Feb 6 - Feb 9, 2012

Blood Road
Edo Van Belkom
Horror
Published 2004
317 pages

9.5/10

  Hitchhiking across Canada just become even more dangerous, because there's a trucker out there who will do some bad BAD things to you before he kills you... and he's had a lot of time to hone his craft.  So if you're a pretty young thing trying to get away from a bad situation at home like Amanda Peck, consider saving up for a Greyhound ticket before you throw caution to the wind and decide to stand on the side of the road with your thumb out...

  This had all the makings of a pulp horror novel - an evil monster, a helpless victim, an asshole of a boyfriend, a likable gumshoe detective determined to crack the case, all wrapped up in an innocuous paperback with a pun on the cover.  But I hesitate to call this pulp, because it was too damn good, and too damn surprising to entirely fit into that category.  The evil monster (while horrifying) is also nearly pathetic; the helpless victim doesn't wait around to be rescued and takes matters into her own hands; the asshole decides to get his shit together; the gumshoe... well, he's still that, but he's likable because he's written well, not because he's some clumsy Clouseau-esque inspector simply penciled in for a laugh. 

  As for the pun on the cover, well, I fucking love puns.  Shoot me.
  Really, it was an enjoyable read.  When I was certain I had the plot figured out (and wondered how the hell the author was going to drag the book out for another 150 pages) shit went haywire and the story moved along in a totally new (but totally plausible) direction, which is a huge plus in my books because it takes a lot to hold my interest, and I get bored pretty easily.  I'm the proverbial tough critic, and you've got to be on point to keep me from heckling you like an asshole. 

  The best part about this book was that it was SURPRISING.  Good surprising.  Not The Crying Game surprising.  While our lady protagonist was enough of a stereotype to get herself into such a massively shitty situation, she turned out to be badass enough to deal with it, and her evolution as a character warmed the jaded cockles of my heart.  You get stereotypes in pulp - you get evolution in literature.  Really, Amanda Peck is pretty fuckin' awesome, and unquestionable my favorite character, though the crusty mess that is our antagonist comes in at a close second.  He's nasty in appearance and nastier in personality, disgustingly gross but disgustingly powerful.  Much like a traumatized hobo living on the edge of a nuclear power plant in Chernobyl.
  Sure, there were a few persnickety bits that irked me; certain wording in a sentence here and there, calling semen "seed".  That's all personal preference though, and the author couldn't have foreseen that the term "seed" will forever and always immediately catapult me to THIS:    

  More than anything though, this book was FUN.  Likable characters, excitement, action, surprises; all these elements make for an enjoyable read that you can't wait to get back to, and Blood Road had all of it.  There was an excellent balance between Pulp (humor, stereotypes, blood and gore) and Damn-Good-Reading (couldn't put the goddamn thing down).  Even the ending was a perfect fit.  Really, it might have been the best part, and there were a LOT of good parts.
  So go out, find Blood Road, read the fuck out of it, and thank me after.  I am fully willing to accept Nicholas Cage memorabilia in place of gratitude, by the way. 
  No, really.

Feb 1 - Feb 4, 2012

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children
Ransom Riggs
Fantasy
Published 2011
232 pages

9.5/10

  Jacob's grandfather Abe has a collection of strange photographs and even stranger stories to go with them; girls who float unless tied to the Earth, and boys who are strong enough to heft boulders with only one hand.  Many years ago, Abe lived with these children in a beautiful house on the other side of the world, where a wise old bird protected them from monsters.  Jacob thought these were just harmless fairy tales, until the monsters come for him...

  I picked this book up know absolutely nothing about it; literally, I didn't even have a dust jacket to go by.  But I was feeling adventurous:

   And I jumped right in.
  I'm totally stoked I gave this book a chance.  Even though it's a total departure from my usual fare (no stiff nipples or exploding craniums) I enjoyed it thoroughly.  The writing was spot on and I tripped along at a quick pace.  There was plenty of action and a multitude of interesting characters to keep me engrossed.
  Really, the biggest draw for me was the variety of Peculiars.  Not only were they all lovingly drawn and imaginatively unique, they had accompanying photos!  Photos!  REAL ASS PHOTOS!  Do you know how rad that is?!  And all the photos are real ass old-timey shots rescued from flea markets and swap meets.  Perhaps I'm biased because I also collect abandoned photos, but fuck it, I like this book especially much because of that.
  The main plot was sinister, but not overtly so; just enough to please the horror lover in me, but not so much that I, say, couldn't loan it to my precocious niece.  There was a touch of romance (no graphic stuff, though) and a really decent amount of violence.  But really, the main focus was the fantasy and the magic, and that kept it fairly appropriate.  I mean, I'd let MY non-existent imaginary kids read it, but those moms who hate Harry Potter because it's witchcraft might be another story.

Nov 14 - Nov 17, 2011

Bedbugs
Ben H. Winters
Horror
Published 2011
253 pages

9.5/10

  After much fruitless hunting, Susan finally finds her dream home in the upstairs apartment of a two story house.  She promptly moves in with her husband and daughter and starts to get settled - unfortunately, she begins to find small flaws in the domicile: a crack in the floorboards, mysterious noises... and bedbugs. 
  Bedbugs only she can see...

  Every once in a while, a book comes along that totally blows my mind.  This is one such book.  It contained the key elements of a great story - originality and good writing.  And it also helps that it's totally fucked up and weird, and that happens to be right up my dimly lit, spooky alley.
  Really, Bedbugs is balls to the walls, blow your head off, eating peas with honey (I've done it all my life, they do taste kind of funny... but it keeps them on the knife) fucked up.  Bedbugs.  Sure.  Creepy enough.  But a house that's infested with... well, I can't even begin to describe exactly just what type of bedbugs they are without giving the story away, so lets just say they're a bit worse than your average bedbugs, which are pretty bad anyways, plus all the other super fucked up shit that goes down that I also can't talk about because it'll ruin just how shockingly weird and fucked up this story really is... all I can say is WHOA.  Epically out there, while still maintaining a solid plot, characters, and scenes.
  I had no idea where, precisely, the story was going, how it would end, or who, specifically, the antagonist was right up until the last few chapters.  I was totally blindsided.  Not because it was deliberately confusing or vague; on the contrary, all the clues were right there in front of my face - I was just distracted by the effortless writing and mad flow, if you will.
  The author has talent, both with the ideas and the task of putting pen to paper.  Or fingers to keyboard, as I'm sure it's done nowadays.  It's so easy to find one or the other (great writing and terrible premise, or the more common great premise and terrible writing) so when the full package comes together, I'm stoked.  Great writing is especially important, because it articulates what the author is trying to get across to you.  But everyone's perception of great writing is different - I have a preference lots of action and little contemplation (yet I love Stephen King - go figure) and masses of sick disturbed subject matter. 
  Great, believable characters with natural dialogue are also a bonus, as that seems to come few and far between in a lot of books.  I really liked Susan - her neurosis was fully endearing to a fellow neurotic like myself.  Without going into too much detail, at the very least I could sympathize with her, and even understand her.  But without the fact that I just straight up like her, the slow wearing degradation of her psyche is utterly fascinating... like watching a drunk chick  ruin a wedding.

With all those attributes, this story flowed really REALLY well.
  Unfortunately, there a few parts that irked me.  Sigh.  This didn't get a 10/10  for two reasons.  One, there were some editing errors, and those always jerk me right out of my "Imagination Zone" or whatever the fuck you call it when you're completely immersed in a bitchin' book.  Come on editors!  Wake up!  Reason numero dos is because the protagonists went to the store and bought "a thing of frozen sausage".  A thing?  A THING of frozen sausage?!  Not a pack, or string, or bag, or package - A THING OF FROZEN SAUSAGE.  That shit would not fly in English class, and it don't fly here.  These are definitely minor infractions, though, and I'm just neurotic and nit-picky. 
  All in all, I would most definitely recommend this book to just about anyone, but especially fellow neurotics, because it will probably make even the most hardened bad asses feel a little (or a lot) squeamish. 
  Nighty night.
  Sleep tight.
  Don't let the bedbugs bite...

July 9 - July 27, 2011

Books of Blood: Volume 5
Clive Barker
Horror Anthology
Published 1984
149 pages

9.5/10

    A badass collection of Clive Barker's short fiction.

    In "The Forbidden", a woman enters the ghetto to do research on graffiti, and finds a whole new subculture... OF TERROR.
    It's hard to enjoy a story you've already experienced via film (what with the stunting of my imagination and all) but this was "fleshed out" in a different way, and I really enjoyed it.  Actually, I found it pretty dang spectacular.  It was weird trying to imagine a British ghetto instead of the one in the movie - in my head, everyone was ginger or looked like a Dickens character, and everyone talked with a cockney accent.  Freshen up yer alter of sweets and razors, guvnah?

    "The Madonna" lives in an abandoned pool, and isn't quite the beatific angle renaissance painters led us to believe.
    This was oddly beautiful, in it's own way.  Clive Barker really puts the pussy (well, demon/monster pussy) on a pedestal (and by pedestal, I mean abandoned pool) in this one.  But he writes so kindly about them.  Maybe he just loves monsters, be they lady or dude, or some variation of the two.  I pretty sure he also loves aliens, but I digress.  As I was saying, this was beautiful - except that I imagined the the great pool monster as Jabba the Hut, which I'm sure Barker wasn't going for.  But I always saw Jabba as kind of lady-like with those big limpid eyes.  The final scene was rapturously vivid, and I was totally sucked in, so to speak. 

    "Babel's Children" give a thrill-seeker a run for her money, and give us all something to discuss around the water cooler.
    This was different from the usual fare; not a horror, but a grand rollicking adventure... and I liked it.  I loved that the adventure seeking protagonist was a lady.  And it wasn't because somehow her female genitalia played into a key plot point.  I love that about Clive Barker.  He lets chicks do stuff.  On top of that, the subject matter is terrifically obscene, because, really, it could be true.

    "In The Flesh" explores the relationship between two prison inmates, and the relationship one of them has with his dead, murdering grandfather.  Did I mention there was a murder town full of ghosts in an alternate reality that they all hang out in?
    I found this gorgeous - Definitely one of the beast stories I've read out of the whole lot of books so far.  Wonderfully written, like a snapshot in the course of someone's life, with no excess wording or beating around the bush.  I was fully able to understand the entire story, and everything finished all wrapped up neat as you please.  I loved the imagery of an abandoned town full of hidden murderers confined to their murder environments, and every scene was so eerie and neat.  Very intriguing and totally fascinating.

    This started off well, and got better and better.

June 6 - June 12, 2011

Books of Blood: Volume 2
Clive Barker
Horror Anthology
Published 1984
150 pages

9.5/10

  A badass collection of Clive Barker's short fiction.

  "Dread" centers around an enigmatic young man and his obsession with the fears of those around him.
  A few months ago I watched the movie based on this story.  Even though the bizz-natch who recommended I watch it gave the ending away (I hate the people who do that almost as much as I hate the people who ruin the end of books, and I'm sure there's a special section of hell for those types) I really liked it.  So when I started reading this, I was kind of worried I'd be disappointed, since I already knew the big reveal, and would be anticipating the surprise plot point like a drunken frat boy's friends who hire a "lady of the night" from the specialty area of the red light district (Surprise!  It's a boy!) and there would be no delicious mystery, or dawning horror (except on the frat boy's part; unless he was into it, in which case the experience would be pivotal in redefining his gender-based sexual orientation, and then there would be kudos all around).  But because the story didn't follow the film (which, obviously happened vice a versa in history but not so in my personal time-space past-present) I was still able to enjoy the reading experience, though not as much as if I hadn't ever seen the film.  The story was terrifically vivid, and there are some scenes that are still with me.  The gore factor was up there, too.

  "Hell's Event" is, of all things, a foot race.  Who knew?
  This was all right.  I wasn't particularly enthralled, except maybe by the portal to H-E-double hockey stick.  I mean, shit was cool.  Literally.  But otherwise, not much seemed to happen.  Run.  Run run run.  Run.  I hate running.  It's bad for my knees.  I guess I just felt indifferent about it.  But the story was saved, for me, by good writing.

  "Jacqueline Ess: Her Will and Testament" is a macabre recounting of a woman's discovery of power, and what it does to the men in her life, and, ultimately, herself.
  Longer, weirder, and more thoughtful than the first two stories in this collection, and the most romantic so far, which may seem weird, but I totally felt it, and the eroticism was very natural.  The gore was absolutely disgusting, and there were some really sick scenes in this story, which I loved to bits.  There honestly isn't enough hardcore (and I mean HARDCORE) erotic horror.  This filled my... horitic tank quite nicely.  I also enjoyed the strong female protagonist - powerful women are so rare in literature.  Fabulous.

  "The Skins of the Fathers" shows us that demons aren't all bad.  And not all that removed from ourselves, either.
  Really, this was EPIC.  Such a weird, horrific story (right up there with "In the Hills, the Cities" in weirdness, actually), but poignant too.  That old adage, "Man fears what he can not understand" is pretty appropriate in this instance, and anything where that saying is appropriate pisses me off.  The townfolk were extremely realistic, while the "divils" were just fantastic in every sense of the word.  The ending was totally SICK.  Disgusting, horrible, and awesome; the way every end should be.

  "New Murders in the Rue Morgue" is a spin on a classic mystery, or so I presume, as I've never read the original.  Because I'm a savage brute with no taste for classic literature.
  This was a great capper for this anthology.  Not exactly horror, per se, more so fantastic with some hideously depraved situations (Bestiality, anyone?  Anyone at all?  No takers?  Huh).  It was definitely good, and very creative.  At least I assume it was creative.  Again, I didn't read what this was based on.  Well, OK, I literally read it on Wikipedia just now, but that hardly counts.  Thank god for the internets, eh?

    So far, I liked this set even more than the first set!

Dec 1 - Dec 8, 2010

Gerald's Game
Stephen King
Horror
Published 1992
332 pages

9.5/10

  A married couple heads to their summer house for a little frisky Fall business... unfortunately, our husband has the bad graces to die of a heart attack while our wife is handcuffed to the bed.  And then the fun really begins.
  Gerald's Game is another favorite book of mine, and I've read it multiple times for a couple of reasons.  And just to be fair, I have to admit this right off the bat - I LOVE Stephen King books, and while he walks on rivers of blood and viscera in my eyes, this book rocks my world because it's one of his shorter, more condensed works - I can spend a week on it instead of a month (although it still took a while to gather up steam and get chugging along to Mutilationville).  It's a little wordier than the bare bones stylings of, say... Carrie or Night Shift, but it's still a far cry from Under the Dome and The Stand (all of which I've read and enjoyed.)
  Gerald's Game is incredibly graphic and vivid; when reading this, I almost always have uber disturbing dreams involving variations of Jessie's final attempt to escape her cuffs... and I'm always Jessie.  For whatever reason that scene with the water glass has just STUCK with me, which, in my books, is the mark of a fantastic story... horror that  doesn't just horrify for an instant, but lingers to horrify for a lifetime.  Ahhh.
  Most importantly, this story contains the Almighty Kicker, the Final Twist that leaves you in awe of such a clever, twisted mind and twists your brain and you gut just so.  The final confrontation with Joubert is SPECTACULAR, not because of her pert in it per se, but because of his.  It would have literally broken my brain to have been in that situation, in that moment, and again, it's so VIVID.  King has a way with words that makes everything so damn clear and crisp that I can see him perfectly in my mind, mocking her and shrieking.  Ugh.
  And the idea of a person, handcuffed to a bed, trapped with no outside help ( but that of the author, haha) and only their ingenuity to save them... such an intriguing idea.  I love stories about the human mind's survival instincts, and the lengths people will go to for simple self-preservation... if only to take notes for myself just in case a similar scenario were to occur (which is probably why I read so many zombie books, as well).
  But on top of that, survival stories are just damn entertaining.  They usually have all the elements of a great horror novel: the degradation of the spirit, the slow torturous spiral of impending insanity, psychotic meltdowns, and usually culminating with terrific shocking violence.  Does loving these elements make me a sick girl?
  Now, unfortunately for me, because I've read this before, there was a fair bit of "GET TO THE GOOD STUFF" in the first half of this book, but that's not the book's fault.  I faintly recalled the main plot points, so there wasn't really any creeping up to most of the big reveals.  It was just a lot of "Yeah, yeah, quit mincing around it.  I know all about your sticky unmentionables..." and greatly anticipating THE HORROR.  But if I was a first time reader, whoo boy, I'd be gasping at every turn.  Luckily, I never seem to recall the final twist, so I still get a surprise or two.
  I also thought Jessie was portrayed as a smidge... melodramatic.  But then again, she may have been ovulating.  Hell, she attracted that dog.
  All in all, I'd give this book a hearty "Awesome!" and this is one of those books that I find myself recommending to friends.  Because I'm sick that way.