A Different Kind of Love Song

Chandler Morrison's Dead Inside has been on my radar for some time now, thanks in part to the extreme reactions of readers in some of the Facebook groups I belong to. And while I can understand their reactions, this book made me question myself and whether or not I was dead inside because there was...nothing. Well, that's not quite true. My initial reaction was, "Oh my god! I'm reading a romance!" And folks who know me know I DON'T DO ROMANCE.

I don't want to give away too much with this because then you'll be prepared for what's to come. So let's just say it's a Boy Meets Girl, Boy Gets Girl, Boy Doesn't Want Girl story.

The entire novella is told in the first person, and I don't believe we ever learn the narrator's name, but what we do know is that he's a night security guard at a small hospital and that he's not that picky about the women he beds. And you get the impression that that number is significant. In fact, the girls he has sex with all have one thing in common.

We get the impression that his job is quite boring and uneventful, but all that changes when he receives an emergency call over his walkie that he's needed to handle a situation. And that's where he encounters Helen, and there's something about her that gets under his skin. It's an itch that no amount of scratching can eradicate until he finds out more about her. So he begins stalking her. Kinda. Following her around the hospital via the security cameras as she makes her rounds, trying to find out more about her. When she disappears into a "restricted" area, his curiosity is piqued and he goes to investigate. And that's when he discovers that they're kinda kindred spirits.

What follows is a game of cat and mouse. Helen pursues our "hero," and while our hero is drawn to her, he knows getting involved with her is that last thing he needs to do, but it seems he can't help himself. But eventually they consummate their relationship with predictable results. And that's where I'll leave it because to say more would spoil the fun.

Having read it, I can understand folks' reaction to it, but I just kinda shrugged it off. Meh. Some claim that Morrison wrote the novella strictly for shock value, and that, as the story progresses, he tries to outdo himself with each graphic scene. I've written for shock value, and there's way too much going on and too much insight into the characters for that. What we have here is a love story, not matter how unconventional it might be. Two people with bizarre "quirks" are drawn to each other, unbeknownst at the time that they are toxic to each other. Two people who are traveling their own roads, colliding, and then continuing their journey together, although with different destinations, not knowing or realizing until it's too late that they are poisoning each other. The security, because of his taste in women, has lived his life in the shadows. He doesn't want to stand out, doesn't want to be memorable; he just wants to live and let live. Live in plain sight, don't draw attention to yourself, and you can basically get away with anything, and he does. He knows eventually he will get caught, but he doesn't let that stop him. His fear doesn't govern his life. Helen, on the other hand, lives in the light despite her strange appetites and tries to hide what she is and what she does. She skulks around in the shadows like vermin. As their relationship develops, the poison works its way into their systems, meshes with their very being, and thus corrupts them. The security guard slowly ventures, unwillingly, into the light, while Helen becomes more comfortable with the monster she is and begins to relish the darkness. Of the two, the security guard is the more sympathetic character, and you find yourself feeling sorry for him, strange as that may sound.

Now I don't mean to whitewash the book, as the content is plenty shocking, but the manner in which to the book is written softens the blow. At least for me. The narrative, which is first person, is very relaxed, conversational, like you're talking with your BFF, and it lulls you into a false sense of comfort. And then... BAM!!! Morrison hits you over the head with the first of many vile scenes. But you just sort of float with it. It's like being high and you've ventured outside your body and can view with detachment the scenes as they unfold. I also found there to be a certain poetic beauty to the prose that helped to soften the brutality of the scenes, which is probably why the book didn't affect me the way it did so many others.

Now the question comes... Would I recommend this book? I feel like I'm walking a tightrope with this one with no safety net. If you want a compelling story that's easy to read, then by all means, read it. HOWEVER, if you are in any way sensitive, are easily sickened by scenes of extreme gore and explicit content, have a queasy stomach, are easily offended, or are in any way prudish, DO NOT read this book.

And on a side note... Always leave you laughing. The last sentence of the book... After the dark journey I just took, had me laughing. Yeah, I'm sick and twisted.
 

Sexless (and Humorless) in the City

This isn't my usual cup of tea, but recently my other half roped me in to watching And Just Like That, which prompted a binge watch of Sex and the City, which got me curious to see what started it all, so online I went to download the book to my Kindle and prepared to laugh myself silly. And...

Nothing.

No sex.

No humor.

While I found the book to be okay, it was not at all what I was expecting. The thing that struck me was the lack of characters throughout the book, and without characters, there's no character interaction, and without interaction, there's nothing to engage the reader. That's not to say there are no characters; they appear throughout, expounding on their relationship views. And that's it.

I know it was a best seller, and I'll admit I may not be the book's target audience, but I failed to see the appeal of the book and how a quirky, fun show was conceived from something so dull and lifeless. That's not to say the book is bad, it just wasn't for me. And if you decide to read it, don't go into it like I did expecting the show or anything along those lines.

 

Mother Nature's Mad as Hell

 

Did a search on line for eco-horror, and Gina Ranalli's Unearthed was high on the list in my search results. Having never read anything by her, and since FB says this month is Women in Horror Month (I thought it was next month), I figured I'd give it a shot.

First off, before I continue, Unearthed in a novella, not a novel, so I'm going to keep the summary brief.

Our story opens with Rebecca Robinson making like Little Rabbit Foo-Foo and running through the forest, but she's not batting field mice over the head. No, instead she's looking for her dog, Lou. As she's returning home with the hopes that the dog beat her there, a sink hole opens up and she almost falls in. She's able to save herself, but once she's safe inside, another sink hole opens, this one beneath her house, causing the building's foundation to sag dangerously. Knowing she's no longer safe, she decides to strike out for the nearest neighbor, who is a ways down the road.

Meanwhile, in town, as a local cafe, a stranger bursts through the door claiming to barely have escaped being swallowed by the Devil, and before too long, they see something that shouldn't be but is -- a giant Digger Bee, has alighted on the cafe's window.

What follows is like a scene out of H.G. Wells's Food of the Gods: as more and more sink holes open up, more and more giant bees are unleashed. And the question becomes: Who will survive to see another day?

Ranalli keeps the readers on the edge of their seats, wondering what's going to happen to Rebecca and Lou, cafe owner Joe, and pregnant waitress Stacy. John, the man who escaped being swallowed by a sink hole, is a dick, so we don't care about him. And granted, given that this is a novella, there's not much in the way of character development, but we're given enough of a background for the players so that you find yourself rooting for them. The frustrating part of the story, as it is for many apocalyptic tales where the characters are cut off from the surrounding areas, is that we don't know if this is a localized occurrence or something that is happening across the United States (or globally?). We also don't know what sparked the growth of the bees. Is Mother Nature getting her revenge on those who have destroyed what she so graciously allowed us to us? Is it nuclear? Chemical? Given the isolative nature of the story, we have questions that aren't answered. Had this been a novel, we might have gotten those answers. But given the structure of the story, these unanswered questions, while annoying and frustrating to the reader, are acceptable.

My only real criticism is the ending. It feels unfinished, but that's what happens with cliffhanger endings, which is why I'm not a fan. I also don't like abrupt endings that leaving your hanging. You can assume the story is going to go one way, but it can easily go another, and nothing is resolved, and you wish the author had given you a definitive ending so you're not turning the page looking for what happens next. This particular detail aside, if you're a fan of those giant bug movies of the 40s and 50s, or some of the more recent offerings from the SyFy Network, this is one worth checking out.

Clip Their Wings

When the other half is watching a movie you have no interest in watching, what do you do? Why, scroll through the horror novel selections on Amazon, of course. And that's how I stumbled across Jack Morse's Giant Killer Bats of Alamogordo. Being a big fan of the eco-horror of the 40s and 50s, movies like THEM!, The Deadly Mantis, Tarantula, etc., I was so excited for this one and I went into it with high expectations. Sadly, those expectations to a swan dive off a cliff to crash on the rocks below.

Anyone familiar with those movies I listed above will know the premise of this book -- big, bad government is performing nuclear experiments in the New Mexico desert, and the result is giant killer bats. And that's where the problems with this particular work begin. The prologue tells us that the experiment occurred on August 5th, 1957, and from the sounds of it, this is the first of such tests. However, a little research will reveal the first nuclear testing in New Mexico occurred in 1945, and if the author had used that as a starting point, the initial problem could have been avoided. Chapter 1, you see, is dated September 8, 1957. So we're expected to believe all these bats grew to mammoth size over the course of a month. Insert eye roll. I should have bailed here, but remember...High expectations. Sigh.

The second problem encountered in the book are the characters. They're just not believable. As a result, you're praying for the bats to eat them so the reader can be put out of their misery. The central character is Ray Riggs, a newly married insurance salesman from Florida, who is traveling to California with his new bride, Sally. Their car overheats in the middle of the desert, and they're just fortunate enough to make it to a service station just in the nick of time. They're forced to spend the night in a local hotel. That night, they hear a strange noise coming from the desert and they go to investigate. They find nothing, but as they prepare to return to the hotel, a partially eaten carcass falls from the sky to land right in front of them. They call the sheriff, who has no business being in law enforcement. The sheriff arrives and accompanies Ray out to the desert, where they find...nothing. There's not even any blood soaked into the sand to indicate that a bloody half of a bull had ever been there. Not bloody likely. So the sheriff leaves, and that's when Ray finds a little morsel of bloody meat. How does he even know it's from the same animal?

The following day, Ray takes his evidence into town to show the sheriff. While Ray plays with the sheriff, Sally goes off on her own. The mayor shows up to complain about a missing bull and suggests the sheriff talk to Denis Avery, a man who is probably being attacked by a giant bat as they speak. (And yes, he is, because we're a witness to it -- a bat attack in broad daylight.) So the sheriff goes off to question Denis, and allows Ray to come along for the ride. Not very professional, running the risk of putting a civilian's life in jeopardy. And Ray runs off without telling his new bride where he's going? Not bloody likely. While Ray is off playing junior deputy, enter the Big, Bad Government agent, who really needs to have a handlebar moustache to twirl, who proceeds to kidnap Sally, tie her up, and then question her all because he saw her and her husband take a walk into the desert. He knows something is going on, but he's totally clueless as to what. He has no idea that the nuclear testing he was responsible for overseeing gave birth to giant killer bats. In a month's time. And while he's questioning her, the bats attack. In broad daylight. So why is it no one else has seen these giant bats if they keep attacking during daylight hours? We learn that people and animals are missing, but nobody has seen a thing.

Later on, when the sheriff goes to investigate a cave, with trust Deputy Ray in tow, he pulls out a handy dandy Geiger counter because... well, just because. How does he know there's been some Top Secret nuclear testing going on in his own backyard? Is this standard equipment for sheriffs back in the 50s? And they just so happen to discover the bats in question. On their first try. Makes it sounds like this is the only cave in the area. And being a cave, you know what they have to do. Seal it. But nobody has admitted to having explored the cave in depth, so they really don't know if there's another entrance, but they seem certain there aren't any, and they just know blowing the entrance is going to take care of all their problems. Hell, they don't even need any poisonous gas to pump into the cave before they blow it. And Mr. Government agent, who gets "kidnapped" by a bat, falls hundreds of feet from a bat that can't manage to gain any height because of the weight it's carrying and only screws up his knee and MAYBE busted a couple ribs, manages to make it through the desert and into town, hurt, bleeding, and with no water. And he must be part bat, because nobody sees him. No. Sorry. Just... no.

As promising as the story idea is, it just fails on all levels. I could go on and on, but I'm gonna stop here. No character development. Plot holes big enough to swallow a semi. And totally unrealistic characters. As much as I would love to be able to recommend this one, I can't. If you need a giant creature feature to feed your addiction, you're be better off reading The Food of the Gods and How it Came to Earth by H.G. Wells.

Night of the Living Dead Bigfoot

 

I don't know what prompted me to buy this one. Was it Bigfoot? Zombies? 99 cents? Maybe it was free. It certainly wasn't the author, as I've never read anything by Nick Sullivan. It was way back in 2017 (yes, and I'm just now getting around to reading it), so I don't remember, but having finished it, I'm kinda bummed that I waited so long to get around to it. Possibly because I'd read one zombie/Bigfoot mash-up that was god-awful and I was to afraid to risk diving into this one. All I can say is, this is what a zombie/Bigfoot mash-up should be.

When the book starts out, you might think you're in for a run-of-the-mill zombie novel, as we're introduced to two survivalist/reality TV stars who are quickly dispatched by a couple of zombies. The attack is witness by a young Sasquatch, who senses something isn't right. The humans are moving around, yet they smell dead. The creature, known as Bright Eyes, retreats and rushes back to warn his troop and urges the alpha to pack up the family and leave. Silverback, the alpha, won't be told what to do by a young upstart, and, thinking it's just the youngster's wild imagination, he insists Bright Eyes take him to where these Dead-Alive creatures are. Right away Silverback knows something isn't right, but his pride won't let him back off. He's the alpha, after all, so he attacks the Dead-Alive humans, and while he kills them permanently, he's also bitten in the process.

Meanwhile, another reality TV star (Survivor Guy Russ) is planning his latest episode when his agent proposes a Sasquatch hunt. Russ is at first hesitant, thinking it will derail his serious show about surviving in the wilds, but he learns that the expedition will be fully funded and he'll have reknowned primatologist Sarah Bishop to accompany him. The primatologist's father had spent time with a Bigfoot, who we later learn to be Bright Eyes, but alas, there was no evidence and he was ridiculed and drummed out of academia for fabricating the entire thing.

Soon, the reality TV cast ventures into the forest where the late Dr. Bishop had had his Bigfoot encounter with the hopes of encountering Bright Eyes, not knowing the terror they are about to face. Will man and beast be able to work together to eliminate a mutual threat or will man's fear of the unknown be their downfall?

I have to admit, I almost put this one aside early on because of the Bigfoot POV. Normally something like that wouldn't be an issue, but when there are curse words sprinkled through the cryptid's thoughts, it just didn't sit right with me. Suspended disbelief is one thing, but a cursing Bigfoot was just a little too much. Thankfully, Sullivan found his footing where the creatures were concerned, and I was thankful I pushed past this blip in the road.

As I mentioned earlier, not too long ago I read a zombie/Bigfoot mash-up that I thought was awful. There was no character development, and the author seemed more focused on the chain of events than the characters. I can see the point, as the author ended up killing off all (or most) of the human characters, so I think the author was justifying it by thinking the characters are just cannon fodder for the rest of the story so why bother letting the reader get to know them. I feared Sullivan might make that same error--you need to know the characters if you're expected to feel anything when they are sent to meet their maker--and I'm glad to see he didn't. And it wasn't just the human characters he developed; he also developed his cryptids, assigning them their own personalities, so you came to care for them as well. They weren't just stupid beasts traipsing through the woods.

In addition, Sullivan too great care developing his story line; it wasn't just a zombie Bigfoot crashing through the forest, killing indiscriminately, and the zombies aren't just thrown in as a way to advance his plot, which is something he leaves you wondering about until you're a good way into the book. You find yourself thinking, "How do they (the human characters) not know about the zombies?" but it all falls into place eventually. I also like that the author pulls from Native American folk lore and brings other creatures into this; while they don't actually make an appearance, Sullivan ties in the zombies with the Wendigo, and at the end, while he does wrap up the story he's telling in this book, he does introduce another creature that leaves the door wide open for a follow-up novel, which I hope is coming out soon.

If zombies are your thing, but you're also a fan of Bigfoot fiction, this is one to definitely check out. Highly recommended.