Eerie, Darkly Romantic, But Flawed

Interview with the Vampire: Claudia’s Story by Ashley Marie Witter (Yen Press, 2012, 224pp.)

When most people think back on their early childhoods, the memories they’re most likely to recall are attending preschool, going to birthday parties, and making friends. For Claudia, her first memory is of the night she was turned into a vampire. Her two guardians (the ones responsible for her transformation) are Louis and Lestat. Louis guides her towards studying the classics, enjoying music, and appreciating the beauty of the natural world. Lestat, the sleek and sophisticated alpha male of their trio, on the other hand, is more interested in exposing her to the carefree life of murder and mayhem that their dark lifestyle has to offer (in other words, he’s the “fun” parent). Because of the peculiar nature of vampire biology, Claudia cannot outgrow her childlike body, though her mind has quickly matured past the point of childish interests. She soon begins to question the oddity of her existence, and wonders: Is her little coven of three the only vampires in existence, or are there others of their kind elsewhere? Although she presses her guardians for answers, both are reluctant to explain and continue to treat her like a child rather than the young woman that she has matured into. When the truth is at last revealed to her, it’s more devastating than she expected, and puts a nearly unbearable sense of strain on their family life.

Interview with the Vampire: Claudia’s Story is a graphic novel adaptation of the 1976 novel by Anne Rice. Instead of tracing the story as originally told entirely through Louis’s POV, Claudia’s Story is seen through Claudia’s eyes, and manages to fill in the gaps of Louis’s narrative. Although it provides no surprising revelations into Claudia’s character, I have to applaud the adapter’s efforts for approaching the story from this particular angle, by highlighting Claudia’s predicament as a metaphor for teen angst and rebellion.

At times eerie, twisted, disturbing, and darkly romantic as the original novel, Claudia’s Story starts out strong, but is flawed by the change of pace at the three quarter mark. From this point to the end, the story’s pacing speeds up considerably, and inevitably causes it to lose some of its dramatic power. Fans of the Vampire Chronicles and the 1994 movie should be able to follow the action as it wraps up, but first-time readers of the story may need to consult the original source material. Recommended for mature readers for violence.

Lean on Both Substance and Character

The Curse of Dracula by Marv Wolfman. Illus by Gene Colan and Dave Stewart (Dark Horse, 2013, 82pp.)

“The undead deserve no mercy. They’ve earned no compassion.”

Set in San Francisco, Jonathan Van Helsing, CEO of Sunlight Industries, leads a dream team of vampire hunters against Count Dracula, the historical devil who’s been slinking through the centuries using deceit and guile. Presently, the Count is investing his time in politics, lending support to Charles Waterson, a slimy senator who’s signed over his soul in exchange for a chance at the White House. While it has some potential, Curse ultimately proves to be disappointing, being lean on both substance and character. Recommended for mature readers for language, violence, and sex.

Suzuki Reinvents Ring's Premise in Thrilling Sequel

Spiral (Ring, #2) by Koji Suzuki (1995; Vertical, 2016, 283pp.)

In Ring, newspaper reporter Asakawa and logic professor Ryuji tackled the mystery of a cursed videotape that left four teenagers dead. They learned that the videotape, which causes you to croak in a week’s time after watching it, was created by a beautiful, but vengeful young psychic who died at the bottom of a well. Despite their efforts, Ryuji succumbed to the videotape’s curse, and, in Spiral, winds up on the dissecting table of his former grad school classmate. The last person Ando expected to dissect is his old friend, but even more disturbing than that is the result of his autopsy findings: in addition to a perfectly healthy man dying from a sudden heart attack, Ryuji was also suffering from smallpox. To those who don’t know, smallpox was eradicated by scientists decades ago, so its appearance on an autopsy report should be impossible—except a little investigative work reveals that at least seven other people have died of similar causes. To make things even more bizarre, Ando finds an encoded note in Ryuji’s stomach cavity which may have the answers to defeating this mysterious new “ring virus.”

In this souped-up science fiction/medical thriller, Suzuki reinvents his curse, causing it to evolve from the simple case of a cursed videotape to a radical new life-form. The author’s new explanation for the curse is interesting, well thought-out, and works well with the rules previously laid down in the Ring universe. On the downside, however, Suzuki spends way too much time educating the reader on code-breaking and DNA in order to validate his premise, and thus runs the risk of alienating impatient readers to an otherwise excellent thriller.

Moving Creep-Fest Serves as Tribute to Female Friendship and 1980s Pop Culture

My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix (Quirk Books, 2016, 336pp.)

Ah, the ’80s. When most people think of this decade, they probably think of three things: shoulder pads, big hair, and the distinctive sound of its pop music. They probably do not automatically think of Satanic cults. Alas, thanks to a commonly shared belief that lack of religion and sleazy pop culture was causing teens to turn to Satanism, the concept of demonic possession isn’t that far a reach.

The story told in My Best Friend’s Exorcism belongs to Abby and Gretchen, two childhood friends who grow up sharing late-night phone marathons, forbidden Judy Blume novels, Seventeen Magazine, make-up techniques, and later, drugs. During one drug-fueled evening at a friend’s lake house, Gretchen, a sweet, loving girl, gets lost in the woods and emerges hours later, a cruel, sadistic wraith. When Abby later learns that the woods by the lake was once the rumored site of a Satanic sacrifice, she is left to wonder: is the Devil at work?

Although the story suffers from a slow start, patient readers will be rewarded with a surprisingly moving creep-fest that is as much a tribute to female friendships and 1980s pop culture as it is to the joys (and terrors!) of high school. Yet while the heroines are both teens, I definitely would not shelve it in the teen section of your library. As I said before, the beginning is a little slow, and the plot itself is so steeped in '80s nostalgia that most teens probably wouldn't appreciate the references. That said, although it exhibits drug-use, discussions of sexual activity, and several gross-out scenes, it's nothing that most older teenage horror fans won't be able to handle.

If Stephen King Wrote the Screenplay for "127 Hours," It Would Look Like This

Source: Goodreads

Gerald’s Game by Stephen King (1992; Pocket Books, 2016, 480pp).

Hoping to jazz up their sex life, Jessie’s middle-aged hubby, Gerald, handcuffs her to the bed at their secluded summer cabin for a good, old-fashioned sex game. What could have been just another unpleasant evening for Jessie to endure suddenly takes a deadly turn when, minutes after slapping the cuffs on her, Gerald drops dead of a massive heart attack. Now she’s trapped, miles from help. The handcuff keys are located on a far-away dresser-top. The telephone is in the other room. And—as she soon finds out—there’s a starving stray dog outside looking for meat. Unfortunately for Jessie—but especially for poor Gerald—someone forgot to close the back door…

Do you remember that movie 127 Hours, where James Franco finds himself trapped in a ravine with a boulder crushing his arm? Gerald’s Game is kind of like that: like Hours, it focuses on a protagonist trapped in dire circumstances, who experiences a requisite period of self-examination, and comes to a personal revelation that prompts her to attempt an all-or-nothing escape. Unlike 127 Hours, which is well-paced and inspiring, Gerald’s Game is by turns fleet-footed and plodding, an absorbing character study that runs on for far too long. Had King pared his idea down to a short story, he probably would have been the better for it. And while there are some genuinely prime scares in the story, these moments are all too often out-weighed by grisly descriptions of the stray dog nomming on pieces of dead Gerald. In other words, if you gross-out easily, avoid this book like the plague. For King’s regular fans? It’s not bad, but certainly not his best.

Poetic and Grotesque

Source: Publisher Website

The Vegetarian by Han Kang (2007; Hogarth, 2016, 192pp.)

Mr. Cheong finds his mild-mannered existence interrupted when his wife, Yeong-hye, wakes up from a horrifying nightmare where she is surrounded by meat—bloody, dripping meat. The dream so disturbs her, she declares that she will henceforth live as a staunch vegan. Her family, who see vegetarianism as an unnatural act of social deviancy, is shocked and upset. Her artist brother-in-law, however, sees her as the key to completing his next masterpiece—an act that could destroy his peaceful marriage.

Ponderous, poetic, and grotesque, The Vegetarian is a short novel that flowers into a kind of intellectual horror story over the course of just 192 pages. Being psychological fiction, it may prove boring to lovers of slasher stories, however those who like their books slow and surreal will find it to be a literary treat. Just don’t read it while you’re eating.

Nailbiter Detective Novel with Weak Ending is Still Worth a Browse

Source: Author Website

Mr. Mercedes (Bill Hodges Trilogy #1) by Stephen King (Scribner, 2014, 448pp.)

It’s 2009. The economy’s tanked. In a nameless Midwestern city, job-seeking hopefuls are lined up outside the annual City Center job fair when a madman plows into the crowd with a stolen Mercedes Benz. Eight are killed, and dozens maimed by the time the death-car’s taillights vanish in the early morning fog. When the police find the vehicle hours later, it’s abandoned in a parking lot, and wiped clean of prints. As a final, creepy touch, the killer also left the clown mask he was wearing during the massacre on the driver’s seat. No one is ever caught.

Exactly one year after the massacre, newly retired detective Bill Hodges receives a letter from Mr. Mercedes, taunting him for being unable to crack the case. Given a new sense of purpose, Hodges sets to work trying to catch him. Covering points of view for both the killer and the detective, Mr. Mercedes chronicles the cat and mouse game they play that could result in yet another attack of unthinkable horror.

What can I say? No one can craft a story like King can, nor can they capture the feel of an era and use it to such maximum effect. A modern-day tribute to the detective genre, Mr. Mercedes combines good old-fashioned noir with creepiness, out-right horror, and that off-the-wall prose that King’s fans know and love him for. And while I can’t quite hail the ending as particularly strong or original, it certainly is one heck of a ride getting there! Recommended for fans of David Fincher's serial killer film, Seven.

Stephen King Gets Back on Track with “Revival”

Source: Author Website

Revival by Stephen King (Scribner, 2014, 405pp.)

In the 1960s, young Jamie Morton becomes friends with Rev. Charles Jacobs, the new Methodist minister in the little town of Harlowe, Maine. Rev. Jacobs is no ordinary reverend. He has a rather fascinating hobby—the study of electricity and its applications, which he carries out in his garage. In addition to tinkering with electronics and building a mechanical model town, one of his more impressive achievements is using low voltage electricity to heal Jamie’s brother, who lost his voice in an accident. But, alas, Rev. Jacobs can’t heal everything. Soon after he heals Jamie’s brother, he gets word that his wife and son have both been killed in a horrific car accident. In response, he angrily denounces God and religion to his mortified congregation, and consequently loses both his job and his place in the community. After he leaves town, Jamie Morton fears he will never see his friend again, but Fate, it seems, has other plans. Throughout the rest of Jamie’s life, the two keep running into each other in the strangest of circumstances. Although Jamie grows up to become a wash-out musician, his personality and occupation pretty much remain the same. Jacobs, however, turns out to be a chameleon. The first time the two run into each other is at the fairgrounds, where Jacobs is working as a maker of magical “Lightning Portraits.” Years after that, they meet again. This time, Jacobs has once again taken up the mantle of religion, and is now “healing” people at revivals. At their third and last meeting, Jacobs is a wealthy, reclusive old man who tells Jamie a secret: ever since the deaths of his wife and son, he has been pursuing potestas magnum universum, “the force that powers the universe,” which he believes can be harvested through lightning strikes. He then proposes an outrageous experiment: once he has harnessed this energy, he will use it to look beyond death, into the afterlife. Unfortunately for both of them, the consequences of the experiment turn out to be more terrifying than anyone can imagine.

As someone who deeply disliked King’s last novel, Joyland, I can happily report that the author gets back on track in this latest offering. Revival is essentially a Frankenstein story that builds on Mary Shelley’s premise: one man defies God. How does he do it, and what are the consequences? If you’re already a Stephen King fan, or simply enjoy slow, ponderous pieces with plenty of creep factor, I will definitely recommend trying out Revival.

A Strong, Diverse Collection of Horror and Psychological Intrigue

Source: Author Website

The Carvings Collection: Ten Stories of Horror and Suspense by Drake Vaughn (Dead Orb Press, 2013, 220pp.)

A self-righteous vigilante determined to punish a man for a mercy killing. A giant flying cockroach that terrorizes and decapitates hapless high school stoners. A salesman who puts his marketing skills to the test when confronted by a cannibalistic rock star diva of Faustian proportions. A gang of bullies that run amok in a vampire brothel. All this, and more, can you find in Drake Vaughn’s new short story collection, The Carvings Collection. 

Sound varied? It is. It’s kind of like your little chocolate box o’ horrors: it simply runs the gamut when it comes to the genre. It opens with the nursery-time tale of terror, “Dolls,” and follows up with the high school slasher story, “Master Key.” Next, is a Hostel-like tale of revenge and captivity (“In the Chair”), a tale or two of black magic (“Carvings,” “Sales”), a cautionary tale for young people about trespassing (“The Garden”), a few surprising pieces of social commentary (“Driver’s Seat,” “The Test,” “Trip to V-Town,”), and last but not least, the parasite-ridden sci-fi creep-fest, “Flatheads.”

While I certainly savored some stories more than others, this is, overall, a strong, diverse collection of horror and psychological intrigue. I would recommend it for any fan of the horror genre, and for fans of Vaughn’s earlier novel, The Zombie Generation.

Classics Advisory: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Source: Publisher Website

Happy Samhain, good readers! In honor of my all-time favorite holiday, I have a special Halloween treat for you all. Starting with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I will occasionally review old classics and advise which readers may be interested in them. Classics aren’t for everyone, and some of them are almost unpalatable to modern taste—but there are some that are as appealing today as they were to their original audiences. So without further ado, my review of Stevenson’s classic…

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (1886; Signet Classics, 2012, 144pp.)

“There sprang up ... in the lawyer’s mind a singularly strong, almost an inordinate, curiosity to behold the features of the real Mr. Hyde.”

Two years before Jack the Ripper’s killing spree held sway over London’s East End, Robert Louis Stevenson penned a short, brutish tale about the darkness that lurks within even the kindliest of men. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a frame story, meaning that it’s a story within a story, within a story. It’s told partly through narration, and partly through a series of documents that characters leave for one another to read. It begins with Mr. Utterson, a lawyer and compatriot to the successful chemist Dr. Henry Jekyll, who is investigating his friend’s connection to one Edward Hyde. Hyde is a fiendish man who has made several memorable appearances in the neighborhood. He is “pale and dwarfish,” someone who “[gives] an impression of deformity without any nameable malformation...” He carries himself with “a sort of murderous mixture of timidity and boldness,” and speaks “with a husky, whispering and somewhat broken voice...” (12). His is a frightening, almost caricatured portrait of the very epitome of ill will. He literally tramples people underfoot should they cross his path on the street, and at one point, beats a man to death in a senseless fit of rage. Utterson’s cause for concern stems from the sudden change Jekyll has made to his will, instructing that in the event of his “sudden disappearance,” his entire estate is to be put at the disposal of Mr. Hyde. As Utterson continues his investigation, he soon realizes that there’s an even stranger connection between the two men that he had ever dreamed possible...

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you will of course know exactly what that connection is: Jekyll is Hyde (and vice versa)! Jekyll’s very transformation from mild-mannered doctor to fiendish “juggernaut” is a reminder that even the most pleasant and presentable among us could be hiding a foul interior. Stevenson’s tale is a marvelous little work, excellent for Halloween readings and other spooky occasions. While it has plenty of creep factor to it, it’s still pretty tame when compared to Stephen King’s stuff. The downside for Dr. J and Mr. H is that as a novella, it’s really too short to do anything other than explore its premise, leaving its characters as little more than bare sketches on the page.

A Chilling First Novel by a Master Writer

Carrie by Stephen King (1974; Anchor, 2013, 320pp.)

Everyone’s seen the movie. Or if not, you’re definitely aware of the infamous prom scene. No? Then let me recap: Carrie White, high school reject, is being charitably crowned prom queen by the student body—but at the height of the ceremony, someone dumps a bucket of pig’s blood on her. She then reacts as any angst-ridden, humiliated teenager might: she simply goes nuts and sets the town on fire with her awesome telekinetic powers. A fictional case study, Carrie interweaves story with “historical” documents that examine the devastating tragedy long after it occurs. As King’s first novel, Carrie acts as an excellent gateway to the rest of King’s work about the supernaturally inclined.

A Disturbing Yet Very Human Portrait of a Lost Soul

Shadowlands by Alan S. Kessler (Leviathan, 2013, 253pp.)

Love-starved, sociopathic Steve Goldblatt has had a terrible childhood. His mother viciously berates him, while his father beats him mercilessly for any minor transgression. Shortly after meeting bad-boy Dane, the newest addition to the neighborhood, Steve forms a fanatical devotion to this new “friend.” Shadowlands traces Steve’s life from elementary school to law school, drawing a disturbing, yet very human portrait of a lost soul. Although the pacing flags in the last third of the novel, the story as a whole is very readable, albeit with some VERY cringe-worthy moments. Recommended for fans of Kessler’s earlier novel, A Satan Carol, and other non-conventional works of horror.

Good, But Kind of Weird

The White Forest by Adam McOmber (Touchstone, 2012, 320pp.)

Set in Victorian London, The White Forest centers on a trio of friends: Nathan Ashe (son of a Parliament member), Madeleine Lee (daughter of a photographer socially exiled for his lascivious photography), and Jane Silverlake, whose mother went raving mad before dying an early death.

Jane, who serves as the novel’s narrator, has a special, if somewhat bizarre, ability to see the “souls” of inanimate, manmade objects. Furniture, pottery, and statues give off strange light and emit sounds, caused by what some would think of as an aural/auditory migraine (but isn’t). Even stranger is the fact that behind those objects lurks a hidden world, a kind of “backstage area” for the universe, if you will. The “White Forest,” as she calls it, is stark and barren and completely white.

Trouble begins after Nathan, who has become aware of Jane's “affliction,” discovers that by touching her bare skin, he too can see what she sees. Eager to know more about the universe itself, he encourages an ever reluctant Jane to experiment with her abilities. But the experiments change Nathan. Not satisfied with his contact with Jane, he enrolls in a cult led by the charismatic leader Ariston Day.

Day is a peculiar figure, one that the girls instantly dislike as Nathan describes their cult meetings to them. Day claims that cities like London are blights upon the natural world. Mankind will never reach enlightenment and understanding until civilization is razed to the ground, and the natural world is allowed to flourish. Weeks after joining the cult, Nathan vanishes. Maddy and Jane fear the worst, and set out to investigate his disappearance. But then Jane is contacted by Ariston Day himself. Nathan has told him about the White Forest, and he is very interested in getting to know Jane…

Although the premise is, yes, a little strange, the story works. It works primarily because of its firm roots in a very vividly described Victorian London, and from the interactions of the three main protagonists. But this sense of humanity is lost towards the end, as Jane is forced to physically leave her world and enter the White Forest (to save the world, of course). To put it simply, things in the White Forest get weird and stay weird from that point on. This is extremely unfortunate, because although the ending works well in context with the rest of the story, it’s still a bit disappointing. I can’t really tell you to stop 30 pages before the end, because the action leading up until that point is so suspenseful. So, despite these flaws, my verdict is: if you like spooky, creepy stories and Victorian London (and honestly, who doesn’t?) go ahead and give it a try.

Click on cover for image source.

Equal Parts “Omega Man” and “The Postman”

The Zombie Generation by Drake Vaughn (Dead Orb Press, 2012, 238pp.)

Plunk a man down in the middle of a nightmare zombie scenario, then arm him with only a Glock, a bottle of whiskey, and several dozen Furby-like children’s toys to defend himself with, and you’ve pretty much summed up Warner’s situation. To his knowledge, he and his girlfriend Pam are the only two people left in the world. An infection has spread, turning the rest of mankind into zombies. These despicable hordes share the genre’s normal hankering for brain matter, but Vaughn has made a few interesting additions to how his monsters behave. “Buggers,” as they’re referred to in the story, are more alive than undead. They’re also much less intelligent than the average person, and are easily distracted by obnoxious electronic children’s toys, such as the Googriff, a close cousin of the Furby. Although scientists claimed that the infection was not spread through blood or saliva, Warner’s pretty sure that’s not the case. After he’s scratched by one of the buggers, he immediately begins having blackouts and unusual cravings. Determined to hold on to his humanity, he frantically begins searching for a cure that may or may not exist. While the story’s pacing drags a bit in places, Warner’s plight—equal parts Omega Man and The Postman—is still interesting enough to hold the reader’s attention to the tale’s gory conclusion.

Similar Books:

• The Postman by David Brin

For Lovers of the Creepy, Surreal, Unconventional, and Strange

A Satan Carol by Alan S. Kessler (Wild Child Publishing, 2011, 257pp.)

In Kessler’s A Satan’s Carol, Satan was always God’s favorite son—that is, until his annoying brother, Jesus, came into the picture. Now he spends most of his time in the world of his own creation, a bizarre facsimile of Earth called Shinyland 7 where his human subjects do what humans do best—make each other totally and completely miserable.

Even though he’s been cast aside in favor of the “Chosen One,” Satan still has hopes to please his father and convince him that he, too, is capable of doing good. As Jesus Christ was mankind’s savior, Satan plans to father a son who will become the messiah for Shinyland 7. In his efforts, Satan manages to produce one son, Pal, but the child is soulless and inanimate, hardly worthy of catching God’s attention, let alone capturing the attention of the unwashed multitudes. To secure his son’s rightful place as messiah, Satan next searches for the Golden Soul, a singular, special soul that will, in essence, make Pal a “real boy.”

Free will plays a big part in the story. In Kessler’s fictional universe, free will belongs to everything—including the Golden Soul. So, naturally, even Satan’s best laid plans go awry. The Soul has no interest in Pal, but instead sees greater promise in the unborn child of Katie Katz, the spoiled daughter of a lawyer. This puts a slight hitch in Satan’s plans, but it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before—after all, he can be very persuasive with people when he wants to be.

Instead of giving his story a fast-paced plot, Kessler slowly, but carefully, traces the psychological paths of a group of characters who are pawns in the devil’s master plan.

I’ll just go ahead and say it: Everyone in the story is pretty much damned, or is otherwise in serious danger of becoming damned. Most are just plain, ordinary people who fight against Satan’s influence: the girl, Katie, who is considering an abortion; her father, a repentant criminal attorney who considers suicide after a lifetime of wrong-doing; a pesky, deeply religious farmer who keeps muddling with Satan’s plans—just to name a few. Others have become Satan’s willing minions, including a seriously creepy abortion doctor who sold his soul in exchange for acceptance into medical school.

It’s not a story for everyone, but for lovers of the creepy, surreal, unconventional, and strange, definitely an original and interesting read. Recommended for fans of H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King.

“Supernatural Noir” is a Little Too Light On the “Noir”

Supernatural Noir edited by Ellen Datlow (Dark Horse, 2011, 336pp.)

“Supernatural” and “Noir.” Not two genres you would normally put together—especially since one deals with witches and magic and the other deals almost exclusively with the detective story sub-genre. Put them together and you get Supernatural Noir, a collection of 16 stories that attempt to examine the human condition by placing their subjects in mysterious, fantastical, and quite often horrifying circumstances. The trouble is, each author interprets this new genre differently. All pieces contain noir to some degree, but the genres of the collection overall aren’t well balanced. Some stories lean more towards fantasy/horror, while others are so bare of these elements that you almost miss the required “supernatural” aspect. The best stories, in my opinion, are the ones that focus more on what makes these characters human than the fantasy/horror elements. Some in the collection do this quite well. Others are more intent on fleshing out plot-driven tales. It’s really up to the reader to decide who hit the nail on the head, and who missed completely. A word of warning: this is not for the casual fan of dark fantasy and horror. Some of the pieces are very strange, and more than a little morbid. Recommended for mature readers, as some pieces may contain adult themes.

A Haunting Thriller from Japan

Ring (Ring #1) by Koji Suzuki (1991; Vertical, 2004, 282pp.)

A reporter named Asakawa learns that his niece’s sudden death occurred after she watched a bizarre videotape. After finding and watching this same tape, he learns that he has seven days to solve the mystery presented in the tape’s contents before he, too, meets a similar fate. While the whole idea of a haunted videotape may find some readers rolling their eyes, Ring deserves applause for the execution of its premise. The mystery unfolds at a careful, brooding pace, and opts to unsettle readers with its creepy atmosphere rather than waste time with quick thrills. While most of the characters fall a little flat, readers will definitely be entertained by the antics of Asakawa’s friend Ryuji, an eccentric, Puck-like figure who helps in his search for answers. Ring was the inspiration for a successful franchise that includes the 1998 Japanese film, Ringu, and its 2002 American remake.

Click on cover for image source.

Bland and Predictable

The House of Lost Souls by F.G. Cottam (Thomas Dunne Books, 2009, 352pp.)

Eager to help his girlfriend conduct research for her dissertation on an obscure female photographer, journalist Paul Seaton visits the Fischer House, one of his subject’s old haunts, on the Isle of Wight. His findings are unexpected: turns out the Fischer House is haunted. No wonder, since it used to be the cavorting grounds for a Satanic cult, as well as the site of an unspeakable crime. After barely surviving his encounter with the house’s ghostly inhabitants, Seaton swears never to return. Ten years later, however, he learns that the lives of four young women depend on him revisiting the place. The author tries to maintain a sense of mystery by presenting events in a non-chronological order, but this method instead leaves the reader confused. The storyline meanders through a series of forgettable events and people until it tumbles to a halt with its anticlimactic excuse for an ending. To the novel’s credit, it has some genuinely creepy moments and elements of intrigue that spur the reader onward in hopes that the story will only get better. It doesn’t. If the term “well fleshed-out” signifies a character that is fully developed, then Cottam’s characters are positively skeletal. They lack substance and remain strangers to the reader until the bitter end. Recommended for those who don't mind a slow-moving, creepy read.

Click on cover for image source.

Offers a Fresh Twist to the Bloodsucker Genre

Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist (Thomas Dunne, 2007, 480pp.)

Vampires cannot enter a victim’s home unless they are invited—so the myths tell us. Poor, bullied Oskar finds this true enough after he discovers that his next door neighbor is really a creature of the night. Set in 1980s Sweden, this international bestseller tends to drag a bit in places, but nonetheless adds a fresh twist to the bloodsucker genre. Using vampiric lore as a metaphor for learning how to “let the right one” into your heart, Lindqvist explores how life takes its toll on people living in a lonesome, alienating society. Originally published in Sweden in 2004 and basis for the 2008 Swedish film Låt den rätte komma in.

Eight Hours of Your Life that You Will Never Get Back

The Ruins by Scott Smith (Vintage, 2008, 528pp.)

Two couples vacationing in Cancun decide to help out a fellow tourist when he confides that his brother, who went to visit a girlfriend at an archeological dig in the Mexican jungle, has not yet returned as expected. Despite severe discouragement from the locals, they set out for the dig site (located at an obscure Mayan ruin) and straight into the jaws of doom. A lightweight horror/thriller, this is the literary equivalent of every slasher film out there. While the novel’s primary villain (a man-eating vine) is creepy and interesting, the novel itself might have fared better in the hands of another, more mature veteran writer (Stephen King comes to mind). While the story setup is intriguing enough to keep the pages turning, the two-dimensional characters are dull and uninteresting. Their habit of making continuous, no-brainer mistakes grates on the nerves. (For example, instead of using the three bottles of tequila they have on hand to set the killer vine aflame, they decide to get drunk instead). While some may argue that the downer ending (everyone dies!) is consistent with the horror genre, it's really just the icing on top of a really bad piece of confectionery. It's not even a good story, but just like every other scary campfire story account of bad things that happen to stupid people. Most readers with any literary taste will probably rue the day they decided to waste eight hours of their lives on this ruin of a novel.

Click on cover for image source.