters, double prologues and multiple interludes, flashbacks, a very long build-up and a very long climax, high stakes, absolutely disgusting imagery, and a badass ending. We have a grizzled veteran who teams up with a messy lesbian, and they eventually team up with a smart teenager and a kinky resident... which is all super delightful. We also have apple monsters.

I think it's really cool that a sexually progressive couple is depicted so positively, and so prominently - central to this story. Their preferences and behaviors furthered the story along, triggered narrative movement and fit nicely into the idea that the apples encourage folks to wield their prejudice and hatred. These folks are not kinky for the sake of being kinky: it's not box-check-y, or too preachy. Wendig never shies away from representation and I admire that.

One other thing: the Wendig of it all. I've written about Wacky Wending, and Wise Wendig, before; I went in with eyes wide open. There's something really undoubtedly refreshing about the way he makes it feel like this world - fantastical elements and all. He certainly has his viewpoints (which I share) and the book isn't commentary-free, and it was kind of nice to see some real, familiar, honest anxieties and depictions of our society reflected back. Social media is part of the story and referenced heavily; not only do the young characters use accurate(ish) slang, they behave and converse in ways teens do. Writing young people is hard, and he's okay at it.

Chuck Wendig has gotten close to feeling like Stephen King before, and he's closer still with this one. It takes real talent to put a story like this together. I was totally charmed, totally engrossed, totally invested and totally confused about how he pulled off the ridiculous premise - one that only increased in ridiculousness - in such a compelling way. I'm in the midst of a move and late stage pregnancy, and I couldn't fucking wait to get back to it. I'm bummed it's over. I would love a sequel, or a spin-off. Or maybe an adaptation, if anyone dares. 

Black River Orchard on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Rules of the Road

5 stars. OF COURSE, after a long reading slump, I went into this with low expectations, thinking it would be a solid 3 star read at best. OF COURSE it would be this one to snap me out of it, a debut with a long list of mediocre reviews from readers who didn't even finish it AND a kind of gimmicky premise. I just really enjoyed it. I found it to be fun and funny and mean and nasty in all the right ways. 

It's late at night, you're on the road. You've been on the road for awhile, with nothing but headlights to guide you. Maybe you're in the middle of nowhere. Maybe you're getting sleepy, so you turn on the radio. Maybe, instead of Top 40 or Classic Rock, you hear the voice of a DJ, a voice that seems to suck you in. Maybe he drops some specific details, and seems to know a little too much about you. As you listen, he preaches to you a rule: a rule of the road. Hopefully, you listen. Maybe, you don't. 

The book is presented as a collection of stories submitted by folks who have supposedly heard versions of this special, spooky broadcast. Each individual hears a different rule, and acts accordingly - sometimes in compliance, sometimes with defiance. Either way, each of them faces consequences beyond belief. Why are some people punished, others spared, others forced into loss or terrible tragedy? What's the system? Who is the DJ? Where are the answers?

It's addicting, this one. The writing flows and the fast pace really keeps you engaged. The stories are - as many reviewers have pointed out - a little repetitive, but I didn't mind at all, and they were ultimately very distinct - distinct enough to keep me guessing. It's also not just premise, or gimmick. There are some super dark, meaty themes here - really it's partly a book about America, just as it's partly a book about music, and partly a book about love, and partly a book about death. The quest to find the meaning of life is certainly not a new one, nor is a bleak resolution to the quest. But the author here infuses enough heart and soul and warm creativity that you sense some deep, meaningful shit between these pages. I would like to read it again.

Of course I loved the superficial surface-level stuff too. The tropes, the monsters, the cosmic lore, the cheesy moments. The twists! So many fun twists. The clever details. I just really loved it, and would've been happy to sink my teeth into a few more episodes/stories. Adapt this immediately as a podcast or an anthology film! I've used the word "fun" like 50 times but I'd use it again! Loved it.

The Rules of the Road on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Eaters of the Dead

5 stars. I read this and loved it in college, but it was so, so, so great to revisit it after leaning into my Viking interests over the last few years. The things I didn't recognize then I can place and frame contextually/historically now, which added a whole layer of stunning genius I couldn't pick up on before. Michael Crichton isn't a perfect author, and some of his older stuff especially leans a tad problematic, but this one is really, really, so, so good. 

It's about Ibn Fadlan, an Arab ambassador who winds up accompanying a group of Northmen (Vikings) on an epic quest to rid their land of a terrifying evil. The narrative is told in the form of a sort of anthropological manuscript; Ibn Fadlan's observations about the Vikings and their culture, based on his truly immersive experiences. He is critical, curious, and very sharp, and breathes new life into a tale that's so well known and widely studied.

I have to say that it was super refreshing, after dealing with a bit of a reading slump recently, to read such a well-plotted, well-paced, well-written story. It's based on, of course, the OG story, so we've had thousands of years to edit and carve out the best, juiciest narrative. Still - this is a brilliant version. Great for regular readers of horror, fantasy, even historical fiction; great for fans of Vikings, epics, and monsters. 

Eaters of the Dead on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Horror Movie

5 stars. I've had a few days to chew on this, and I'm not sure if five stars is the right move, but I really can't ignore a few facts: 1) it's the first book to really compel me in a while. I could not put it down. 2) When I finished it, all I wanted to do was turn back to the beginning and start all over again. And also to purchase a copy immediately. 3) It's a lot of things I really love, admire, and look for in horror: found footage-esq, incredibly meta, a borderline psycological study of the genre (and its fans), and reminiscent of one of my favorite authors, SGJ. 

This is my fifth Tremblay. I feel like he's a uniquely controversial author: a lot of readers out there find him to be hit-or-miss, and also, a lot of his books are both adored and hated. People really disagree about his work. In reading the reactions to this book in particular, it seems like many readers took issue with the ambiguity? But also, hated everything else he wrote and for some reason decided to read this anyway? And in some cases, literally didn't even understand the narrative? (Guys: he didn't get his pinky cut off twice. He's an unreliable narrator. He leaned into the lore. It's twisted.)

So, since we all apparently love to talk about it, here's how my scorecard looks: loved A Head Full of Ghosts. Was really shocked and impressed by the audacity of The Cabin at the End of the World. Enjoyed the really zippy, straightforward horror of Survivor Song. Found the writing - the figurative writing - to be incredibly immature in Disappearance at Devil's Rock. I know now to expect ambiguity, maybe an experimental format, some genuinely creepy moments, and a great premise. IMO, Tremblay delivered successfully here on all of those levels.

There's a lot to be said about art, and the making of it. It's probably worth noting the type of art we're talking about here: deep, dark, disturbing horror designed with, and designed to inspire, obsession. The story is about this, and also tries to be this. As someone who has always been far more interested in the analysis of creation than creation itself, yeah, this is right up my alley. So please go in knowing it's not just a "cursed film" trope story - it's got a bit more philosophy woven into the fabric.

Let's get into specifics: Horror Movie is about the making of a low-budget horror film in the 90s, the minds that went into it, its pseudo-release into the world, and the cult following it attracted. It contains the written recollections of the only surviving crew member, The Thin Kid, along with excerpts from the "original" script. We as readers are escorted through the origins of The Thin Kid's participation, the production, the aftermath, and finally the inevitable reboot. 

Rather than trying to defend this book with like, arguments (you can never actually win anything on the internet), I think it might be better to just make a couple of points about what this book is not: as mentioned, it's not a traditional cursed film book. It is not written in a traditional format. It does not give clear answers upfront, throughout, or at the end [some people took issue with Tremblay dropping hints?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Guys, what?!?!?!? Authors drop hints all the time without full context - roll with it, live with it?!?!?!]. It is not even that scary, at the end of the day. 

If it's not for you, great. But I really enjoyed it. If you want to pick it apart with me, even better. But if you want to hate for the sake of hating... smh. Don't be the guy at the convention who demanded to see his finger. Don't be that guy.

Horror Movie on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

Programming note: I took a little forced hiatus from reading due to some major life and health reasons, which really, really impacted my reading habits. More soon, when I can stomach it. Feeling rusty but let's get to it.

5 stars. In this beloved 1967 children's story/urban fairy tale, Claudia Kincaid and her younger brother Jamie run away and settle in at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Resourceful and delighted by their freedom, they quickly find ways to stay clean, fed, and "educated," for the most part. And even better - helpful, to the Met, as they try to help prove that its latest acquisition is actually a piece of work by Michaelangelo. 

Can you imagine this story had it been written today? In modern times? There's no way - it's an interesting thought exercise that only leads to depressing outcomes. Despite feeling very classic, and more classic every time I read it, many of the lessons and feelings it evokes still resonate. It's funny, too, looking back on this and wondering if it even partially inspired an interest in art history and museums. I didn't even know how to pronounce Michaelangelo when I read it the first time, but maybe it sparked something that still burns decades later.

It's really nice to see the kids' competence and intelligence on full display. They each have slightly different approaches to problem-solving, but they do fit together nicely. They are so witty, and smart, and capable, and driven by wonderfully relatable motives. I know this isn't considered a perfect piece of writing - complaints about the narrator's role, for example, and the plot structure - but I didn't spend a single minute considering any of that while reading. I was way too entertained.

Looking for more of this energy in 2024.

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Love, Pamela

5 stars. I admire Pamela Anderson a lot. I grew up in the 90s, so I know her as an icon - perhaps one of the biggest icons - on an international level, from a pop culture perspective... in a way that helps me navigate being female in this world. She almost, in fact, defines the word "icon," like Marilyn maybe does. She's incredible. Incredibly intelligent, witty, passionate, well-read, caring, kind, special, hilarious, and yes, beautiful. She has earned every bit of peace allowed for her - she has earned the choice, the options, and the right to decide for herself how, and where, she is seen and heard. 

So, yes, I'm a fan. After watching the Netflix documentary for the first time, I started it over again, because (I'm aware how cheesy and stupid and uncharacteristic this sounds) I wanted to spend more time with her. I inhaled Pam & Tommy, feeling icky and amazed and compliant and compelled all at once. This means that I went into this book with some awareness, and some context, around what to expect. And the experience of reading it turned out to be deeply transporting - fun and funny and heartbreaking and full of wisdom and wonderful quotes. 

"But, I argued, I am who I am, which is a combination of all I know, and I've always believed that striving to be a sensual person, or being sexy, should not conflict with intelligence. Women have fought hard so that we do not need to limit ourselves. And this confirmed for me that I had to use all I had even more to get attention for what was right. If the cartoon image of me was what got me through the door, so be it. And so I continued the work the only way I knew how. It was too late to turn back now, I thought - it would take time and effort to try to change people's opinion of me."

From her scrappy childhood to parties at Playboy to animal advocacy in Russia to wandering the streets of France to a stage on Broadway, Love, Pamela documents Anderson's life in her own words. She references books and art and influential figures, muses about philosophy and culture, honors those who have helped her, and those who have hurt her. She is charming and concise, with a bit of an unconventional style that in no way impedes a smooth, lovely flow.

"When
you have nothing to live up to--
you can't disappoint--"

If you've seen the documentary, there may be little to surprise here, but it's still an absolute joy to relish in Pamela's presence. We have a lot to learn from her, and maybe also from the mistakes we made in looking at her; perceiving her; dismissing her; limiting her; selling her; exploiting her; trying to define her. She's really something, and I'm happy for what she's found, and for where she is now. And wherever she goes from here, I have a feeling she'll conquer, heart first.

Lobe, Pamela on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Silent Companions

You know what? 5 stars. I was pretty much dead set on 4 until I reached the ending, which left me a little bit breathless and extremely satisfied. I'm very excited to read more by this author, who put together a really beautiful Gothic story here, employing a lot of fun and familiar tropes while managing to keep things fairly unpredictable. AND - I don't have to dock a star for a UDD - in this case - UCD! Small blessings.

There are two narratives here - well, almost three. In 1865, newly married Elsie Bainbridge must travel to her husband's isolated rural estate outside of London when he passes away unexpectedly. She is accompanied by her late husband's cousin, Sarah, and is met by an unwelcoming town and an unpleasant household staff. Even worse - the house itself is troublesome, and Elsie begins hearing things and seeing things that seem impossible. You know the drill.

Meanwhile, we are supplied with the journal of an ancestor, who lived on the estate in 1635. She and her husband are overjoyed to receive a royal visit, until things go horribly wrong - revealing an evil that may or may not be connected to Elsie's experiences over two hundred years later.

Yes, this does seem a bit like the same-old haunted house story... but it really does take some delightful twists and turns. Scarier than The Little Stranger I'd say, but in a good way. The writing is super lively, the plot is very well-crafted/well-paced, the ending is brutal, and the setting is perfectly spooky. The characters are pretty unlikeable, especially at first, but everything comes across as intentional. I am a little frustrated by some of the loose ends - I need more lore! And I could use a sequel! - but I was truly transported and enjoyed myself.

I will say too - at first, I found Hetta's ... instruments, shall we say ... extremely cheesy and not scary at all. Maybe a little gimmicky? Despite some fantastic imagery and vivid descriptions of their appearances and expressions, I think I just had some trouble crossing the bridge into fear. I kept getting caught up in the physics of it all - picturing them... glide across the floor or whatever. Also, where the F did they come from in the first place? A mysterious, disappearing shop out of nowhere on top of everything else?! So much going on.

Overall, though - an instant horror classic. Must be read in front of a crackling fire during a blizzard, wind howling against the windows.

The Silent Companions on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: North Woods

5 stars. Lives up to the hype, I fear. Of course, this checks a lot of personal boxes for me: woods, ghosts, art, landscape, the way history sits on top of itself... deep but palatable character studies. I went in with a skeptical eye (I'm sure there are a ton of things any reader could pick apart and criticize, as with all books-of-the-moment), but truthfully, I couldn't put it down. It's immersive and very well-written and satisfying. Also, it's very horny. You'll know what I mean when you read it.

There's that word coined a few years ago that went viral: sonder. The realization - or sensation - that everyone, including (especially) strangers around you, has a life and consciousness as complex and rich and layered as yours. North Woods takes this and applies it to the history of a house and the sequence of its inhabitants, starting with a young Puritan couple and making its way to modern times. It is a love letter to the woods, the specific nature of New England, the land, time, fate, history, and humanity - with all our fights and faults and feelings and connections and errors. It did make me think about the very full, complex, rich lives lived by the previous owners of my home and what they might think of mine.

I'm a bit at a loss as to what further commentary I can offer: I think it's one of those books you just have to read. That being said, I'd be overjoyed to read the critical commentary of others. This is a very full book, and I'd love to take a class on it. I respectfully request a supplemental reading list, a playlist, and a comprehensive list of all the connections and clever throwbacks. I'm happy to own it - it's the type of book I'll want to revisit, and annotate, and breathe in.

North Woods on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: All the Sinners Bleed

5 stars. Damn. This book is incredible. Cosby is back with a nail-biting, stomach-churning, electric thriller that will undoubtedly burrow under your skin and make a home there. 

I mentioned this in my review of Razorblade Tears, but as a Virginian born-and-raised, it's odd - rare, even - to get to take in such an accurate portrait of my state; all of its pockets and contradictions and extremes and microsocieties rendered without the inevitable attempt to balance the scales. Virginia granted me many things - a secure childhood, breathtakingly beautiful surroundings, four wonderful seasons, the best college experience anyone could hope for - but that shouldn't count towards forgiveness of any of its stubborn atrocities. Virginia is what it is. Many things can be true at once. I hope it gets better. I appreciate Cosby's frankness around this.

But I digress. This book is thought-provoking like that. It’s about a Black sheriff in a small town doing the best he can despite rural resources and rising racial tensions. After a horrifying school shooting, he is catapulted into a crazy investigation that only aggravates the town's passionate residents. On the hunt for a serial killer, the sheriff ends up racing against the clock to catch a serial killer and save the town he loves. A town that often, on many days, maybe even on most days, does not love him back.

Titus - the sheriff, with a great name - is a terrific character. The way Cosby weaves in his personal and professional relationships is truly impressive. Again he tackles so much: racism, masculinity, trauma, change, family, love, tradition, fear. Grief:

"That he went about these tasks so adroitly after staring into the depths of the abyss that was what passed for the souls of those three sociopaths made him feel unclean. He knew better than most that the wheel of life would keep spinning, with little regard to the families who had lost their children or the children who had lost their lives. Waiting for the world to shed tears for your pain was like waiting for a statue to speak. So you filed the reports, you answered the emails. You carried on as best you could."

He isn't heavy-handed. It's just... true. And this time he does it through a religious lens, which is truly fascinating and creates an enormously compelling mystery. It isn't perfect. There's clumsy dialogue, loose ends, a bit of a rushed ending, and some disruptive exposition. But whatever points it may have lost for that it earned right back when it got my heart pounding - racing - on the train. 

Cosby has become a must read for me, and I'm glad many others feel the same. His success is well-deserved.

All the Sinners Bleed on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads