There’s nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you’ll poke that bear ‘til her claws come o
There’s nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you’ll poke that bear ‘til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around And there’s nothing like a mad woman - Taylor Swift, mad woman
Was it possible he understood why a woman would do this? That she was no madwoman at all, but a Mad Woman, a for-years-and-years abused woman? - Chelsea Bieker, Madwoman
Mothers and daughters and the devastating, resonating effects of abuse and trauma are at the center of Chelsea Bieker’s new novel, Madwoman. And it is, simply put, a masterpiece.
After a childhood and adolescence filled with violence and dysfunction, Clove is determined to make a life completely different from the way she was raised. She lives in a lovely home with her mild, kind husband and two young children; she meditates and does yoga and takes supplements and drinks green smoothies and posts photos of it all (no faces) for her 10,000 Instagram followers. But when she receives a letter from a women’s prison, her carefully constructed façade begins to crack, leaving Clove to reckon with a past that won’t stay buried.
In an emotionally resonant, evocative, unflinchingly intimate narrative that almost reads as autobiographical, Bieker takes us back in time from Clove’s peaceful life in Portland, Oregon, to her fraught youth in Waikiki, Hawai’i. The layers of Clove’s past are peeled back slowly, in horrifying detail, while we simultaneously watch her self-destruct in the present day. Clove is not necessarily a likeable character, but Bieker has written her so intricately that it’s easy to understand why she makes the choices she does. Readers should be aware that this book deals, overtly and on the page, with domestic violence: the act itself as well as its long shadow. Certain passages are incredibly difficult to read because Bieker writes with so much emotion and urgency: You can feel the rage, the desperation, and the fear so palpably.
Madwoman is being classified as a mystery/thriller, but it didn’t read to me like either of those genres. Instead, it’s a deeply psychological and suspenseful literary character study about motherhood, grief, and the complicated process of healing from trauma. It does have some twists, which are easily predicted – and the more I think about it, the more I think that Bieker wanted the reader to predict them. Because we see what Clove doesn’t, it further illustrates the effects of the trauma that she endured for so long, turning her so far inward that she isn’t aware of what’s happening around her, what should be obvious.
Madwoman shines a spotlight on the ugliest, most devastating aspects of domestic violence, in a narrative that is as enthralling as it is upsetting. It’s profound and affecting and raw, cementing Bieker’s status as one of our most dynamic contemporary writers. Thank you to Little, Brown and Company for the early reading opportunity. ...more
To love and be loved was more than could ever be expected, more than enough for a thousand ordinary lifetimes.
All the Colors of the Dark is an amb
To love and be loved was more than could ever be expected, more than enough for a thousand ordinary lifetimes.
All the Colors of the Dark is an ambitious, sprawling novel that is at once a family drama, a love story, a police procedural, and a complex, coming-of-age character study. The plot is too intricate to sum up in a few sentences, so I won’t even try. But rest assured that this is one of those immensely satisfying novels that you can just sit back and let wash over you, appreciating the layers of the story as they unfold and immersing yourself in all the nuances of the plot and the characters.
Chris Whittaker has a special way of writing that reminds me a lot of Cormac McCarthy: a simplistic style that still says so much, that evokes rich emotion and deep meaning that goes beyond the actual words on the page. For me, his writing does sometimes cross the line from “poignant” to “overwrought,” but it’s undeniably affecting nonetheless. He evokes a strong sense of place and time as he weaves the threads of a tale about friendship and love, fate and faith and found family, as he explores the long-lasting effects of trauma and how it can both forge and break bonds.
All the Colors of the Dark is a character study more than anything else, and Whittaker definitely knows how to write characters that are complex, flawed, and authentic. These characters, especially Patch and Saint, got under my skin in the way all the best characters do. Their journeys, together and separately, are full of tragedy and beauty, heartbreak and redemption – with lots of unexpected and emotional surprises along the way.
I do think there were sections of the narrative that could have been tightened up a bit, but I still enjoyed every word of All the Colors of the Dark. I’m certain that future scholars will consider Chris Whittaker to be one of this generation’s Great American Writers – and I’ll read every word he writes. ...more
...becoming who you want to be is just like anything else. It takes practice. It requires belief that one day, you'll wake up and be a natural at i
...becoming who you want to be is just like anything else. It takes practice. It requires belief that one day, you'll wake up and be a natural at it.
Every once in a while, I read a book that so perfectly captures what it means to be human -- the vulnerability, the messiness, the mistakes and contradictions, the joys and heartbreaks, the moments you get it all so right and so spectacularly wrong -- that it takes my breath away. The Wedding People was one of those books for me.
Phoebe thought she'd be visiting the Cornwall Inn in Rhode Island with her husband, but, well, things didn't work out that way. Instead she arrives by herself, in a fancy green dress with no luggage. She plans to spend one night at the Cornwall -- and has no plans for her life after that. When she checks in, she realizes she's the only guest at the hotel who isn't there for a week-long wedding celebration. Phoebe is determined to stay away from the wedding people...but a chance encounter with the bride changes everything.
Alison Espach accomplishes quite the balancing act with The Wedding People. The book deals overtly with suicidal ideation and depression; many characters struggle with dark thoughts and bleak feelings, and the narrative doesn't shy away from any of that. But at the same time, it's one of the most life-affirming novels I've ever read. I don't think I would call it "heartwarming," which implies a purity that I don't think it has. It's irreverent and wry, unflinchingly honest and so incredibly genuine. The character development is phenomenal, and so is the dialogue; there are lots of conversations in this book, and they felt so authentic.
I love how Espach explores the idea that a random encounter with a stranger can prompt genuine connection, how we can sometimes be more vulnerable with strangers than with our loved ones, because who cares what a stranger thinks of us, right? Espach answers that question in The Wedding People, when the strangers Phoebe encounters become so much more than that, when the truths that are shared become the building blocks for real relationships.
I listened to the audiobook read by Helen Laser, who did a phenomenal job of bringing the characters to life. The Wedding People is so smart and hopeful, and is a book I'll be recommending and gifting to all the readers I know. Thank you to Henry Holt and Co. and Macmillan Audio for the complimentary reading opportunity....more
All books are magic. An object that can take you to another world without even leaving your room? A story written by a stranger and yet it seems th
All books are magic. An object that can take you to another world without even leaving your room? A story written by a stranger and yet it seems they wrote it just for you or to you? Loving and hating people made out of ink and paper, not flesh and blood? Yes, books are magic. Maybe even the strongest magic there is.
4.5 stars. Fifteen years ago, two teenage boys got lost in a West Virginia forest. Six months later they returned, unharmed, unable to explain where they'd been. Now, one of those boys has made a name for himself through finding missing people, and the other is an artist who lives as a recluse in the mountains, with only a garden full of fantastical sculptures as company. They're brought together again by a young woman searching for her missing sister, who helps them realize that, maybe, the only way to move forward is by going back.
Whimsical and magical, The Lost Story is the very definition of a fairy tale for grown-ups. Meg Shaffer is such an incredible storyteller, with an ability to weave words and worlds that puts her right up there with some of the best fantasy writers. For me, her books bring back the nostalgic feeling of being transported to a make-believe world for the first time: going through the wardrobe to Narnia, taking the train to Hogwarts, waking up in Oz. In The Lost Story, she transports us to another place...but that's all I'll say, because you should discover the magic for yourself.
At the same time that The Lost Story feels like a fairy tale in its execution, it also deals with contemporary themes like overcoming trauma and complicated family dynamics and doesn't shy away from difficult topics. But mostly, this is a story about love and acceptance, and it was a pure joy to experience. I'm so excited to watch Meg Shaffer's writing career unfold -- and I hope we haven't seen the last of these characters or this world. Thank you to Ballantine Books for the early reading opportunity. ...more
The whole universe lines itself up to make a family, and the family takes it from there.
Long Island Compromise begins, propulsively, with the kidn
The whole universe lines itself up to make a family, and the family takes it from there.
Long Island Compromise begins, propulsively, with the kidnapping of Carl Fletcher from his driveway in March of 1980. Despite being returned to his family a week later, Carl is forever altered by the experience -- and so are the people that love him most. Taffy Brodesser-Akner's sprawling Jewish-American family saga explores the myriad ways the Fletcher family never got over the kidnapping of their patriarch.
Not everyone is going to enjoy Long Island Compromise, and I can totally understand why. This is an in-your-face, unsubtle, explicit book about wealthy, unlikable characters complaining about the fact that they are wealthy, engaging in a variety of self-sabotage methods, and refusing to acknowledge their trauma. But because Brodesser-Akner is a hugely talented writer, and because I'm all about an in-depth character study, I was absolutely captivated by the stories of their lives. These characters, unlikable though they may be on the surface, are rendered with such authenticity and vulnerability that I felt for them deeply, even as I was horrified by their actions.
Long Island Compromise made me cringe, laugh, and cry -- sometimes all in the same paragraph. It's a compelling, complex story about the corruption and comfort of inherited wealth, the harsh realities of inherited trauma, and all the ways families heal and destroy each other -- set against the backdrop of a predominantly Jewish Long Island town that almost becomes a character in and of itself. Reading Long Island Compromise wasn't always a pleasant experience, but it was a rewarding one, and by the end I found myself truly affected by it. Thank you to Random House for the complimentary reading opportunity. ...more
"There’s a reason the word ‘haunting’ is rarely used in a positive way. To never be free of someone, well, that’s not always a comfort."
In My Darl
"There’s a reason the word ‘haunting’ is rarely used in a positive way. To never be free of someone, well, that’s not always a comfort."
In My Darling Dreadful Thing, debut author Johanna van Veen draws on the tropes of Gothic fiction, resulting in a novel that feels entirely original while also paying homage to classics of the genre. At once a horror story and a love story, it’s unlike anything I’ve read before.
Roos Beckman is a young woman with an extraordinary gift: She can talk to spirits. Well, a spirit, anyway: that of her best friend and spirit companion, Ruth. Both Roos and Ruth are exploited by Roos’s mother, who forces them to perform for strangers during backroom séances. But then one of those strangers, a young widow named Agnes Knoop, offers Ruth the opportunity to come live with her on her crumbling estate, Rozentuin. As Roos and Agnes grow closer, it becomes increasingly difficult to deny the attraction between them…or to avoid the tragedy that awaits them – because months later, Roos is accused of murder.
Set in The Netherlands in the years after World War II, My Darling Dreadful Thing is narrated by Roos in the first person as she tells her story to a psychologist tasked with determining if she is fit to stand trial. This structure works well, giving the book a propulsive quality as Roos’s story unfolds. We know, from snippets of transcripts from Roos’s sessions with the psychologist, that something very bad happens at Rozentuin – we just don’t know exactly what it is. The pacing is deliberate, and the book doesn’t give up its secrets too early, instead revealing them at perfect moments in the narrative.
As with all the best Gothic novels, van Veen’s writing is dark and descriptive, full of macabre imagery, laced with melancholy and dread as she weaves a story that is both gorgeous and gruesome – a story about love, life and death, dysfunctional relationships and abuse, prejudice, and female autonomy that is just as affecting as it is unsettling. Roos is a sympathetic protagonist: naïve, tentative, but with strength and determination at her core. Her relationship with Ruth is fascinating, complex and almost heartbreakingly tender.
Modern in its themes but classically Gothic in its execution, My Darling Dreadful Thing is an inventive and impressive debut that has me eager to read whatever Johanna van Veen writes next. ...more
When lo, a vision came unto me. And that vision was of Ric Flair, his tan old-man skin gleaming with oil, his peroxide-blond shoulder-length shag s
When lo, a vision came unto me. And that vision was of Ric Flair, his tan old-man skin gleaming with oil, his peroxide-blond shoulder-length shag shimmering...And in this vision, the Nature Boy appeared before me in his glittering bejeweled robes, lit by a neon glow, and said unto me: "Margo. To be the man, WOOOO, you gotta beat the man!"
You wouldn't think a book featuring OnlyFans and professional wrestling as major plot points would be so moving and insightful -- but Margo's Got Money Troubles is all of that and more.
The eponymous Margo gets pregnant at nineteen after a brief affair with her English professor at the junior college she attends. Now, at twenty, Margo is unemployed,a college drop-out, and the single mother of an infant -- which is naturally the perfect time for her estranged father Jinx, a former professional wrestler, to show up on her doorstep needing a place to stay. Needing money fast, Margo decides to start an OnlyFans account as an experiment -- and with Jinx's help, she crafts a persona and perspective that the internet can't get enough of. But Margo's success has unintended consequences, and her fame comes at a price she's not sure she can pay.
On one hand, Margo's Got Money Troubles is a wildly funny, satirical romp through the bizarre world of online sex work. On the other, it's a breathtakingly tender and wise coming-of-age story that perfectly captures the essence of new motherhood, the naïveté of early adulthood, and the complexities of family relationships. There's also lots of brilliantly-integrated social commentary about sex work in the digital age and society's tendency to judge women for how they earn a living and the choices they make about their own bodies. The characters are messy and quirky and endearing, and having the narrative toggle between first and third person was a brilliant choice by Rufi Thorpe, allowing Margo to reflect on this time in her life from an older, wiser place.
In short, there is nothing about Margo's Got Money Troubles I didn't love. It's offbeat and charming and surprisingly perceptive, and I know it's going to be one of my top reads of the year. Thank you to William Morrow for the early reading opportunity....more
A photograph doesn’t feel how life feels, it turns out, no matter how hard I tried. There’s nothing in living that gets caught like that and doesn’
A photograph doesn’t feel how life feels, it turns out, no matter how hard I tried. There’s nothing in living that gets caught like that and doesn’t change, that becomes a place to come back to, again and again, and that hurts, forever. Though there may be something in dying that’s like that. It’s freaky what we do with cameras, if you really think about it. A kind of loving murder.
Housemates is, on the surface, a road trip novel in which Bernie (a photographer) and Leah (a writer) set out to document life in rural Pennsylvania. But it’s so much more than that. This is a celebratory book, a novel that celebrates art (both the act of creating it and the act of absorbing it), friendship, queerness, and what it means to be alive (and finding joy in being alive) during a politically and socially fraught time in American history. It reads like a love letter: to Pennsylvania, to youth, to the human body, to falling in love – with yourself, with someone else, and with life itself. It’s about being messy and imperfect and helpful and hurtful – about how it feels to be seen and understood, and how it feels to be misunderstood. It’s a truly special book.
Emma Copley Eisenberg has created such incredible characters in Bernie and Leah, who are written with so much texture and tenderness that you can feel Eisenberg’s love for them emanating from the page. Their desires and insecurities, their regrets and their secrets, are so deeply felt in the narrative. They are complex and flawed and real. The people they interact with on their road trip are fascinating, subverting expectations at every opportunity as Eisenberg delves into the soul of Pennsylvania, a place she describes as having “two hearts.” Through Bernie’s mentor, a photographer and professor accused of inappropriate conduct with his female students, Eisenberg raises thoughtful questions surrounding whether or not an artist can ever truly be separated from their art.
But what’s truly wondrous about Housemates is Eisenberg’s lively, richly-detailed writing, which immersed me completely in the world of the novel. Her descriptions of Bernie’s photographs are vivid and evocative and created such a clear, striking picture in my mind. Surely it couldn’t have been an easy task to write a book about a visual art form – but Eisenberg totally nailed it. I don’t know if I’ve ever read writing quite like hers, and I can’t wait to read whatever she writes next.
4.5 stars instead of 5, only because I’m not certain the narrator's POV, while certainly interesting, was necessary, and the ending felt a bit flat compared to the rest of the book. Otherwise, Housemates was a near-flawless, unforgettable reading experience. Thank you to Hogarth for the early reading opportunity. ...more
She’s been coming out of the closet a lot more lately. She walks over to me now. Sometimes it’s like she floats. She sits on the bed too. Slowly. Nex
She’s been coming out of the closet a lot more lately. She walks over to me now. Sometimes it’s like she floats. She sits on the bed too. Slowly. Next to me. And she asks: Can I go into your heart?
I finished reading Incidents Around the House a week ago, and I’m still reeling from the reading experience. Josh Malerman is a favorite author of mine, but he’s outdone himself with this one. Incidents Around the House is one of the scariest books I’ve ever read. Ever.
A lot of that is down to the way the story is told, which is nothing short of genius on Malerman’s part. The book is narrated by eight-year-old Bela, who lives with her Mommy and Daddo, and who has recently made another friend she calls Other Mommy. Other Mommy lives in her closet and comes out at night to play with her. But lately, Other Mommy is starting to come out at all hours of the day, and to follow Bela places, and to ask insistently if she can come into Bela’s heart. When Other Mommy is spotted by one of Mommy and Daddo’s friends, Bela’s parents are forced to confront that a malevolent entity has attached itself to their daughter. But it’s not just Bela that is haunted…
There’s something so viscerally horrifying about reading an innocent child’s perspective on terrifying events, relayed casually and matter-of-factly in straightforward, simplistic prose. I can’t imagine it’s easy to write from a child’s point of view, but Malerman completely nails Bela’s voice. Her observations are age-appropriate, and yet through her, Malerman also manages to convey the more complex, nuanced emotions of the adults around her. Through Bela’s eyes, we are witness not only to the way she is being manipulated by other Mommy – but also to the very grown-up struggles of her parents, whose marriage is on the verge of falling apart. Part of me wonders if the idea for this book came when Malerman was writing “Half the House is Haunted,” a novella from Spin a Black Yarn that is partially written from a child’s point of view. In any case, his portrayal of a complicated family dynamic and of a frightening, traumatic haunting are masterfully conveyed through Bela’s eyes.
Incidents Around the House is Malerman writing at the top of his game: a chilling, complex, wholly unique tale of terror that is also emotionally rich and heartbreaking. I would have binge-read it in one sitting, but I couldn’t bring myself to read it in bed at night. I have a closet, after all, and it was all too easy to imagine Other Mommy in there, wanting to play….wanting to come into my heart. Thank you to Del Ray for the early reading opportunity and for the nights of restless sleep since I read this book....more
Of course it is easier to love someone good than it is to love someone bad. But most of the time, we don't get to choose.
While clearly inspired by
Of course it is easier to love someone good than it is to love someone bad. But most of the time, we don't get to choose.
While clearly inspired by the real Slender Man stabbing, Monsters We Have Made is not a sensationalistic, salacious recounting of a violent crime committed in the name of an urban legend. It is, instead, a thoughtful, observant, and heartbreaking examination of motherhood, sacrifice, the bonds of family, and the power of myth.
Ten years ago, Sylvia Gray's preteen daughter, Faye, attacked her babysitter to impress the Kingman, a monster she and her best friend discovered in the dark corners of the internet. After spending the rest of her childhood in a juvenile detention facility, Faye is now 21 and estranged from her family. Meanwhile, Sylvia's marriage and self-worth collapsed long ago in the wake of Faye's crime, leaving her alone, bereft, and questioning every parenting decision she ever made. When Faye goes missing, leaving her toddler in Sylvia's care, Sylvia enlists her ex-husband and estranged sister to find her before it's too late. Because Sylvia has been watching the news, and she's seen the stories heralding the Kingman's return...
In stunningly gorgeous, lyrical prose, Lindsay Starck weaves a layered story about blame and guilt, regret, choices, and the complexities of parenthood. There's lots of thoughtful discussion surrounding the power of stories, the internet's ability to dilute or supersede the truth, and how much responsibility a parent owns for the actions of their child. Simmering in the background is a missing person mystery and an ominous mythical monster with a well-constructed origin story that blurs the line between fact and fiction. It's a quietly suspenseful book and a rich, literary character study that raises complex questions with no easy answers.
Monsters We Have Made is a well-constructed and thought-provoking dissection of the real people, and their real lives, that exist beyond the highlights of a sensational crime -- and about the myriad shades of gray that can color what seems on the surface to be a black and white issue. I picked it up for the Slender Man vibes -- but I stayed for the poignant, textured exploration of the vast human psyche. ...more
But in that moment, I would learn for the first time that when you fall in love with someone, it's like finding something you didn't know you'd los
But in that moment, I would learn for the first time that when you fall in love with someone, it's like finding something you didn't know you'd lost -- and once you've grabbed hold of it you'll do anything to keep it safe.
It's been nearly seven years since Brian's wife, Lily, disappeared from his life without a goodbye, leaving Brian on his own to run the pub they bought and restored together. Now, as the anniversary of Lily's disappearance approaches, the once-thriving pub has fallen into disrepair, and Brian is in stasis, unable to move on, spending his evenings doom-scrolling the pub's online reviews. Then one evening, he finds an active reviewer account that he is convinced is Lily -- and he sets out on an excursion throughout England to track her down, following her reviews to landmarks across the country.
Unfolding on two timelines -- Brian's journey to find Lily, interspliced with the story of how they met and fell in love -- This Disaster Loves You is a warm, bighearted novel about the beautiful, messy, complicated adventure that is sharing your life with another person. Richard Roper writes with lightness, humor, and empathy as he explores serious topics: the hurt and confusion of being left without answers; the sorrow of loving someone desperately, but feeling powerless to save them when it matters most. Roper really nails the tone of the story, which feels hopeful and joyful despite its focus on such heavy themes. And the way he incorporates reviews of some of England's most well-known landmarks had me laughing out loud; I won't spoil it, but it's such a clever and cynical portrayal of modern online reviewer culture.
Brian is a genuine, relatable character, and I was rooting so hard for his healing and happiness. Because Brian narrates the novel in the first-person, we only really get to know Lily through his eyes -- but Roper's writing is so deft that we're able to see some truths about her that Brian himself isn't quite ready to face. It all makes for a moving, poignant reading experience that I found to be both heartbreaking and hopeful. A book about the messiest parts of life and love, This Disaster Loves You shows us that the light is always there, even during the darkest times, if we let our loved ones help us find it....more
She wanted desperately to lie. To shield the girl from fright. From reality. But she stood up, holding her boy tight, and heard herself say, "There
She wanted desperately to lie. To shield the girl from fright. From reality. But she stood up, holding her boy tight, and heard herself say, "There's someone in the house. Someone bad. We've got to hide. Now."
Nightwatching begins as a home invasion thriller and morphs brilliantly, effortlessly, into a scathing social commentary about misogyny and the treatment of women in modern society. I'm not going to summarize the plot, because your experience with this book will be best if you let the book wash over you, surprise you, and make you feel all of the emotions.
In her debut (unbelievable that this is a debut, by the way; it's so complex and assured), Tracy Sierra manages to hit on not just the greatest fear of every mother -- that your children are in danger and you are powerless to help them -- but also one of the greatest fears of most women -- that you will be gaslighted, disbelieved, or dismissed as crazy by authority figures when you desperately need their help. And she does all of this while maintaining the novel's tension, which starts on the very first page, with the book's terrifying opening line: "There was someone inside the house."
Nightwatching made me so anxious, immersing me in the mother's horror as she fights to protect her children, and then in her fragile mental state as she begins to question her sanity. It's so utterly terrifying on so many levels, so suspenseful and intense and propulsive, but also so perceptive and psychologically devastating as it paints a portrait of a damaged, struggling woman. It was so much more affecting than I expected it to be and just such a phenomenal, frightening read all-around.
Some comps if you're hungry for more books like this: The Need by Helen Phillips, The Push by Ashley Audrain, Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips....more
For a split second, Sam could see the whole vision again, his family a river family, Sam himself someday an old man with a permanent tan and a bear
For a split second, Sam could see the whole vision again, his family a river family, Sam himself someday an old man with a permanent tan and a beard and the gorge in his voice, expansive and happy and filled.
It's 1993, and Sam and Swami Brecht and their children are heading north to Thunderwater, Wisconsin, a Northwoods town of just over 200 residents. Sam and Swami have just purchased half of Sam's uncle Chip's whitewater rafting company, Woodchuck. The couple met as bright-eyed young river guides, but now their marriage has fractured under the weight of money troubles and the responsibility of three young children. Sam is convinced that a fresh start in the wilds of the Northwoods is just what his family needs. But Woodchuck needs some serious TLC, and things become even more tenuous when a flashy new competitor starts taking their business, and a mining company begins early excavations along the river that serves as their livelihood. And then come the historic floods, and the realization that Sam and Swami must learn to cling to each other and their family -- or they're going to drown.
True North is a poignant, perceptive family drama, rich with atmosphere and adventure. Andrew Graff's prose is evocative and emotional, vivid with descriptions of the natural world and infused with deeply human insights. This story completely captivated me from the first page, drawing me into the life of this lovely, messy family, and I was rooting so hard for them to make it.
One of my favorite movies is The River Wild, and True North gave me similar vibes -- not for the action plot, and not just for the obvious whitewater rafting comparison -- but because of the way a family comes together on a literal river, navigating the rapids as a unit. This is a book about how it's all so complicated, life and marriage and family and all of it, but how it can also be so simple -- about how love can change and grow and fade over time, but never really goes away completely. It's just such a beautiful, moving exploration of the complexities of navigating life as a family.
The characters are well-developed, conveyed with tenderness and authenticity, even the children (it's so hard to write children well, but Graff does it). There's this wonderful small-town found family element to the book that I found so affecting and heartwarming. There's adventure, there's emotion, there's drama, there are characters that come to feel like friends, all rendered by a writer with a true gift for storytelling. If you enjoy family dramas and wilderness fiction, you will love True North. Thank you to Ecco and NetGalley for the early reading opportunity. ...more
Several years ago, I began a chronological re-read of Stephen King's books and vowed not to read any of his new releases until I'd finished that projeSeveral years ago, I began a chronological re-read of Stephen King's books and vowed not to read any of his new releases until I'd finished that project. But You Like It Darker made me break that vow, because how was I supposed to resist a sequel story to Cujo?
That story, "Rattlesnakes," was my favorite in this collection, and it's a melancholy, haunting (in more ways than one) tale that I know will stick with me. Many of the stories, including "Rattlesnakes," are a meditation on growing older, looking back on a life full of joys and sorrows when you are reaching the end of it. It feels like an intensely personal perspective, so contemplative and weirdly gentle -- which I realize sounds strange for a book of horror stories but is in reality an often-overlooked trademark of King's writing.
The other previously unpublished stories -- "Two Talented Bastids," "Danny Coughlin's Bad Dream," "The Dreamers," and "The Answer Man" -- were definitely the best in the collection. "Two Talented Bastids" is creepy and campy. "Danny Coughlin's Bad Dream" is, if a bit bloated, a fascinating exploration of belief in the face of extraordinary circumstances, and features an intriguing King villain. "The Dreamers" takes place on a level of the Dark Tower, I am 1000% convinced. And "The Answer Man" is a heartbreaking celebration of a life well-lived (and is also likely Tower-adjacent).
And then there's "Willie the Weirdo" and "The Fifth Step," which read like a master class in how to write a perfect short horror story.
You Like It Darker isn't my favorite of King's short story collections (I don't think anything will be able to unseat Night Shift for that title), but it is a phenomenal set of stories. It's incredible to me that an author as prolific as King can still give readers something new, and can still evolve as a writer, even after so many years. And yet, he always does. ...more
I've been reading Stephen King since I was nine years old. Horror is my favorite genre, and I watch scary movies to relax. I'm not easy to scare. And I've been reading Stephen King since I was nine years old. Horror is my favorite genre, and I watch scary movies to relax. I'm not easy to scare. And We Used to Live Here terrified me. I would have read it in one day, except that I wasn't brave enough to read it at night.
Don't let that domestic drama-ish cover mislead you: This book is pure cosmic horror. It centers on a young couple, Eve and Charlie, who have recently purchased an isolated, ramshackle home deep in the Oregon wilderness with the intention of flipping it. One night, a few weeks after they move in, Eve is waiting for Charlie to get home when there's a knock at the door. It's a perfectly harmless-looking family -- two parents, three children -- and the father says he grew up in the house, and would Eve mind terribly if he brought his family in to look around? Just for 15 minutes?
Even that brief summary sounds like the beginning of a domestic suspense novel, but trust me when I say that We Used to Live Here veers in completely unexpected, mind-bending directions. From the very first page, the atmosphere feels menacing and ominous, laced with a mounting sense of unease that quickly becomes all-out dread. The scene in the attic in particular was relayed so vividly, with so much tension and malignancy, that I could literally feel my heart racing. And the unease, the sense of wrongness, I felt during the scene in the neighbor's house...It still makes me shudder. This book is scary.
I actually found We Used to Live Here even scarier for the lack of explanation it provides; there's a lot left to interpretation, a lot that isn't overtly explained in the book's conclusion. That's not going to please every reader, but often the most frightening and unsettling things are the ones we can't explain -- just like many of the rooted-in-reality topics that Marcus Kliewer incorporates into the plot: the Mandela effect, doppelgängers, sleep paralysis demons. I think Kliewer gave us enough to fill in the blanks ourselves -- and there is even a hidden message embedded in the book that provides an additional nugget of information (read and observe closely!).
We Used to Live Here was a completely gripping, truly unsettling, and often downright horrifying reading experience for me. I see you, Marcus Kliewer, and I can't wait for more. Thank you to Atria/Emily Bestler Books for the early reading opportunity....more
No one writes horror like Stephen Graham Jones. Not only are his books visceral and violent and bloody – they are also laced with a sense of melancholNo one writes horror like Stephen Graham Jones. Not only are his books visceral and violent and bloody – they are also laced with a sense of melancholic nostalgia that is rarely found in the genre. I Was a Teenage Slasher, written as a memoir of sorts from the point of view of an accidental young murderer, is no different. Tolly Driver takes us to Lamesa, Texas, in 1989, when he is seventeen years old and forced into the reluctant role of revenge killer, and the result is an intimate narrative that is just as heartbreaking as it is horrifying.
Utilizing his trademark knowledge of slashers to full effect, SGJ presents a story that has supernatural elements and lots of gore, but is also a coming-of-age story about a vulnerable, sympathetic young man forced into circumstances he never could have imagined – or wanted. Yes, SGJ made me root for, and feel empathy for, the slasher in the story. But rather than putting Tolly’s murders at the center of the story, I Was a Teenage Slasher instead focuses largely on Tolly’s friendship with his best friend, Amber. SGJ so perfectly captures the passionate, all-encompassing nature of teenage friendship, especially one between a boy and a girl that has undercurrents of unacknowledged attraction and is full of things that are never said. It’s so wistful and wholesome and affecting, which I realize sounds like a strange way to describe a book about a series of gruesome, slasher-style murders, but there you have it.
The book is already structured as a memoir, but there are parts of it that feel truly autobiographical as SGJ delves into the goings-on of a small Texas town in the late ‘80s, a place much like the one in which he grew up. It seems so personal, and it’s all so real and raw and emotional, sometimes quite funny but also upsetting in that way that just makes your heart hurt for someone. And the ending of this book is, hands-down, one of the best endings I’ve ever read in any book. Just oof.
I Was a Teenage Slasher fulfilled all my horror-loving dreams, but also fulfilled the part of me that hungers for outstanding literary fiction. I’ll read anything SGJ writes, forever and always....more
What happens when the black sheep of a dysfunctional family takes on a supernatural Italian entity? Read Diavola to find out!
Anna Pace is gearing up What happens when the black sheep of a dysfunctional family takes on a supernatural Italian entity? Read Diavola to find out!
Anna Pace is gearing up for another vacation with her family: her parents, her sister Nicole and her husband and daughters, and her twin brother Benny and his partner. This year, her parents have rented a gorgeous, remote villa in the heart of Tuscany. But despite the stunning location, Anna is filled with nothing but dread. She knows every family vacation comes with her sister’s contemptuousness, her mother’s judgement, and her brother’s and father’s ambivalence about it all. This year is no exception; as soon as Anna arrives, the family drama begins. The difference is, this year, something is lurking in the villa’s dark corners, absorbing the squabbles and hurled insults and passive-aggressive statements – and it’s just waiting for the perfect moment to make itself known.
I was initially going to rate this four stars, but the more I think about my experience with Diavola as I’m writing this review, I really can’t give it any less than a perfect five. I loved everything about Diavola. Jennifer Thorne combines horror elements with messy, complicated family dynamics, and she executes it flawlessly. Imagine fighting with your family while also being pursued by a malevolent entity they don’t believe exists – so stressful! It leaves the reader musing about what’s actually scarier: a supernatural being, or a dysfunctional family. And honestly, after meeting the Pace family? I still haven’t decided.
I’ve read several horror novels set outside of the U.S., but very few of them have utilized atmosphere as well as Diavola does. Thorne completely transported me to Italy’s picturesque villages along with the Pace family, transposing those quaint, sun-drenched streets with the darkness and dread waiting in the villa. Anna is a fantastic main character, sarcastic and witty, who isn’t quite unreliable but who also, Thorne seems to hint, is not completely undeserving of certain aspects of her family’s complaints.
But my absolute favorite thing about Diavola is that I had no idea what direction the plot would take. I didn’t predict a single aspect of this story, which was so refreshing. The pacing is perfect, slowly building to a perfectly-executed and satisfying conclusion. And then you add in that insanely amazing book cover?! I mean, the entire thing is just *chef’s kiss*....more
This is maybe the one thing I believe in, in the whole world. That when it's your time, you don't run from it. You stand against it. You keep your
This is maybe the one thing I believe in, in the whole world. That when it's your time, you don't run from it. You stand against it. You keep your eyes open and you rip and claw the whole way down, hope you can at least be a worthy trophy.
Stephen Graham Jones is a once-in-a-lifetime talent, a singular writer in the horror genre, wholly unmatched in his ability to write scenes that are just as cerebral as they are gory, just as emotional as they are violent. It's a special brand of slasher horror, one I think only he can pull off. And he's definitely the only writer who could have given us a character like Jade Daniels.
This third and final entry in the Indian Lake Trilogy is a reckoning for Jade, and for the town of Proofrock. How much more can one girl, and one town, be terrorized? A lot more, as it turns out. The Angel of Indian Lake is brutal, and it's beautiful.
Jade, the ultimate final girl regardless of how reluctant she is to take that title, is a character that will live in my chainsaw heart for the rest of my life. Stephen Graham Jones crafted her with such tenderness and love, with so much emotion, giving her a soft slasher heart and a brilliant, fierce spirit. She is the heart and soul of this trilogy, and it was bittersweet to turn the final page of this installment, knowing I was saying goodbye to her. I know I can go back and meet her all over again, but it won't be the same.
Horror is about so much more than just blood and guts and gore and jumpscares. Stephen Graham Jones has proven book after book that the horror genre can feel like a healing balm; it's nuanced, complex, emotionally rich, comforting in a way that only the most devout horror fans can relate to and understand. The Indian Lake Trilogy was for those fans. And it felt like it was just for me. ...more
Patrick took in their blank faces. How would he get them to understand love if he couldn’t get them to appreciate Carrie and Big?
The Guncle Abroad
Patrick took in their blank faces. How would he get them to understand love if he couldn’t get them to appreciate Carrie and Big?
The Guncle Abroad is that rare sequel that completely lives up to, and in some instances outshines, its predecessor. I loved The Guncle so much, and I couldn’t wait to be back with these characters. Returning to their world felt like coming home in a wonderful, heart-soaring way.
It’s five years after the events of The Guncle, Grant and Maisie are pre-teens, and their father Greg is getting remarried to an Italian marchesa named Livia. Grant and Maisie aren’t thrilled about the forthcoming nuptials, so it’s GUP to the rescue! Gay Uncle Patrick sweeps the kids off on a whirlwind tour throughout Europe, teaching them the Guncle Love Languages and trying not to think about all the ways that he has ignored his own advice and failed at love.
Stephen Rowley writes such special books that strike the perfect balance between hilarity and poignance. With wit and wisdom, he explores the intersections of joy and grief, the inescapable realities of aging, the bittersweetness of moving on, the infinite iterations of love, and the complexities of family dynamics. I’d read a passage that had me welling up with emotion, and then one immediately after that would make me laugh out loud. The combination of humor and heart is flawless, a marvel.
Rowley writes characters that feel so authentic: vulnerable, messy, complex. The plot allows for the introduction of several wonderful new characters – including Livia’s sister, the effortlessly cool Palmina, who Patrick is afraid will take his place as the kids’ “launt.” The rivalry between Patrick and Palmina provides some of the book’s funniest moments (two words: “hand jive”). The dynamic between Patrick and the kids is conveyed so perfectly; time passes as it does, they’re growing up, and everyone has to adjust to a new and different way of being with each other. Rowley perfectly conveys how bittersweet it is to love a child who is growing up, who wants to be treated like a grown-up, but who in many ways needs the adults in their lives more than ever.
The Guncle Abroad is a book that feels like the first bite of a warm chocolate chip cookie, or like a fuzzy, soft blanket, or perhaps like a cup of the world’s richest, most decadent hot chocolate at Angelina’s in Paris. I hope we haven’t seen the last of Patrick O’Hara & Co. Thank you to G.P. Putnam’s Sons for the early reading opportunity....more
4.5 stars. Mercury is, simply put, the story of a family. But as we all know, families are anything but simple.
Amy Jo Burns' second novel takes us to4.5 stars. Mercury is, simply put, the story of a family. But as we all know, families are anything but simple.
Amy Jo Burns' second novel takes us to Mercury, Pennsylvania, home of the Joseph family. When 17-year-old Marley West arrives in Mercury with her mother, she finds herself directly in the path of the Josephs, dating one brother and then marrying the other, and becoming a mother figure to the third. The Joseph brothers, who live with their complicated parents in a great house, become her life, as she finds herself part of a family in ways she's always wanted. But the Josephs have secrets like festering wounds, and when a troubling discovery is made in the church attic years later, they must all decide how steadfast their devotion and loyalty to one another really are.
Luminous and profound, Mercury is a slow-burning character study about flawed people, complex family dynamics, and the damage of unaddressed trauma and unhealed psychological wounds. Burns pillages the psyches of her characters, laying them completely bare for the reader, which makes this a devastating and emotionally resonant read. Burns' characters are as frustrating as they are sympathetic, because we want them to make better, healthier choices.
At the center of the story is Marley herself, caught in the whirlwind of the Josephs and not always doing the right thing herself, but who anchors the family all the same, with all-encompassing, sacrificial love. And it's the story of Elise, her mother-in-law, a woman doing her best with what she has been given -- even if her version of love can only be prickly and resigned at best, neglectful at worst.
I really enjoyed Burns' first novel, Shiner, and with Mercury she is cementing herself as a writer of heartfelt, incisive family dramas -- stories that on the surface seem simple, but are told with such moving complexity. I won a physical ARC of this novel in a Goodreads giveaway, and pairing it with the audiobook made the story even more immersive and affecting. Thank you to Celadon Books, Macmillan Audio, and NetGalley for the early reading opportunity. ...more