Throughout my years of reading, I’ve stumbled across books that felt less like stories and more like whispered confessions—intimate, unsettling, and inescapable. Visions by Troy James Weaver is exactly that kind of book. It is a dark, relentless coming-of-age tale drenched in existential dread and religious fervor, a portrait of a young mind spiraling into something far greater—and far more dangerous—than himself.

Weaver, known for his transgressive and deeply introspective storytelling, wields a sharp, minimalist prose style that makes every word hit like a hammer to the skull. Visions is no exception. The book unfolds in clipped, feverish bursts—shifting between the protagonist’s daily life and his increasingly disturbing journal entries, where dreams and reality blur into an intoxicating, almost biblical hallucination.

The story follows a boy whose life is shaped by trauma, faith, and isolation. But unlike many who build walls to shut out the horrors of the world, he dreams of building a shelter—a sanctuary. And not just for himself. His mind, fragmented yet determined, begins laying the foundations for something grander. A congregation. A following. A cult.

As his thoughts become more erratic and his desires more divine, the reader is left questioning whether his visions are prophetic or the product of unchecked psychological turmoil.

That’s the opening line. If it doesn’t grip you instantly, nothing will.

This is not a book for the faint of heart. Visions is raw, unsettling, and deeply introspective. It forces you into the mind of a person at the precipice of something awful and asks you to sit with that discomfort. Weaver’s ability to create such a vivid, spiraling descent into madness is nothing short of masterful.

I read it slowly, deliberately, savoring each passage like a shot of something strong. Not because I couldn’t read it in one sitting—I absolutely could have—but because I needed time to absorb it. To process it. To come up for air.

I loved Visions, even when it disturbed me. Maybe because it disturbed me. If you’re looking for something bold, something transgressive, something that will take root in your mind long after you close the book, I highly recommend it.