The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir

After finishing this one, I thought, "well that was a sweet little horror novel." I'm not sure I can verbalize why sweet is the best word, but it really is. 

Maybe it's Mary Robinette Kowal's subtle hints of humor alongside the terror in her voice as she narrates Iðunn (pronounced Ethun) in Knútsdóttir's novella. I rooted for Iðunn and was horrified alongside her as events unfolded. I wanted Iðunn to wake up feeling refreshed, not like she just walked 5 miles or wrestled a bear. What other explanation could there be for the soreness, bruises on her body, and blood under her nails night after night?

Maybe it's the book's format of 100+ chapters - but many just a single sentence. It was nice not needing pages and pages of explanation and exposition. It's really quite simple, Iðunn isn't sleeping well. In her journey to figure out why, she tries psychotherapy, sleeping pills, insomnia, dating distraction, GPS, and a step-counting app. Despite the overall brevity, Knútsdóttir still managed to create someone you care for and seem to know pretty well. 

It definitely wasn't the sinister undertone of Iðunn's morning revelations.

Or the cats.

And it wasn't the reveal. Definitely not the reveal, which I'm a little flummoxed by, to be honest.

But somehow, at the end of the day, I was able to listen to this novella in a few hours and got a fun head scratcher out of it. Unconventionally, horrifically, sweet. 

I Was A Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones

 

This is an unusual take of the slasher genre that I found refreshing. Is that an appropriate word to use when talking about slashers? Probably not, but I'm not sure what would work better...it was gruesomely delightful. How's that?

I can't say it's the first of its kind - the story reminds me of Scream, or even, to a lesser extent, Cabin in the Woods, where there was a comical self-awareness of the genre embedded in the story. 

I was a Teenage Slasher is narrated by Tolly Driver, who was a teenager in a small town in Texas in 1989. He's looking back and telling us how he became a slasher whose killing spree ended up spawning the to be expected media storm but also a movie! If there's a trope involved in slasher stories, it will likely be in this book, but in a tongue and cheek way. And while Tolly isn't super knowledgeable about horror and slasher lore, his best friend, Amber, is. 

The event that preceeds Tolly's metamorphosis is a story in itself...a revenge massacre that is too out there to believe. And after that night, Tolly experiences strange symptoms that seem to give him superpowers, like night vision and super strength. But with these enhancements come a realization that they aren't to be used for good. Tolly and Amber try to understand what is going on and to prevent him from acting out, but nothing seems to stop his transformation. It's inevitable and there are rules that must be followed. But can he learn the rules and circumvent them somehow?

One comment about Tolly's narration, he speaks in a way that I found difficult to follow. His thoughts seemed disjointed and lacking in context. There were also a lot of characters who would say something and then say, "what" at the end, which I didn't really get. For example: "She break up with you already, what?" I don't know if that's a regional thing or not, but it seemed strange.

Or there would be a phrase or description I just didn't get, like this one: "We went all the way down to the gate then walked back along the fence to take the steps up like a citizen." Or there was this sentence, "Too, though?"

I think it's partially Tolly's way of speaking but there were a lot of these little things I'd come upon while reading that just made the book a little harder to get through. The story itself was okay, but more a vehicle to explore the premise, which is what I really enjoyed. It was overall a fun and clever read.   

City of Nightmares by Rebecca Schaeffer

I have to admit, this book gave me at least one nightmare. It wasn't the worst I'd ever had, but it involved dead puppies, so it was pretty bad.

It's not that I found the book to be scary, per se, but the premise is a great one for a horror movie: For reasons unknown, if people have a nightmare, they will wake up and become their nightmare. This could mean a variety of things. Some people just disappear, so no one really knows what their nightmare was. Some people turn into things like giant man-eating spiders and cockroaches that must be killed, so they also die. But some people live as nightmares, like the mayor's pet pterodactyl or Vanessa Near's boss, who is a lizard. This also means that we are in a world where there are vampires, and there are at least a dozen varieties, based on the person's idea of what a vampire is with variations from aversions to garlic, sunlight, or silver, the inability to show a reflection, or the ability to turn other people into vampires (the only strain people are concerned with eradicating). 

There is a way to combat this from happening, besides already having a nightmare, which seems to prevent future transitions, there are nightmare-prevention drugs and even a water-additive in more populous areas. But of course, there are issues with these measures, first of which I am personally prone to - forgetting to take your meds. But also there is the fact that alcohol inhibits the effects of these drugs, so I'm sure you can guess how well that goes over.

Besides all of this, our setting is basically Gotham. Not literally, but Newham (which I think might be in England somewhere) is rife with dirty politicians, an over-active underground, and even pseudo-superheroes. It's basically an anything-goes kind of place. 

So I mentioned Vanessa Near. This is her story. She is living and working with a group (cult?) that helps people with PTSD from nightmares. Vanessa's sister became a nightmare and was killed and Vanessa has not been able to move past the fear and anxiety this has caused her. So she works to help others and lives in a small, isolated room where she feels safe. Her life is uncomfortable, but stable. 

Vanessa ends up surviving a bombing and making friends with a living nightmare, which challenges a lot of her beliefs. As she tries to figure out why the bombing occurred, she has to navigate the underworld of Newham and overcome a lot of her own issues. 

And this is where the book loses me a little. I started to get annoyed with Vanessa, or Ness, about half-way through. She makes a big deal about what a coward she is, so much so, it's kind of a running joke throughout the book. Fine, I get it. But some of her reactions to things are so over the top, I started making notes, like "really?!" "still?" and "these reactions are dumb." 

I also probably should have realized sooner that the book is a bit tongue in cheek. So when some of the more over-the-top things were happening, I was more annoyed than amused. I think if I had caught on a little sooner, I might have had a different reaction. I don't know if it was me not getting it, or if there was something about the writing that was keeping me from getting it.

I also felt that some of the conversations were lacking. Like when Ness is psychoanalyzing one of the villains and telling them why people get jealous - which is because they're afraid of their partner leaving them and being lonely and because they're insecure. Truth. I don't disagree with this. But it came across as some ingenious monologue that disarms the villain. I don't know, I wasn't blown away. I felt like there were several exchanges like this. But this is a YA book, so I'll give Schaeffer some forgiveness for that.

And just as I was getting annoyed about half way, two thirds in, Schaeffer redeemed herself. I felt the ending was satisfying. And while Ness was lackluster and captain obvious, she has an encounter that provides some explanation for the nightmare world that came through for me. Schaeffer ends on a bit of a cliff-hanger and I think I'll hang on for the next one - maybe a little better prepared now that I understand her writing style.

And the Sea Called Her Name by Joe Hart

This is a great novella from Joe Hart about two people who start starry eyed, like any other couple, but slowly grow apart. Set on the blustery Maine coast, Hart describes Jason and Delphi in a quaint home on the seashore, with the cold, dark ocean just beyond their doorstep. We see events through Jason's eyes. A reluctant fisherman following in the steps of his father, Jason wants nothing more than to provide for his wife, Delphi, and build a family. But as Delphi becomes despondent and her behavior stranger and more unexplainable, Jason is hard pressed for any answer that makes sense.

After reading it, I thought, "Okaaaay?" As the ending was a bit fantastic for my taste. But then I read a blurb at the end that Hart wrote about what inspired the story. And that made me appreciate it a lot more. And my heart actually ached a little bit more, not just for Jason and Delphi, but for anyone who has experienced similar devastation, or alienation from a loved one, or complete loss. The symbolism Hart uses to show Jason and Delphi's unraveling is so out there, it shows the extreme ruin people go through emotionally.

So I guess I missed the point until Hart told me what it was. But a little reminder every now and then to look deeper than the surface is ok. And what better place to delve into the depths than the cold, black, sea.

Horrorstor by Grady Hendrix

Why do people like this book? Am I missing something?

I get it. Bad writing and an improbable plot that could also operate as a pasta strainer have united like a defective pair of power twins before to create cult successes (I'm looking at you Sharknado). And really, there is a whole genre of bad horror films...but does it work with books, too? I'm not a horror book reader, so I'm sincerely asking.

Why do people think this book is so scary? Creepy kids? Scary. Does this book have creepy kids?

No.

Psychological drama? Can be scary. Like when someone thinks they're going crazy because they are seeing things other aren't. Or when they hear things other people don't. Does this book have psychological drama?

No.

Clowns? Scary. Does this book have clowns?

No.

Ghosts? Okay, now we're talking. This book has ghosts! However, they aren't Japanese or Korean ghosts, and we all know those are the scariest kind. And IDGAF if I'm spoiling anything, because this book is so bad, I'm doing you a favor. If you read it anyway after you read this review, you deserve to have it spoiled for the poor decision making skills you are exhibiting.

So there are ghosts. But (okay, I'll indulge you) *SPOILER ALERT* they're not scary.

And the plot? The plot, you ask? We have a handful of characters who are written as caricatures that we care little about. They work in an IKEA knock-off store that might be haunted and spend a night there figuring it all out. There's a homeless guy/possible ghost living in the store, but that's never resolved or really followed up on. In fact, it was like Hendrix was going in one direction and then forgot what he previously wrote and decided to completely change tack, so he killed the homeless guy and we are left wondering how he fit into the story at all. But maybe he was a ghost...one character wonders at the end. This is Hendrix's idea of resolution, I guess.

I won't go into any more holes in the plot. Suffice it to say you will find less in a heroin addict's arms after nickel night in the back alley.

I think the only good thing about this book is the actual book, which is made to look like an IKEA catalogue, complete with a store map and product drawings and descriptions. But I read the audiobook, so...

The dialogue was boring and humorless, and the only reason I finished the book is because it was short and I wanted credit for my cannonball goal. So here's my review and now I can move on with my life.

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay

"How can ghosts be in your head?" my four-year-old asked me one day. I had been talking to my husband about this book, and my son overheard me. "Uhhh..." I began. How do you explain something like that to a kid? I tried my best with a preschool explanation of this book's title, all the while realizing that for many people, the topics in this book are not abstract at all, but disturbingly real.

While not a ghost story, this book is frightening. Told from the perspective of Merry Barrett, in her early twenties in the present day, the heart of this tale occurs fifteen years earlier, when Merry is 8. It is at this time that Merry's 14 year-old sister, Marjorie, spirals into darkness. Once Merry's playmate and confidant, Marjorie changes, her behavior turning more and more menacing. Stories Marjorie once made up of friendly animals turn to stories of monsters and death. Normal sisterly playtime is replaced with cryptic notes and nightly visits by Marjorie to Merry's bedroom as she sleeps. Although Merry keeps these things to herself, her parents take notice as well. Merry's mother believes Marjorie is sick and needs the help of medical and psychological doctors. Merry's father, however, seeks spiritual guidance.

What seems like any family, yours or mine, suddenly seems like any family you'd rather not be. Trembley writes the Barretts in such an accessible way, driving home the delicate balance upon which all our lives hang. The contrast between the sweet innocence of young Merry and the shocking devlishness of Marjorie is written so well, you'll find yourself as afraid as poor Merry was of what Marjorie will do next.

The story tilts toward the hyperrealistic side when Tremblay introduces an element that unfortunately is becoming all too familiar, reality TV. In a desperate attempt to save Marjorie, Merry's father teams with a production company to televise the family's life as they prepare to perform an exorcism. Yes. I said exorcism.

If this makes you want to check out, don't let it. It's not clear one way or another if Marjorie has schizophrenia or is in fact possessed. Regardless of the true diagnosis, the fact that both possibilities could present themselves similarly is what's truly terrifying and intriguing about this story.

There are a lot of angles in this book, and it keeps the story dynamic. Whether you relate with Merry as a child or an adult, or with her mother, father, or even Marjorie, you'll be just as eager to see everything unfold as if you were watching the family on reality television yourself (but because it's a book, it's even better!).

Definitely a solid recommend, I couldn't put it down.

And I hope that's a better explanation of the book than I gave my son.