Abandon All Hope...

 Mike Bockoven's FantasticLand is a book that's been on my radar for a while, ever since I saw it mentioned in a FB book group. What appealed to me was the Lord of the Flies-type theme. If you're familiar with Golding's classic, you'll understand what I mean.

The format of FantasticLand is one that doesn't usually appeal to me (the story is told via a series of interviews), but thanks to my recent excursion into the realm of audiobooks, I found it worked surprisingly well. You get a little bit of insight into each of the players. What we learn is that the worst hurricane to ever hit Florida has left 300+ employees of the theme park FantasticLand stranded, cut off from the rest of the world for about a month. Given that it's a theme park, it was figured that they had enough food, water, and shelter that the survivors weren't in any immediate danger, so they were low down on the list of priority areas being worked through by the rescue workers. What they didn't account for was that a majority of the stranded employees were kids, teenagers fresh out of high school, and we all know what happens when kids are left unsupervised, free to run amok in a place where "fun is guaranteed!" But everybody has their own ideas of what is considered fun.

I breezed through this book in a matter of days. I found the narrative compelling, to the point where I didn't want to put down the book. It's always interesting to see society unravel when faced with hardship and adversity, and the rate at which it happens. Sometimes it's slow in coming, and other times it's like flipping a switch. And that, I feel, is the one failing of the book. Because of the books structure, we know what happened, and we witness key events through the eyes of the participants and/or witnesses. Don't get me wrong; I loved the book---BUT I feel it loses any sense of threat or danger by not putting the reader within the world to experience the events with our own eyes as they unfold. We don't get to see first-hand the unraveling of society. You don't become emotionally invested in any of the characters, so you don't get to root for them the way you would with a more traditional narrative.

With that said, I have to wonder if I would feel the same way about the book had I read the physical (or digital) book. Most books work well in both physical and audio (provided you have the right narrator) formats, but there are some books that just HAVE to be read and there are some books that you just HAVE to listen to. I feel FantasticLand falls into the latter category. But no matter how you prefer to read, this one is definitely worth checking out. Final rating? 4.5/5 stars

We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat

I've been a fan of Steve Alten ever since I first read Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror back in 1997, but I usually reserve these books for summer reading and my Don't Go Near the Water reading challenge, so why I'm reading it right before Christmas when I should be reading Christmas Horror novels is a mystery to me.

Nightstalkers picks up shortly after the events of Hell's Aquarium. Thanks to all those eaten by the Megs, the Tanaka Institute is being inundated with lawsuits that are driving the institute into bankruptcy. Add to that the stress of knowing Angel's offsprings Bela and Lizzy are loose, so to say the situation is creating a strain on Jonas and Terry's marriage would be an understatement. David, Jonas's son, is depressed and suicidal over the death of his girlfriend, who was eaten by a Liopleurodon, and he feels that the only way to free himself from the nightmare he's trapped in is to kill the creature that caused it. What follows is more of what we've come to love about the Meg series -- aquatic dinosaurs long thought extinct wreaking havoc and eating people to their heart's content.

Reading one of the Meg books with its recurring cast of characters is like visiting with old friends. Fast-paced and action-packed, these books always hold me in their thrall. The only problem I had with this particular entry is the presence of Zachary Wallace, the central character of Alten's The Loch and its sequel, Vostok. Now, I loved The Loch, but Alten jumped the megalodon with Vostok, bringing in aliens, UFOs, and time travel, and, unfortunately, the author drags all that baggage into Nightstalkers, earning a number of eye rolls from me and causes enough of a distraction to lose half a star from the total rating, bringing what could've been a 5 star read to a 4.5. Don't let that minor glitch dissuade you from diving in and swimming with the megs. If you like creature features, or if you like plain ol' dinosaur mayhem, I definitely recommend checking out this series. 

They're Coming to Get You, Barbara...

Though thankfully, there's no Barbara within these pages. That would've been a bit much.

As much as I feel there's an oversaturation of zombie fiction out there, zombies will always have a special place in my heart because the first short story that I ever had published was a piece of zombie fiction. As a result, I sometimes feel the need to take a trip into some zombie-fied landscape, and what better trip to take than to take one created by the father of the modern zombie movement, George Romero.

The Living Dead by George A. Romero and Daniel Kraus has been sitting in my TBR since the day it was published (August 4, 2020), but the itch to delve into another zombie-infested world eluded me until recently.Mind you, I was going into this book blind, having read nothing about it until the day I cracked the book open, so I can honestly say I had no idea what to expect going in. Would we be seeing the outbreak from the beginning, or since Romero's zombies have been around since 1968, would we be jumping in decades into the outbreak? I won't keep you in suspense -- we're witnessing the beginning of the outbreak. And the year isn't 1968. It's more contemporary -- 2023. October, to be exact.

Early on, I almost put the book aside several times. It felt plodding and directionless. Why? We were introduced to a large cast of characters and given backstory for just about every character introduced. You would just be getting caught up in the action, then suddenly have to put on the brakes on as we're provided their backstory. Even characters that are introduced and killed off within the same chapter have an extensive history that we learn before they die. Then, about halfway through, there's a time jump of ten years and we're given a year by year summary of things Etta Hoffman has learned and documented. While interesting, it's just slightly less tedious that the first half of the book. Then there's another time jump, this time only four or five years, at which point many of the characters we were introduced to in the first part have come together, and it is here where the story starts gathering steam. While the first half took me several weeks to get through, I finished the second half in a matter of days, and it's for that reason I would recommend it. But it's not for everyone. Why?

First off, if you're one who likes a happily ever after ending, DO NOT read this book. It's bleak as hell, and it paints a rather dismal picture of humanity. Second, if you're one of these "I'm only 20 pages in, but can you let me know if it gets better" readers, DO NOT read this book. As I already stated, the book is slow and plodding in the beginning and you'll be asking that question with every chapter. It's saying something when I contemplate putting a book aside (which would never really happen. I tend to finish what I start, and there's only a handful of books that I actually ended up not finishing). And third, if gore turns your stomach and makes you want to stop reading, DO NOT read this book. While it's tame when you compare it to today's extreme horror fiction, it does have its moments. BUT if you're a fan of all things zombie, then this one is definitely worth checking out. 4/5 stars

Here's to the Ladies who Lunch... and Slay

I first became aware of Grady Hendrix a number of years ago, when he gave his Paperbacks from Hell presentation at a Writer's Retreat I attended, and the man was funny. Downright hysterical. I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard. So naturally, I assumed his books would be just as funny. So on my next trip to the bookstore, I grabbed a copy if Horrorstor... And hated it. The book just wasn't funny. No, wait... I take that back. There were maybe two funny lines in the entire book, and they occurred very early on in the book. Like maybe Chapter 1. Possibly Chapter 2. The rest was a slog with a bunch of very unlikable characters. I wanted to give the author another chance, though. I mean, everyone is entitled to have an off day (off book), so it was with some reluctance that I picked up The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires. It was described as Steel Magnolias meets Dracula,and I like both of those, and while it didn't WOW! me, it did end up enjoying it more than my previous exursion into Hendrix Country.

The premise is nothing new: handsome stranger (James Harris), who is not who or what he claims to be, worms his way into the lives of a close-knit community, while on the outskirts of town, children are either disppearing or committing suicide. The events happen to coincide with each other, but is he responsible? Patricia Campbell eventually stumbles onto the man's secret and takes it to her book club, and it's up to them to put an end to his reign of terror. But it's not as simple as it sounds because Patricia can't come right out and say the man is a vampire. Who would believe here? They don't even want to believe her when she accuses the man of being a child molester and a drug pusher who's selling drugs to children. It takes her three years to finally gather enough evidence, but even then they're reluctant to believe her because Mr. Harris has so firmly ingrained within their circle as an upstanding citizen, best friend and business partner to their husbands, and becomes idolized by their children. And as long as he doesn't hurt those within the community, that he continues to target the "poor" part of town, they're content to look the other way. But Patricia won't let it rest, and it's only when he attacks one of the book club members and sets his sights on Patricia's children that they decide something needs to be done.

While the book isn't as funny as I wanted it to be after seeing Hendrix's presentation, it does have its moments that had me chuckling, and it was 100x better than Horrorstor. There's a large cast of characters you need to keep track of, not all of which are likeable, but if feel like Hendrix drew a line on the floor and told all the good characters need to be on one side, and the bad characters on the other, and after everyone had chosen their sides, it's pretty much guys vs girls, which pretty much reflects the southern society of the time. I did find the pacing to be inconsistent. The book starts of strong, but about halfway through, it flatlines, at least for me (at this point I almost put the book aside), and doesn't pick up again until you're about three-quarters of the way through, at which point it moves like an express train toward the climax. Would I recommend it? If you only read "serious" horror, I don't think this is the book for you, but if you don't mind your horror on the light side with a smattering of humor, it's definitely worth checking out. 4/5 stars

But now I need a tie breaker. Which Hendrix book should I read next? Hmmmm... 

Hollywood Kills

 Some of my more recent reads have been about serial killers stalking film and TV sets and killing off cast, crew, and extras, so I knew it was only a matter of time before I stumbled across another one, and stumble I did with Chuck Tingle's Bury Your Gays. In all honesty, I was quite sure what to expect with this. Thanks to Amazon's screwed-up algorithm, I've seen some of his books online when browsing the horror selections, and a good portion of them are gay erotica with very outrageous titles. And I do vaguely remember some brouhaha a few years ago when he was nominated for some science fiction/fantasy award. So to say I wasn't expecting much would be an understatement. Boy, was I surprised.

The book tells the story of Misha Byrne, a relatively well-known screenwriter with some movies under his belt, a popular streaming series, and a short film that's earned him an Oscar nomination. In short, his star is finally rising -- until he is called in to meet with one of the studio executives, who proceeds to shatter his dreams by telling him the higher-ups want him to kill off two of his characters, who happen to be lesbians. The old trope that says gays and lesbians can never have a happy ending, that as soon as something good happens to them, tragedy MUST strike. Of course, Misha refuses, as this was something he's been building to ever since the series started. He's not going to bring them together, only to kill them off. There are the thinly veiled threats, but Misha plans to stick to his guns. Instead of being thrilled about his Oscar nomination and the upcoming award ceremony, he's stewing in a cloud of anger and fear, angry that if he doesn't do what the studio is telling him to do, he'll "never work in this town again." And if that isn't enough, he suddenly finds himself being stalked by crazed fans dressed as some of his horror creations. But are they simply crazed fans, or is the studio behind it, trying to scare him into doing what they want? Or is it something else? 

I really liked this one. It was well-written, populated with a cast of likable characters, and had the perfect balance of humor and horror (and I'm usually not a fan of horror comedy because it's so hard to do well). It moved along at a brisk pace, and took some turns I totally wasn't expecting. I mean, I thought I had it all figured out, but Tingle totally surprised me. Is it a little over the top? Of course, it is, but isn't all horror to some extent? If you're a fan of horror comedy, this one is definitely worth checking out. My only complaint? I personally would have liked to have seen a high body count and a little more gore. 4.5/5

Return to Hill House

Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House is a classic of the horror genre, as is its 1963 film adaptation, and is considered a Must Read/See for any horror enthusiast. So when I heard that there was an authorized sequel, Elizabeth Hand's A Haunting on the Hill, I knew it was one I was going to have to check out. And what better time to do it than at the start of what folks call the Spooky Season, when many avid readers, especially ones who don't normally read horror fiction, set out to find the creepiest, most horrifying reads to devour leading up to the best holiday of all -- Halloween.

Shirley Jackson has already set the stage for Elizabeth Hand's novel: a creepy old mansion with a dark history located on the outskirts of Hillsdale, geographic location not specified, although it's assumed the town is somewhere in the New England area. Don't know why, but I always assumed it was upstate New York.

In Hand's novel, we find a small group of theater people renting out Hill House for two weeks to workshop a a dark, supernatural play, much the the dismay of the "groundskeeper," Evadne Morris, and her niece, Melissa Libby, both of whom know the house's dark history. They try warning away Holly and her group, dropping menacing hints about the bad shit that's gone down in the past, but never once coming right out and saying what exactly those things were. Even Ainsley Rowan, the realtor (and owner) for Hill House, who also has knowledge of the house's history, doesn't try too hard to dissuade the playwright from renting the house. Not even the rental contract, full of enough clauses and disclaimers freeing her from... well, from anything that might befall the party, is enough to keep Holly from going ahead with the rental. It's almost as if something is preventing them from saying too much.

From the moment they set foot in Hill House, things begin to happen, subtle at first, that the group excuses away, each for their own reasons. And therein lies the problen with Hand's novel. Don't get me wrong... I enjoyed the book immensely, but there was something lacking, and that was the subtle escalation of events that build to the climax. Also missing is the strong psychological twisting and mental decline that Jackson did so masterfully that had the reader wondering: Is Nell a little unhinged (she was) or was it the house (it was)? Hand fails to deliver to us a fragile Nell-like character for the house to play with, and as a result, while we read on to find out what happens, we never become fully invested in any of the characters, not to the point we were with Jackson's Nell, and while we want to know what happens to them, we never truly fear for them.

The other thing I found mildly disappointing was the lack of reference to Jackson's original work. Here you have an authorized sequel, but never once are there specific references to the events that transpired all those years ago. They're alluded to, like the car and the stump, but there's nothing specific. Not even Stevie, when he recounts what he's learned from Googling Hill House, mentions Markway, Nell, or any of the events at that time. He mentions more recent transient residents of the house, but nothing about those events nor of the history of the house itself and the tragedy of the original family.

Those things aside, it shouldn't prevent you from enjoying Hand's novel for what it is -- a mildly creepy haunted house story. I would suggest listening to the audiobook on this one (I did), as the sound effects and hearing the old folk songs sung create a sense of atmosphere that brings out the spookiness of the narrative. More than once I found myself looking around for the source of sounds before realizing they were coming from the book itself, which was just a tad bit unsettling, making it the ideal book to start off the Spooky Season with. 4.5/5 stars  

I'll Get You, My Pretty...

 When I first happened across this, I knew it was going to be a Must Read. There are nearly enough books about witches. My only problem is, based soley on the cover (Never judge a book by its cover), I thought it was going to be a whimsical fairytale type story. Boy, was I ever wrong. Brom's Slewfoot: a tale of bewitchery is brutal, and I mean that in a good way.

Slewfoot offers a view of puritanical New England, a place where women had no rights and were treated only slightly better than the servants, where a slip of hair from the bonnet, or showing too much wrist or ankle or, God forbid, cleavage could earn you a night in the stocks, and possibly a turn at the whipping post. Any sign of what is considered disrepect toward the men folk can land you a jail stay. Or worse, as Abitha Williams is soon to find out.

Abitha is an England transplant, sold into marriage by her father. Her mother was a conjure woman, a woman versed in medicinal remedies and charms or blessings. Abitha, it seems, has inherited some of her mother's talent, but she needs to be very discreet, as knowledge and dabbling of this type could lead to an accusation of witchcraft. Edward, Elizabeth's husband, is a simple-minded man, maybe even "special,"; he's aware of her "talents," is unhappy that she dabbles but has not expressly forbid her from using her gift. When he does put his foot down, ordering her to do something, it's not done out of disrespect, but fear, fear for her safety, and fear for himself, because he knows he won't be abe to survive without her.

When the book opens, we're made aware of a presence on the Williams' acreage, and we know whatever it is craves blood, as Abitha's goat is one of the first victims. Jump to a confrontation between Edward and his brother, Wallace, who has put up Edward's farm as collateral against a venture that failed, and now the debt has to be paid. It seems that the farm is family land, and when the head of the Williams family passed, he left everything to Wallace. Edward is in the process of paying off the land, indeed, he only has one more payment to go, but under the knew ownership, it would mean he basically becomes a slave to the new owner. Abitha, never knowing when to keep her mouth shut, puts in her two cents (and rather forcefully, I might add), thus setting up the story-long conflict between Abitha and Wallace, which only escalates after Edward falls victim to whatever entity stalks the land, his body never to be found.

The beginning of Slewfoot starts off slow as relationships are established and the author paints a desolate picture of what life is like for women at this moment in history. After Edward's death, the story picks up as Abitha struggle to make the farm work while Wallace is doing everything within his power to see to it that she fails. Abitha gains certain allies along the way who make her question her faith, who slowly make Abitha aware that she possesses power and abilities she never knew she had. And through the struggles and hardships and trying to foil Wallace's attempts to claim her land, Abitha becomes a strong, independent woman, someone to be reckoned with, which is why Wallace has to resort to accusations of witchcraft to bring this woman to her knees. Or does he? And that's where the story really takes off. The tension rises during the course of the story and you can't help but keep turning the pages to the explosive climax.

With Slewfoot, the author has created a gripping narrative of power, privilege, and entitlement; of growth and self-discovery; of deceit and betrayal. It can also be looked at as a coming-of-age tale as Abitha comes into her own. It is a story that is at times heart-felt and at other times heart-breaking. A MUST READ. 5/5 stars