sleepingwtlo's reviews
9 reviews

Rather like that episode of Friends where Joey gets a little too attached to the thesaurus feature on the laptop.

There’s something oppressive about Yeji Y. Ham’s writing - and I mean that in a very complimentary way. We come to Yewon at a point where she is already struggling; her relationships with her family are strained, her friend is living the life they planned together without her, her workplace has closed down, and, of course, there’s the war and the trauma - both current and generational - that comes with it. She is surrounded by things that are out of her control, and it pushes her out of herself, making her as much an observer as we are. All the while, Ham tugs at all these individual elements bit by bit - adding memories, moments of clarity and despair - creating scenes that often overwhelm with feeling, before culminating in dream visits to the crumbling hotel where Yewon’s fears become manifest. It’s quite powerful, and successfully shows how things build and spiral, until something small becomes a very large trigger.

The plot is fairly minimal, which won’t appeal to everyone - we’re certainly leaning more towards a moment in time kind of feel to this one, rather than a specific adventure - and the horror is much less pronounced than one might expect, given it’s marketing. And yet I still found The Invisible Hotel beautiful, eerie, and more than a little sad.

Set against the perpetual threat of war between North and South Korea, Yeji Y. Ham’s The Invisible Hotel reminds us that there’s horror in the day to day too - in grief, in changing relationships, and in debilitating uncertainty. The ongoing conflict might be a common thread, linking and lurking in equal measure, but it isn’t the only terror waiting behind the locked doors of Yewon’s hotel.

Brian Asman’s Our Black Hearts Beat As One is a bloody blend of magical realism and urban horror, fronted by a lead character who - honestly - is a bit of an asshole. Not that that’s a bad thing.

Supported by an engaging cast of side characters, it’s a quick romp through a wonderfully dark and descriptive world. All good horror should tug on the emotions, and Our Black Hearts Beat As One sets its sights on love. And it largely succeeds, with Mike gradually coming to understand that heartbreak is a part of life - even if it did take an encounter with an ancient god to do it.

Could we have benefited more from seeing the ex-girlfriend’s perspective? Maybe. A plot line with Mike exploring and accepting why she left

, rather than (spoiler) finding someone else

might have said more and shown more character development.

There’s also scope for further exploration of the dark magic and mythologies at the heart of this novella. Trying to pack a wholly new system of gods and magic into such a small page count was perhaps too much of a tall order. But we’re dealing with a short - and not so sweet - horror here, so while Our Black Hearts Beat As One could have given us more, Asman still packs plenty into what we have.

Come for the dark arts, but stay for the love stories. 

Lonely kid Hailey is dropped off at a holiday camp at – of all places – an abandoned shopping mall. But today, there’s a new girl. Her name is Jen, and together she and Hailey break away from the group and start exploring the mall. Meanwhile, two boys from the camp are also making their way around the building, and they’ve discovered something frightening…

Starting off with an almost kids-on-bikes vibe, before descending into fantastic monster-fare, Chris Gooch‘s In Utero is a brilliantly realised graphic novel.

Though Hailey and Jen are centered, there’s much more at play here, as the boys’ discovery sets off a chain reaction of events that eventually comes crashing down on the new friends. Their bonding is integral though, with both navigating difficult – though very different – relationships with their mothers. Jen never knew hers, while Hailey’s is working through a tough divorce, leaving both girls with plenty of feelings to push through, blissfully unaware of the soldiers and scientists in hazmat suits pulling up at the mall.

In Utero also looks beautiful. Junji Ito fans will definitely see artistic nods to the horror manga great, and the wonderful 3D glasses style of art, with red and blue washes, feels like an homage to classic monster movies and kids magazines, as well as a clever way to evoke the disorientation felt when looking through them. It’s a really great stylistic choice.

Suitable for older kids – if they’re old enough for Stranger Things, they’ll love this – In Utero is a solid graphic horror novel. Accessible, beautiful, and emotive, it packs a lot into its short page count. Perfect for monster fans, and for anyone who likes their horror with a hefty dose of sci-fi and feelings. 

 

The first in the Selected Papers from the Consortium for the Study of Anomalous Phenomena series, Kate Maruyama’s Bleak Houses showcases two very different homes haunted in very different ways.

Safer was an engaging read, with its lockdown setting and reminder that the living pose far more dangers than the dead. That’s not to say it’s light on the scares - Maruyama strikes a great balance between the ghosts that haunt Soledad’s new residence, and the dark truth that haunts the family that lives there. A lot is packed into its short page count, including a genuinely quite thrilling final chase.

But of the two stories, Family Solstice was the one for me. Maruyama builds the lore of Shea’s family so beautifully, and the tale itself has twists and turns galore as we - and Shea - discover the truth of what lives in the Massey’s basement. Family Solstice is generational trauma made manifest; an ancient, manipulative evil that no family member is exempt from.

Fans of short horror stories would do well to keep an eye on this ongoing series from Raw Dog Screaming Press. 

 Having read (and thoroughly enjoyed) the first in the Selected Papers from the Consortium for the Study of Anomalous Phenomena collection (what a glorious mouthful!), Kate Maruyama’s Bleak Houses, I was excited to jump back in with L. Marie Wood’s 12 Hours.

From start to surprisingly emotional finish, 12 Hours is a wild ride. Opening with a cabbie trapped in his own car as he - and we, albeit heart-wrenchingly quicker - works out what has happened, Wood’s novella is an absolute masterclass in suspense, reveals, and the more emotive side of horror.

As he awaits rescue, we learn more and more about him. His life, his loves, his mistakes - a life literally flashing before our eyes in an almost stream of consciousness from the trapped man. No better nor worse than the average person, Wood places a seemingly banal cabbie into the centre of a psychological horror, and the final result kept me glued to every single one of its 80 pages.

With two such strong starts from the CSAP papers (sorry but I’m not typing that out again!), I can’t wait to see what the next instalment - Sarah Hans’ Asylum - brings to the table.

Let’s start by saying that the premise of Caveat Emptor is really quite brilliant. A real estate agent stuck with a dangerously haunted house on his books is a great concept, with room for humour, heartbreak, and, of course, horror.

And author Devon De’Ath (see what he did there?) does horror well - and thank goodness for that. There’s some genuinely gruesome set pieces at play here, and a flair for writing encroaching dread that had me continuing to read even when other elements had me wanting to consign this one to the DNF pile. I, unlike reluctant agent David, was all too eager to return to Meoria Grange, and see what horrors awaited its next owners.

But, of course, there are those aforementioned other elements - and, friendly reminder given that I’ve seen no end of five-star reviews for Caveat Emptor, feel free to chalk these up to personal preference. Like what you like, friends.

With the novel taking place over several decades, De’Ath works hard to evoke different eras from chapter to chapter. Unfortunately, these constant references to contemporary technology, awkward slang, and time-relevant events started to grate after a while. The prose is already pretty description heavy, and it just felt like another layer that didn’t need to be there - a simple '“February 1985” as a chapter title would have have had much the same effect, especially given that this should be a story about David and the house, not about the period they’re in.

Indeed, as a whole, Caveat Emptor feels like a missed opportunity. It is absolutely about what the blurb says it’s about, sure, but having David spend more time at the house, researching it further each time it returns to the market, and even showing more potential buyers (read: potential victims) around the property would have gone a long way. Instead, David just goes about his day until the final reveal - and, at the risk of sounding a lot like his ex-wife, David is rather dull.

Speaking of the ex-wife, this brings me, unfortunately, to my biggest gripe with Caveat Emptor. Its women.

Women are, most frequently, the subject of the house’s most violent attacks, and, given the way the finale plays out, this does make sense. But I was deeply uncomfortable with the cartoonishly evil characterisation of David’s ex-wife Kate, the over sexualised descriptions of his eighteen year old daughter Amanda,

and the casual fridging of psychic Sable.

Even if we allow for Sable’s death within the storyline

, and we accept that Kate is, in fact, just a colossal bitch, the characterisation of and writing around Amanda remains a huge issue for me. We have too much enthusiastic description of her (teenage) body and the way it moves

, while Amanda herself is depicted as almost deserving of her awful fate that befalls her - something that doesn’t seem to match up with De’Ath’s decision to make it clear that it’s Kate’s influence that’s made her this way. Personally, I think she’s just a teenager - and even that doesn’t warrant what happens to her in the cellar of Meoria Grange.

I’d also like to think that, even if my ex-wife had turned my daughter against me in the years since our divorce, I’d at least put up a bit of a fight before letting her live in a house haunted by something so frighteningly violent. David, it seems, doesn’t see the point in trying - save for sharing a few scary stories during their viewing.

Until Kate and Amanda came to view the house,

I might have written Caveat Emptor off as a serviceable horror. The writing wasn’t particularly to my taste, but the scares were solid - as I said, De’Ath nails the horror sequences - and the concept felt too good to pass up. But, just as they entered Meoria Grange and sealed their fates, so too did Caveat Emptor seal its own.

Tyler Jones’ Heavy Oceans is a brief yet brutal slice of horror sci-fi. Spanning just one horrific night, it’s fast-paced and gloriously gory; you can almost hear the snap of bones, the slap of tentacles, and the squelch of squished entrails.

Impressive horror set-pieces sit alongside Jamie’s recollections of growing up with Eric. That Eric has always been troubled is clear, but as Heavy Oceans unfolds, it emerges just who - or what - he’s been running from for all these years.

Blending good ol’ fashioned blood and guts with elements of the cosmic, Heavy Oceans is proof positive that the best things often do come in small packages.

Review copy supplied by NetGalley. 

 There’s a lot to love about Allison A’s debut novel The Noise. Eerie, engaging, and often rather gory, it’s a nifty little horror that grips you from the get-go. Paying homage in part to The Yellow Wallpaper, it’s a wonderfully twisty tale about the things that haunt us - and what haunts them.

There’s more than a whiff of the Gothic about The Noise, with Angela and Jack’s new digs filling in for the traditional crumbling manor house, and our isolated heroine struggling to balance the emotional and the supernatural with the rather more rational. After all, she has been through a lot - maybe it really is just all in her head.

With a compelling lead character, an array of frightening apparitions, and a twist you might see coming (not that that’s a bad thing), The Noise is a really solid read. Throwing a few emotional punches along the way, it’ll scratch the itch of anyone who likes their horror with a bit of heart.

Free review copy supplied by NetGalley.