Knocking Over Dominoes: Veronica Roth’s ‘To Clutch a Razor’ Feels Positively Shakespearian

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In my last post, I got back into my Slavic folklore era with Veronica Roth’s When Among Crows. I loved how the story set itself apart from other similar concepts with a modern day setting, showcasing some unique (terrifying) weapon choices, and positing a deep and sincere romantic subplot.

This week I’m continuing my journey through that story world with the second Curse Bearer novella: To Clutch a Razor.

If it’s possible, I think I enjoyed this sequel even more than the original, a feat that is, in my humble opinion, all too rare. As TCaR progresses, it becomes obvious just how much of When Among Crows was essentially just setting up the gameboard. With all these pieces in place, TCaR is allowed to just start knocking over dominoes. And boy oh boy does this book knock them over.

I can’t really point to specifics without spoiling major plot points, but the drama within this book is positively Shakespearian. Everyone seems somehow pitted against one another. Lovers, family, friends, enemies; it doesn’t matter, every relationship seems balanced on the edge of a knife, and Roth does an excellent job really making the reader believe it could go either way.

And even though there is plenty of wonder within the folkloric elements already in place from the first book, some new myths are incorporated into the story as well. I spotted some Rusalka outside a club in Chicago, and we meet a Dybbuk in the Polish countryside. Before we’ve even left the airport we encounter a Vila (polish Wiła). Also, there are Wieszczy, which I had never heard of before, but are described as almost zombie-like, with a typical hungering for flesh, but with a crucial level-up in horror: if their cravings get too bad, they will eat their OWN flesh . . . yikes.

To try and distract myself from that unsettling sight, I want to return to Roth’s description of the Wiła for a moment, as I think it demonstrates well what we see throughout the Curse Bearer series; a mix of old with new, a weaving of folkloric fantasy and modern reality. Early on, main character Ala bargains with a Wiła — who lives in an airport fountain — to give her the ability to speak Polish, the language of her ancestral home (though crucially not where she grew up):

“Standing beside her is a woman. But not merely a woman. She has long hair — most Wiła do — and her feet are bare, but otherwise she’s opted not to look like a figure from an old book of fairy tales. She wears, not a flowing white gown, or a crown of flowers in her hair, but a hot-pink dress that makes her skin look even duller and greener than it would have otherwise. In an attempt to mitigate this, perhaps, she’s wearing a liptstick to match the dress — but it’s garish on her, and incongruous, like it’s painted on a corpse.

Not all women are beautiful by the standard definitions, and not all Wiła are, either. This one isn’t. There’s something froglike about her round eyes and her wide mouth.” – pg 55

There’s probably some things to unpack surrounding beauty standards in these few lines, but I don’t feel remotely qualified to write on that. Instead I think it’s interesting how Roth still includes a brief description we might expect from a book of fairytales:

“. . . not a flowing white gown, or a crown of flowers in her hair . . . “

And then immediately goes pretty far afield of that expectation with:

“. . . but a hot pink dress that makes her skin look ever duller and greener than it would have otherwise . . . she’s wearing lipstick to match the dress — but it’s garish on her, and incongruous, like it’s painted on a corpse.“

We can really sense that this creature is from an older time, but also that it still is able to exist because it adapts, even if it isn’t quite getting there.

Finally, we have the bargain Ala makes with the Wiła, one which I don’t think it’s hard to imagine Roth wanting to make as well when she was researching this book, to be able to speak the language of her ancestors (I believe Roth is from Polish descent).

As someone who took two years of Russian in college, and had a nearly 3 year streak studying Russian on Duolingo, I can’t help but wonder if there is something more to that desire. Roth is near me in terms of age, I wonder how many others of “my generation” have attempted to understand something more of their heritage, but simply can’t because they don’t even speak the same language . . .

Or, Ala’s desire to speak Polish is purely practical (she will be in Poland for a large chunk of the book), and the bargain is just an excuse to show off another interesting bit of folk legend. Who is to say?

I’ll begin to end this post by noting that Niko and Dymitr’s romance continues to expand in prominence within the story as well. Romance readers might argue it has gained enough critical mass to be considered the ‘main plot’ of the book but to my taste, it is still more of a sub-plot, with all the fighting and Knights vs Monsters still kind of occupying the main thrust of the story (for me). However, I was once again pleased with its inclusion. I hope they get to just go on a date sometime with out all the violence and sorrow of being the main characters in a dark fantasy hahah.

Give ‘To Clutch a Razor‘ a Read?

For certain. As mentioned above, I think I may have managed to enjoy To Clutch a Razor a bit more than When Among Crows. We get some new monsters and myths to marvel over, some positively Shakespearian plots, romance, and the ever fascinating mix between myth and modernity. But really I think where this book shines, is in the way it seems to capture a certain kind of desire to understand where we’ve come from, and an inevitable inability to do so . . .

That’s all I have for this week! What does everyone think? Anything I missed? As usual, what are your favorite Slavic myths and folkloric characters? Have you ever tried to learn a language? How did it go? What was your drive for picking it up?

Leave your thoughts in the comments! Looking forward to talking about this one!

Until next time . . .

A Brutal and Beautiful New Slavic Myth: Veronica Roth’s When Among Crows

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So it’s actually been a little while (about three months) since I first read When Among Crows by Veronica Roth, and I’ve recently finished with its sequel (To Clutch a Razor), which I definitely want to post about, so I figured I’d better get this review up first.

I have always had something of a predilection for Slavic folklore. Give me a Baba Yaga, or Rusalka and I’M IN.

I grew up Russian Orthodox with Father Frost (Дед Мороз) atop the tree instead of Santa. We’d celebrate regular Christmas on the 25th, but also do something small for ‘Russian Christmas’ on January 7th, and ‘Russian New Year’ on January 14th.

Russian New Year, or Old New Year (старый Новый год) in particular is associated with folk tradition though I didn’t know this growing up. Eventually, in December of 2021, I would finish The Bear and the Nightingale, and go on a spree of Slavic Folklore inspired novels like The Witcher, and the Shadow and Bone series. I assume I was also watching the associated TV shows around this time and certainly devouring The Witcher 3 on my PS4.

I was so taken with these folk tales and stories that I ended up writing a few short pieces of my own, Farewell to Rusalka, and At the Edge of Legend. Those last two I actually finished but I have a plethora of unfinished short story drafts from that time, and a good chunk of a novel written with those characters.

But then nothing.

Aside from Payback’s a Witch in 2023, I’ve hardly seen much Slavic myth and folklore inspired fiction around recently (although I think there is a new Witcher book out so that will probably change soon).

All of this to say, I was pretty excited to discover Veronica Roth’s Curse Bearer series. I haven’t read (or even watched) anything by this author before and I was nearly halfway through When Among Crows before I realized Roth had written the Divergent series, an absolute behemoth of the dystopian genre. I won’t try to compare these books to those . . . I have literally no points of reference (though I guess maybe now I’m considering going back and checking them out).

In any case, I absolutely loved When Among Crows. I would describe it as similar to The Witcher in that it’s based in Polish folkloric tradition, and also pretty brutal/violent. However, there are quite a bit of differences which allow the story to stand on its own. One major divergence (lol!) is the time period. WAC is firmly set in the modern day or perhaps the pretty closely distant past (is that a thing? hahah). Perhaps ten years ago, or maybe twenty? I’m in my thirties, so that feels like just yesterday.

Anyway, it’s the kind of story where Zmora cast illusions to trick Strzyga in a fight to the death in a warehouse-turned-night-club. One of the main characters, Dymitr, caries his weapon in a guitar case, to keep it hidden. Another main character, Niko, drives a cloth-top Jeep.

Roth’s only concession to the mythic past from which monsters are born is in the very beginning, when Dymitr bargains with a Leshy for a magic flower.

I found the way the myth and folklore were woven into modern times to be clever, nuanced and intriguing. The aforementioned Zmora feed on fear, so they’ve set up movie theaters which show only scary movies. Lloronas (essentially banshees) feed on sorrow, and so they own hospitals and other places where people may mourn (mourn their own lives or the loss of someone else’s).

Then of course there are the Knights which hunt the monsters. These characters are absolutely terrifying. They know all kinds of curses and magic, but their primary weapon is a sword which is sheathed in their spines, and must be violently (and bloodily) ripped from their backbones every time they want to wield it. They seem to do this at the drop of a hat.

I have to give this weapon choice cool points for its sheer insanity. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything quite like it. If this came from some myth or folklore, yeesh. If it came purely from Roth’s imagination. Wow. Just wow (hahah).

In any case, I really enjoyed the reversal here with these characters. We’re supposed to revere knights, and root for them. So to see them in such a horrifyingly evil way is a cool turn.

Finally there is the romance (between Niko and Dymitr). It isn’t the main plot, however I really enjoyed its inclusion, and felt it was really well done with more emphasis on emotions then physical attraction (although that is still there). Probably not since Red, White and Royal Blue have I wanted two dudes to just kiss already! hahah.

Give ‘When Among Crows’ a Read?

Definitely! It’s been a while since I had the chance to get my Slavic mythology fix, and When Among Crows was the perfect dose I didn’t know I needed. It separates itself from similar stories — primarily The Witcher — by setting its adventure in the modern day. Roth does a great job with this setting, weaving Slavic (mostly Polish) folklore and myth into the modern day in interesting and intriguing ways. Her Knights are terrifyingly cool villains, and the romance in this book has depth and sincerity even as a subplot.

Overall, When Among Crows was a standout novella, and I was stoked to read the sequel (To Clutch a Razor). Unfortunately I had to wait about a month to read it. But I will not wait a month to post my review!

In any case, that’s all I have for this week. What’s your favorite character from Slavic myth? Which are overdone? Have you read any of Veronica Roth’s other books? Should I?

As always, please leave your thoughts in the comments. I’m looking forward to talking about this one!

The Best Kind of Nonsense: Why I Loved T. Kingfisher’s Nine Goblins

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Looks like I’m back on my T. Kingfisher kick. This author is becoming somewhat ‘old-reliable’ when it comes to having a good audiobook for a long drive.

I went into this one pretty much blind. I’m not sure I even bothered to read the description. I just took one look at the cover, and the number of hours it would take to listen to (between 4-5) and hit the download button. Two long-ish drives later, I’ve decided to put off writing reviews on two other extremely good novellas, so I can get this one written before the memory fades too much. That’s how much I enjoyed Nine Goblins.

Of the works of T. Kingfisher I’ve read so far, this one feels the most blatantly comedic. I’ve mentioned in my reviews of What Feasts At Night and Jackalope Wives that there were many elements of Kingfisher’s style that reminded me of Terry Pratchett. Readers don’t have to dig very deep to see that same influence in Nine Goblins, it’s right there on the surface. Aside from the fact that it’s not set on the Discworld, I could almost believe this was a City Watch book. As such I think I actually laughed out loud a few times while on the road.

I think a few important choices allow this sort of standard orcs-vs-humans setting (I thought immediately of the videogame series Warcraft) to really bloom into a unique story all its own. First, focusing the main thrust of the story around a group of Goblins reframes the story as a kind of anti-colonial tale, in which humans and elves are (to start) painted as unrelenting expansionists.

Goblins as villainous demons or tricksters is pretty deeply engrained in our mythology and lore, so I was fascinated by all the ways Kingfisher found to make them sympathetic. Mainly this is accomplished through quirks and point of view. The funniest quirk (to me) was the goblin Blanchett, who doesn’t speak unless to express the speech of a teddy bear he carries with him. I think at some point the teddy bear gets promoted for of valor (to describe it in the Wayward Children parlance, this is a high nonsense world lol).

We also see the goblins being quite heroic in their own goblin-y ways. They’re generous with praise, though it comes in the form of an insult, and despite their villainous portrayal in other media, these goblins spend a lot of time finding reasons not to kill but to spare and even save what are by rights their enemies (somewhat tangent but related to this point: one goblin even adopts a kitten mid adventure (which gets named wiggles)).

By giving us this point of view from the Goblin’s perspective, these mythic creatures which are typically cast as side-characters or villains take center stage, the effect being ironically humanizing. I can’t really think of any other Fantasy media which takes on this point of view. And I feel you would be hard pressed to do it so well as Kingfisher does here.

Equally important to the story’s success, is its second POV, through the eyes of the elf Sings-To-Trees. He is a kind of veterinarian who specializes in the care of magical creatures which often just appear at his doorstep when they need help. Somewhat reminiscent of Radagast from Lord of the Rings — pre nervous breakdown — in occupation and function, Kingfisher takes an alternate tac on the Friend-to-All-Living-Things trope, requiring Sings-To-Trees to care for and love the ugliest and prickliest animals as well as the cute and cuddly ones.

This means that Sings-to-Trees has some of the silliest and most hilarious encounters in the book. In particular I’m thinking about pretty much any scene during which he must talk with trolls, who pretty much just repeat the same syllable over and over again with barely different inflections, yet still manage to get their meaning across. I’m not sure if this would be quite as funny in print, but it was absolutely hysterical on audio.

Give ‘Nine Goblins‘ a Read?

Oh yeah! It’s short, it’s funny, and in my opinion a great take on a classic and often taken for granted feature of Fantasy fiction: Goblins.

Whether it’s the baffling conversation between a clumsy, messy elf (Sings-to-Trees is really the opposite of everything we think of as high fantasy elves), and monosyllabic trolls, or the inverted correlation between real intelligence / competence and military rank, Nine Goblins is absolutely brimming with laughs.

But as is often the case, just because it’s funny does not mean it is devoid of depth or nuance. In particular, Kingfisher takes aim at colonialism, giving us the story from the view of the colonized, and maybe a bit of hope that coexistence is possible.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this story before? What did you like best? Can you think of any other stories which take on the POV of Goblins? What other fantasy main-stays would you like to see given this treatment?

As always please leave your thoughts in the comments section! Am really looking forward to discussing this one!

A Surreal Estate Book Tag!

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Though we’ve still got more or less a full week left in October, the next time I post will technically be November 1st (assuming I finish another book by then). Since this will be our last spooky post in the lead up to Halloween — any other spooky posts will from here on out will just be AFTER Halloween lol — I believe I owe anyone who has been following along a haunted house book tag.

Back in 2021, I was mildly obsessed with a show called Surreal Estate, in which a real estate agent specializes in selling haunted houses, and often must appease whatever supernatural entity is haunting the place before he can make the sale (John Wiswell’s Open House on Haunted Hill feels related and came out around the same time).

I was pretty much devastated because I thought the show had been cancelled, but when I was starting to google and pull together some ideas for this post, I realized it actually got renewed, and there are a total of three seasons(!) so far, with no news yet on whether or not there will be a season four.

There simply wasn’t enough time to do a re-watch of season one, and watch seasons two and three (and I’d have to get Hulu or Disney+), and come up with fun and interesting quotes myself. Also, I think that may have been quite a long post.

So I took to the internet, and found a great website which had tons of quotes from every episode . . . which was taken down sometime between the first week of September and now.

All of that to say, everything about my relationship with this poor show seems to be doomed from the start and I only managed to get a few quotes so this will be a relatively short (5 questions) list of recommendations.

I’ve mostly made it to amuse myself but would of course love it if you answered the questions yourself on your own blog and linked back to me. Or even just dropping into the comments with a couple Haunted House recs would be excellent. Perhaps I can revisit this after rewatching the series, once I’ve added a few more books to my haunted house resume.

So, without further ado, I present the SurrealEstate book tag!

“And one last thing. Don’t rule out the rational explanation. Ever.”

From Season 1 Episode 1

A haunted house book that just won’t quite suspend your disbelief. In which a logical, empirical explanation is as likely as anything supernatural . . . but still just as creepy.

The Grownup by Gillian Flynn

This one should feel familiar to any who have been reading along this month. It’s how we kicked off October this year. I enjoyed this short (short!) book for several reasons, the first being Flynn’s ability to hook the reader with an unexpected opening line, and continuous little subversions of our expectations throughout.

However, it’s not a book that leans heavily into the supernatural, if anything the opposite. The main character’s positioning as a fraud and grifter makes us doubt from the very beginning, and by the time we get to the end, it certainly feels like there’s a reasonable explanation for everything that occurred.

However I’ll let you decide when you read it. Give The Grownup by Gillian Flynn a read!

“No, it’s just sometimes these properties can act a little differently when your back is turned.”

From Season 1 Episode 2

A haunted house book with a twist. This is an old and well mined genre of horror. Which book surprised you by still having a few tricks up its sleeve?

Just Like Home by Sarah Gailey

This book could probably could have taken the spot for the last question too, though I think there actually is a supernatural element to this one, it’s only that the non-supernatural elements are also horrifying in their own right.

With Just Like Home, Gailey shows they can really write in whatever genre they want, and still have something unique and interesting to say. This book in particular seemed to give me the impression that there is still plenty more to be mined from this beloved genre!

“You must be careful. If this is what I think it is, it is old, it is cunning. It also has an ego and is easily distracted. But remember it only exists to inflict pain and sorrow. And it sees you coming.”

From Season 1 Episode 2

An irrefutable classic. The older the better. A book which is like homework for the genre. A must read, otherwise you just don’t get it.

(Side note: I usually ignore recs of this type because . . . well lets just say I have a less than favorable relationship with ‘The Classics’)

The Haunting of Hillhouse by Shirley Jackson

There’s a way in which it feels like all roads lead back to The Haunting of Hillhouse. Stephen King has reviewed it as one of the finest horror novels of the late 20th century, and the Writing Excuses Podcast did an entire episode just on the first few sentences. THoHH is such a staple of the genre, that books like the aforementioned The Grownup reference this classic in order to give themselves more clout in the genre.

I can hardly imagine a book with a bigger ego.

Ironically, I didn’t care for this one much. I’ll agree that the prose in the beginning are indeed some of the most fluid and poetic writing I’ve ever read. However, there are so many equally clunky and uninspired lines throughout the rest that it almost feels as if the gorgeous opening was some kind of fluke. In any case, at least for me, I could not tell why this book is such a staple of the Haunted House genre. I guess I’ll have to finish Stephen King’s full review . . .

“I have a story that needs to flow out of me. And that cannot happen unless the environment I am in lets that flow remain uninterrupted.”

From Season 1 Episode 3

A story you just couldn’t put down. A book which you couldn’t bother with real life while reading. Uninterrupted reading or GTFO!

We Used To Live Here by Marcus Kliewer

We Used To Live Here might be the scariest book I’ve read period. And Kliewer’s writing is superb. The perfect mix of need-know-what-happens and I-can’t-watch. I mention in my review his ability to write descriptions which are novel, yet completely understandable and often quite beautiful. He’s also a master of misdirection and suspense, constantly laying down little bread crumbs for the reader to follow. Some may go somewhere, others may not but they keep you eating up the story night after night (or maybe day after day since this can be a scary one to read after dark).

Definitely give this one a read!

“I lived in the past. But one can’t turn back time. And so, with that lovely melody playing in my head I said goodbye to this world. And it was only in the next that I learned the awful truth of what I’d done. That none of us who love this place or slept in its water could move on until that melody was turned back.”

From Season 1 Episode 3

A scary book featuring music.

The Fall Of The House of Usher

This one also could have gone in the classic section of this post, but I think I enjoyed it a little more than Hill House. Plus The Fall of The House of Usher has at least one element which I don’t feel like I see very often in any genre: Music!

The House of Usher’s last remaining occupant and caretaker, Roderick Usher, has become reclusive in the extreme while taking care of his sister, Madeline Usher, and music is one of the many tools Poe uses to show just how far he’s descended into madness. The narrator comments on the long and improvised dirges Roderick plays, and his obsessive practicing of mourning songs and funeral tunes, all played on the acoustic guitar.

The song we ‘hear’ (or is referenced) in The Fall of the House of Usher, is Carl Gottlieb Reißiger’s Last Waltz, but it is misattributed in the text to Carl Maria von Weber. Also the tune was written for — and probably played on — the piano during Poe’s time so it’s interesting that Roderick plays it on the guitar instead.

In T. Kingfisher’s What Moves The Dead, the Roderick character is a pianist, just one of the many ways that author seeks to ‘fix’ the original story by Poe.

Tag You’re It!

Well that’s it folks. Five spooky haunted house books you can (probably) still finish before Halloween next week. Let me know what you thought of this list. Is there any recommendations you’d have added? Have you read any of the ones I suggested?

Please let me know in the comments! And if you decide to do the tag, a link back here is always appreciated! Looking forward to talking about this one!

Until next time!

An October Treat: Christina Henry’s ‘The House that Horror Built’

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Another week in October, another spooky book reviewed on the blog. For this post, I finished Christina Henry’s The House that Horror Built.

A quick google search reveals that this author has already written a ton (19) of books, mostly in the genres of Dark Fantasy and fairy tale retellings. She’ been nominated for many Goodreads Choice awards (in the Horror Genre), and seems to have just generally been on the scene for quite some time (first published in 2010).

So, I’m a bit embarrassed to say that The House That Horror Built is my first exposure to Henry’s work, and that it wasn’t through some ‘best of’ list, or ‘must read’ promo material that I discovered the book, but by the increasingly rare yet perhaps most gratifying way to discover a book: I saw it on the shelf.

Or rather I kept seeing it on the shelf.

The bookends for the shelves at my local library are really just a bit of metal tubing, and so the cover of whichever book is on the end of the row is visible. It’s not really on display as we might think of library displays, but you’re not gonna miss it. You may not register you’re even seeing it but you are, each and every day until it’s a bit like a part of the landscape. And then one day, you wake up and decide you want to focus your reading on Haunted Houses during the month of October, and it’s the first thing that comes to mind, and it makes you wonder if you’re even in control of your life at all, or just some unwitting victim of your environment . . . or ya know, “Hey this looks good!”

And The House That Horror Built IS GOOD, with perhaps only some (IMHO) minor pacing issues towards the end. It’s not a story you’ll be afraid to read when the sun goes down — not like We Used To Live Here or even last week’s Mapping the Interior — but it is still a compelling story with interesting characters and something of a mystery to be solved by the end of the book. All this is sort of wrapped in the trappings of a haunted house story, with the added element of the main character being a horror aficionado whose job it is to clean a famous (and famously reclusive) horror director’s house filled with props and artifacts from his films.

In this way, Henry is able to pay homage to — and tap into nostalgia for — early horror films and genre staples. Interestingly, I think the inclusion of these films also manages to serve as a kind of shorthand for the author, who no longer has to spend a lot of time building suspense or backstory, but can instead reference a relevant movie or book in the genre and get the reader into the right frame of mind even sooner. Gillian Flynn’s The Grownup sort of did something similar with references to The Haunting of Hillhouse, The Woman in White etc.

Of course, no book is simply about one thing, and The House that Horror Built contains more than just spooky costumes, and the occasional twist (one near the middle I though particularly good). The book’s main character, Harry Adams, is not only a horror film aficionado, but also a single mother, and a runaway from an abusively Christian family, poor, and was at one point homeless. So lots to unpack there. And of course as she becomes more entangled in the life of the reclusive film director (Javier Castillo), there is also the complications of fame to navigate, with reporters, paparazzi harassment and stalking.

And to put a little cherry on the top, the story takes place in that sort of limbo period at the tail end of the Covid shutdown when masks and social distancing are still being strictly observed, but some things are starting to reopen. The main character’s son, Gabe, goes to school remotely some days of the week, and in-person other days. Folks are beginning to return to restaurants but not yet with enough frequency to hire a full staff.

These little details are not only some more small challenges for our hero to overcome, but I liked how their inclusion documents that period, and shines a light on the very real challenges that very real people faced during that time, without those struggles taking over the story completely. I’m not sure what the author’s intent in setting the story during that time period was, but I found it a nice addition to a story which was already doing so much so well.

My only real critique of the story, which I mentioned up above, was a bit of the pacing. Early in the book, there were many chapters with strong hooks pulling me into the next chapter, and often I’d wish for just five more minutes with the book to see what happened next (alas the irrefutable bounds of a lunch break bend for no one). However, as the we neared the end of the book, that pull did not feel as strong. Perhaps because so many more elements had been introduced, the main thrust of the story got a bit lost. When the end finally did arrive, it felt a bit abrupt. Like perhaps there should have been another chapter or something just to wrap things up. However, this might just be personal taste.

Give ‘The House that Horror Built’ a Read?

Yes! Despite a somewhat abrupt feeling to the ending, I really did enjoy this one. This author has a talent for writing interesting characters with A LOT going on in their lives and real ability for incorporating many disparate elements into the story. Before reading The House that Horror Built I would not have thought a novel about a Horror film director’s haunted mansion could also be about single-motherhood at the end of a pandemic, AND a lesson in setting a proper work-life balance with boundaries AND about so many other things.

Anyway, that’s all I have for this week! Has anyone already read this one? What was your favorite room in the house? What’s your favorite horror movie?

Please leave your thoughts in the comments! Looking forward to chatting about this one!

Outside My Normal Haunts: Exploring Rez Gothic With ‘Mapping The Interior’

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Well we’re in the second week of our spooky era here on A&A and the shivers are starting to (ahem) creep down the spine. Excellent.

I have to admit, this is not my first Stephen Graham Jones story, and actually not even the first time I’ve read Mapping the Interior. According to Goodreads, I originally read this novella back in October of 2021 but never posted a review about it. Looking back at the archive from that time, it’s not particularly hard to see why. I was BUSY.

I had finally released Narmer and The God Beast on Amazon and was trying to talk a little bit about that. I was still deep in my Hugo Era and trying to keep up with everything going on there (I posted reviews of Tracy Deon’s Legendborn, Tochi Onyebuchi’s Riot Baby, and Jordan Ifueko’s Raybearer). And finally, I was trying to push out my own haunted house story for folks subscribing to my newsletter. It ended up being a kind of Steampunk version of Smarthouse which I named Boutilier House.

I’m honestly astonished I had the time to do all of that lol. In any case, I was probably reading a bunch of haunted house stories around that time, trying to get a sense of what had and hadn’t been done before in that space, not unlike the main character of Mapping the Interior, cataloguing the genre from the inside, mapping it out so that I could search it systematically, not for the ghost of my dead father, but for my muse!

Anyway, we’re here to review a novella, not get cute about marketing an old story, so lets get started with that!

Mapping the Interior feels notable for a few reasons. Similar to The Grownup, the story does not open with a description of the house, but with the main character sleep walking. We learn about the house a few pages later, and it also bucks our expectations. It’s modular. At only 1140 square feet (avg in 2025 is 2,200 square feet), it is a far cry from the mansions we’re used to reading about in early Gothic literature, or even the abandoned suburban haunts we see in more modern horror. Also, Jones is Blackfeet Native American and depicts Native American characters within the story.

All of these choices, from the size and character of the house, to the backgrounds of the people living in it, build a picture we’re not used to reading in Haunted House stories. An example of what Wikipedia describes as “. . . Native American Gothic, or Rez Gothic: a niche publishing genre characterized as using fantasy, science fiction, and horror to shed light on racial inequalities . . .” (from the wiki for Stephen Graham Jones)

Mapping the Interior is certainly not the first book to do this, not even in Stephen Graham Jones’ catalog, but it felt representative to me of the power this kind of fiction can have and an important deviation from the classic trappings of a Haunted House story.

But for all the tropes and expectations this novella subverts, it stays true to form in one major element, managing to be both deep and meaningful and a supremely unsettling read (which is what we come to horror for right!).

Part of that feeling of awe and dread the reader experiences — I feel — comes from the perspective the story is told. Our narrator, Junior, is only twelve years old at the time the main part of the story takes place, and there is a type of sureness and certainty in the supernatural that adults just don’t have any longer. And through this perspective we are made to believe what happens is real, we are made to believe in ghosts.

And we’re able to bridge the gap between our own age and a child’s because Junior is simply incredibly well written. Indigo Xix writes:

“. . . this is the kind of child I adore: he is innocent and precocious, noble and self-involved all a the same time. He is, in other words, a real human child, full of the complexities and contradictions that all children have.” – Stephen Graham Jones’s ‘Mapping the Interior – A Review

I could not agree more, or put it any better (hence the quote hahah).

Of course there is also the ghost itself, which walks a perfect tight rope between violent benevolence, and indisputable evil. Through most of the story, the reader is never quite sure just what kind of ghost this is. A helpful spirit? Or a hateful devil?

Also, incredibly (ahem) fleshed out, this ghost just feels like something Jones pulled from a Native American myth or legend. Normally, I know half the fun of a read like this would be tracking down just which legend it came from and just what connections that myth has to the larger culture. Unfortunately, I have a rather shallow knowledge of Native American mythology and am not even sure quite where to start. Even Jones himself isn’t quite sure exactly where this haunt originated from. He tells Paul Semel (of paulsemel.com) that:

“Try as I might, I can’t remember what ghost-stories I might have had in mind when I wrote this. I was watching a lot of Westerns, I recall . . .” – Exclusive Interview: Mapping The Interior Author Stephen Graham Jones

If this is the case, I am perhaps more impressed, since it means that the horrors written on the page are just whatever horrors Jones came up with himself.

Finally, we have the end, which I won’t spoil, but which I would consider a true coda (like in a musical composition). At first, it feels a bit tacked-on, but after some consideration, I feel it is actually perfect because it makes the story NOT perfect. We have a nicely finished story, and then a bit extra which just leaves us a little bit unsettled. I don’t think every story could, or should do this, but I did enjoy this technique here. It just felt right for Mapping the Interior.

Give ‘Mapping The Interior’ a Read?

Absolutely! As a quick but meaningful diversion from the ‘typical’ haunted house story, Mapping the Interior fulfills that need exceedingly well, and as an intro to Native American Gothic, or Rez Gothic, it brings you up to speed in just a short 100-ish pages. I really enjoyed reading from Junior’s perspective, and was able to appreciate just how well this kid is written that his viewpoint alone enables us to really BELIEVE in ghosts, and increasingly fear and dread them as Junior learns to do as the story progresses.

While I couldn’t pick up exactly which myth or legend our haunt comes from, I found myself more impressed as it meant that the author did not have a template from which to draw, but really had to rely on his own creativity and knowledge to keep the reader scared (which I was!). And finally, I enjoyed the ‘coda-like’ nature of the end which left us feeling as unsettled as ever despite getting the ‘good ending’.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this novella before? Or any other Stephen Graham Jones stories? Which are your favorite? Did you recognize the ghost here from a native myth or legend? Where might we start our search?

Leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments section! I’m looking forward to talking about this one!

See you next time for some more Haunted House adventures! Stay spooky everyone hahah.

More Palahniuk Than Poltergeist: A Look at Gillian Flynn’s ‘The Grownup’

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It’s October again, which means I’m officially back in my Haunted House Era until we hit November. Looking back at last October (2024), it seems we were a bit light with only my review of What Moves The Dead scratching this particular itch. Marcus Kliewer’s We Used To Live Here seems like what I should have been reading, but apparently I didn’t get around to it until November. Weird. In any case, it’s probably the last haunted house story I’ve read, and honestly my current favorite.

The plan for THIS October is to read Gillian Flynn’s The Grownup (check), and two more haunted house stories before finishing out the month with a book tag!

Will I actually manage to get all of that reading done? Will I get the reviews written? And will I have a new favorite by the end of this month? Only time will tell.

Let’s get to it!

To my knowledge, this is the first piece of fiction from Gillian Flynn that I’ve actually read. I really enjoyed HBO’s Sharp Objects (though I only got around to watching it within the last year or two), and I knew Gone Girl by reputation though I had never seen the movie or read the book (I am now about 20% through the book).

But somewhere in the back of my mind, I had remembered that Flynn had written a “fantasy story”, which was in one of the George R.R. Martin anthologies (Rogues). I was surprised and honestly kind of curious, but had yet to pursue it. This info was far from my mind when I set out to build my list for this October, but as I was scrolling through my library’s catalog, and came across The Grownup I was again surprised that Flynn had worked on something with a supernatural bent. Finally it clicked that THIS was the fantasy story from Rogues, originally titled What Do You Do?

It’s hard to discuss this short story fully without spoiling most of the twists — I’m learning that Gillian Flynn loves a good twist! — but a few things stand out about it right from the start.

The first thing is the opening. It starts: “I didn’t stop giving hand jobs because I wasn’t good at it.”

Excuse me what?

I’ll refrain from making an ex-squeeze me joke (ok I guess I still made it) but talk about an attention grabbing first line. And about setting the tone hahah. I felt this opening notable for more than just raunchy nature of its content however. First, it’s (ahem) dripping with characterization and hopelessly compelling from that lens. Who is the type of person that introduces themselves this way?

Second, it sets The Grownups apart from other haunted house stories, in that it doesn’t begin with describing THE HOUSE. Perhaps the prime example of what I’m talking about is the quintessential Sherley Jackson classic The Haunting of Hillhouse which manages to give the reader a sense of unease and dread about Hillhouse within the first paragraph.

The Grownups doesn’t bother, it positions its narrator as its most interesting character, gives us her story right away, and then finally talks about the house somewhere around the halfway-point (pg 28 of only 62). In this way, it almost reads more like a Chuck Palahniuk novel than a true horror story (now I want to re-read Haunted). It’s hard to think of this choice as anything but deliberate, especially since Flynn’s narrator — something of a bookworm despite her profession — mentions Haunting of Hillhouse as a favorite read of one of her Johns.

In any case, when the house finally does get introduced, it is sufficiently creepy from the outside, and even more horrific once we meet the people living there. I sort of have to stop here as we begin getting into spoiler territory but just know that once we finally get to Carterhook Manor, the twists start coming and Flynn does a wonderful job destabilizing the story, giving us the illusion of knowing what’s going on and then finding out, time after time, we actually had no idea.

I will admit, my only complaint about the book, is that Flynn does not spend much time attempting to ‘scare’ the reader. It’s just not that type of story. So while I did enjoy this one a lot, I’m not really sure it quite hit the threshold of the ‘spooky’ vibe I was aiming for with my selection this month.

So, Give “The Grownup” a Read?

I liked this one. Flynn knows her craft well, and is able to hook the reader with something unexpected from literally the first sentence of this story. And because I’m a nerd, I enjoyed how this book situates itself within the genre, or I guess how it kind of removes itself from the genre while still managing to incorporate some of its sign posts.

All of that meta commentary happening with mentions of The Haunting of Hillhouse, and Dracula; Rebecca and The Woman In White (I still need to read those last two classics), make it extra fascinating that the story was originally published in what is ostensibly a fantasy anthology (GRRM’s Rogues).

Also, it’s a short one, so there’s little downside here that I can see except that it’s generally not really a spooky book in the way we want in the lead up to Halloween.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this one before? What parts were your favorite? Would you try ‘cleanse’ Carterhook Manor. By what point would you have nope’d out of there?

That’s all I have for this week! See you next time!

Cats, Kids, and Close Encounters: Diving into Emily Jane’s ‘On Earth As It Is On Television’

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Back in January (2025) I reviewed Emily Jane’s second novel, Here Beside the Rising Tide and was pretty excited by the whole thing. It was exactly the right mix of weird, goofy, funny, and literary with as much “real talk” and critique of modern life and capital ‘L’ literature as laughter and silliness. It had some of the most dynamic and realistic child characters I have ever read, and some truly incredible diction (Tentaggedon! and “What the Faulkner?!” are two of my favs).

Also, it was chock-full of references to Grateful Dead songs which I loved.

Needless to say, my expectations were high going into On Earth As It Is On Television.

And those expectations were mostly met. OEaiioT is a pretty incredible debut, unfortunately, slightly tainted by the fact that I’d read Jane’s sophomore effort first. Much of what I loved about HBtRT is present in OEaiioT only in an almost prototypical form. Having already read her second book, reading the first book really highlights how she was able to course-correct and improve her craft.

One example which stood out to me was Blaine and Anne’s (two primary characters) children: Jas and Avril. These children are insane! They fight, and tease, and obsess over small things. They play and argue and push their parents to their limits constantly. They’re like a constant cloud of energy which just amps up every situation our protagonists find themselves in. We’ve all met kids like this. We all know what it’s like and I’d say this aspect of their characterization is executed just about perfectly.

Unfortunately, they don’t really feel like characters in the story. They each have quirks and behaviors unique to them, and all the things that generally make up a good character, but they just don’t feel like they’re participating in the plot. In most scenes (especially when they’re sitting literally in the back seat of a minivan) they just feel like they’re there for the ride. Rather than part of the team which saves the day, they’re another obstacle in our hero’s way. Just one more variable to be handled.

I don’t think I would have noticed this much if I had read this novel before Here Beside the Rising Tide, however, now that I have, it is hard to look past. The children in that book are part of the story. They mess up and do silly kid things which make the adult’s life harder, but they also sometimes solve the puzzle or save the day in their own small ways which the adults simply cannot begin understand or do themselves. They may be naive, or inexperienced, but this is actually their superpower and the thing which allows them to thrive as tiny heroes.

I feel like this dynamic is hinted at in On Earth As It Is On Television, but not yet fully realized.

But despite everything I’ve written up above, I still really enjoyed this book and there are still many great reasons to read it (just maybe read it before Here Beside the Rising Tide).

A few books I’ve read previously heavily incorporate cats into the narrative (Starter Villain by John Scalzi and Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comic come to mind). Add On Earth As It Is On Television to this list. I’m not much of a ‘cat person’ (indeed I’m quite allergic), but I’ve always appreciated them from afar (which I’m sure they prefer) and felt I could understand why people love them so much even if I’d never have one at home, I could appreciate why others would want them around.

They have a sort of mystique about them and I felt this book did a great job really kind of celebrating that and having fun with it.

Of course — and it’s not a spoiler to say this, the book blurb mentions spaceships in the first line — there are aliens as well, and it is with this element that we can see the author’s signature wit and humor really come to the fore. From the what they call themselves (which I won’t spoil), to how they look (which I also won’t spoil), to how folks react to their arrival, it all seems to have a healthy dollop of whimsy added.

For any looking for serious investigations into what potential alien life and first contact might be like, this is not that book. It isn’t trying to be, and while the book often relies on a lot of classic sci-fi tropes that feel a bit ridiculous, that ridiculousness is exactly what the book is going for. It’s part of the joke.

But for all the laughs, there is strong thread (like HBtRT) of real issues being examined throughout the text. When the ships arrive (again not a spoiler), everyone on earth has a bit of their own personal existential crisis. And thematically, each of the main characters needs to sort of reinvent themselves. For one main character, Oliver, he essentially must figure out the person he wants be in every scene as an accident towards the beginning of the book leaves him with very little memory of who he was before.

I was fascinated by this character’s journey, as well as the other main protagonists. And there is tons here I haven’t even mentioned, whether because I want to avoid spoilers, or because my fingers are starting to get tired (been playing a lot of guitar this week), but the author does a fantastic job of weaving it all together into a cohesive story which I feel had exactly the right ending.

So Give ‘On Earth As It Is On Television‘ a Read?

Absolutely! Though I may prefer Here Beside the Rising Tide a little more, On Earth As It Is On Television is a great story and a great debut. If you like cats, and aliens, and ABBA (how have I not mentioned ABBA yet?!), then you’ll love this!

Well That’s all I have for you this week! Has anyone already read this one? What was your favorite part? Am I being too harsh when it comes to Avril and Jas? What would you do if flying saucers really did appear over the capital?

Please leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments section! Looking forward to talking about this one!

See you next time!

Godzilla 1998: The Weird, The Wacky, and Ohh The CGI (lol)

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I have to admit, I don’t really a very strong narrative for revisiting this film right now, other than that I may want to reference it in an upcoming post.

I considered trying to tie it in to the sort of ‘creature feature’ kick I’ve been on recently with Primitive War and my recent rewatch of the Jurassic Franchise, but that seems a bit thin. I also considered attempting to frame it as a “movie that made me” like I’ve written about The Matrix or The Mummy (1999), but while my seven-year-old self did enjoy this movie immensely when it came out — and there is indeed a funny story and sort of family tradition that sprung out of that first viewing in theaters way back when — I can’t say that this is a movie that looms very large in my construction of self despite the size of its main character, or the weight of its profits (9th highest grossing film of the year at $136,314,294).

Also, it wasn’t made in 1999 so it brings nothing to my argument there.

No, it’s just the first experience I really remember having with the Godzilla franchise, and with the current number of films at thirty-eight, and sequels to Godzilla X Kong and Godzilla Minus One already in production, it just seems like the right time for me to begin blabbing about this iconic figure on the blog.

Besides, Godzilla is mentioned already one time in my review of Kaiju Preservation Society, so there’s precedent (lol!).

In any case, is this movie any good?

I’d say yes and no. As a kid, I remember absolutely loving it. Now twenty-seven years later, you can definitely feel its age. Mostly this involves the special effects, and in particular, the use of CGI. It’s interesting because The Lost World would have come out a year earlier and is ostensibly a mix between CGI and practical effects. It holds up way better.

Godzilla (1998) then may have been one of the earliest experiments in using just CGI. And while I remember being really impressed by this as a kid, I am less impressed as an adult. I think they should have waited a bit for the technology to develop.

It seems worth noting that this is the first 100% American made Godzilla movie. It’s mentioned in the special features that the team took explicit care to pay tribute to the old films, but that they also wanted to update Godzilla’s image for the modern times. That past depictions of the character as slow moving, and with a kind of rubbery appearance were solely the result of the inferior technology of the time (somewhat ironic given how the movie looks now).

If paleontology was having a kind of renaissance in the 1960s, moving away from dinosaurs as slow moving, coldblooded creatures, Godzilla apparently had to wait until the late 1990s to make the same transition.

Though there are plenty of shots in the beginning of the movie which show nuclear testing, and poor iguanas getting irradiated, this element of the plot seems to get forgotten pretty quickly as the film progresses. The capacity for destruction inherent in nuclear weapons just doesn’t feel top of mind while watching this film which is interesting because the infamous “search for weapons of mass destruction” would begin just three years later after 9/11 in 2001. The Godzilla of this movie is hardly a metaphor, just a really big lizard.

This is felt in a few ways, perhaps most noticeably in the choice to get rid of Godzilla’s beam attack. The movie tries to pay homage to it, by making Godzilla’s roar so fierce that it explodes the gas tanks of a few taxi cabs which then ignite in flame as they fly through the air (which is still an awesome effect), but I think this more ‘realistic’ approach perhaps takes a bit away from what people really love about the franchise. Probably why this film is the only time we see this version of Godzilla.

I was also surprised by how sympathetic Godzilla is. The viewer obviously knows that he must die because he’s wreaking havoc, but you really don’t want him to. If I ever go back and watch some earlier movies I’ll be curious to see if this element is present but it seems to get picked up in the Godzilla x Kong franchise.

Finally, I’m still somewhat marveling at the choice of Matthew Broderick for the role of leading man. I still haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (a classic I know) so probably the movie that Broderick stands out in my mind for most, is Inspector Gadget (another great 1999 film lol). I don’t really think of him as a heart-throb the way the movie kind of portrays him. Also, his comedic timing in this movie is just kind of bizarre. It’s funny but also doesn’t quite seem to fit the film.

In any case, despite the criticism I’ve leveled above, I still had a great time rewatching this film. I’m not generally one for nostalgia, but as time goes on, I realize I’m as susceptible to it as anyone.

Give Godzilla (1998) a watch?

Yea. If you’ve never seen it, you may find it a bit strange, and the old CGI is almost comical, however it still is a fun movie. For die-hard Godzilla franchise fans, it’s probably not going to be your favorite as the film does try to reinvent this beloved character. I can’t say that I’m a huge fan of the franchise, however, I feel like this film doesn’t quite hit the mark, and audiences must have felt the same as we only ever see this version of the character in this film despite a huge loose end in the final shot which suggests a sequel.

But, taken on its own, the movie is quite enjoyable, and pretty funny in places. A definite recommendation from me.

That’s all I have for this week. Who else has seen this film? What are your thoughts? Should they have stuck with this new version of Godzilla? Or kept the old image intact? Which Godzilla franchise movie is your favorite?!

Looking forward to talking about this one! Leave your thoughts in the comments!

See you next time!

Effortless Awe: Why Sword of the Sea is 2025’s Coolest Surprise

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Without a doubt, Sword of the Sea is the most effortless fun I’ve had playing a game in 2025. Sit down, start up, be amazed. It’s really that simple.

I almost started this review by saying that Sword of the Sea was the BEST game I’ve played in 2025, but then I remembered that I finished God of War 1 earlier in March and decided not to dethrone that giant so whimsically for a pint-sized tale I finished in an afternoon. But I heavily considered it.

And perhaps that’s because the two games have quite a few elements in common though I find it unlikely they would ever come up in the same conversation at a party. Both take an unorthodox — and frankly awesome — approach to weaponry (chain-blades vs surf-sword). Both have absolutely larger-than-life epic settings filled with enormous statues, rich lore, and an evolving map which becomes more and more incredible with each new puzzle solved.

For Sword of the Sea, obviously the main draw of the setting is the kind of “hidden ocean” which lurks just underneath the surface, causing vast sandy deserts to ripple in waves (reminiscent of the spore oceans in Tress of the Emerald Sea), or a snowy tundra to . . . well also behave like the sea.

It seems like Giant Squid knew exactly what they were doing in making such an strange but cool concept compulsively playable. By adding an understated, yet instinctual, Tony-Hawk-style trick system, complete with grabs, spins, sword-flips and chain-grinds, players have as much fun just moving about the world as they do solving the puzzles or progressing the story.

And boy is that story compelling for all that it is pretty sparsely told. After the initial cut scene of the main character’s initial ‘awakening’ (a drop of water hits a terracotta-like statue animating it), the player is pretty much left to their own devices, exploring the world, and receiving dribs and drabs of story through the discovery of poems etched in stellae throughout the various environments. A few more cut scenes are sprinkled in here and there which showcase a few twists, but even these leave most of the heavy narrative lifting for the player as there is (I think) zero dialogue in the game.

In a show like PRIMAL, or a comic like Age of Reptiles Ancient Egyptians, the lack of dialogue is a choice that imparts several messages to the viewer/reader. It reinforces the ancientness of the setting, and the brutality of the world. It increases the sense of tension as most people are generally ill equipped to handle silence. It’s why the best reporters generally ask the least amount of questions during interviews, allowing the other person to fill in the “blank air”, which they often do compulsively.

The lack of dialogue functions a bit differently in Sword of the Sea. It still prompts the player’s mind to fill in the “blank air” when it comes to the story, however the experience is wholly less anxiety inducing, and even perhaps the opposite: a calm (dare I say cozy?) experience in which the imagination is inspired to wander, much as the player wanders each landscape.

Another aspect of the game which provides a sense of calm (and beauty) is its soundtrack. I did not go back to verify this, but as the credits scroll by at the end, it feels like a solid third to half of the names listed are involved in music production or sound design in some capacity, with a host of choirs and other performers noted for their contributions to the game. You can just tell that a lot of thought and effort was put into this game’s soundtrack, and the results are absolutely stunning to listen to. There were several moments throughout the game where I stopped surfing around just to listen to the music (usually overlooking some incredible scenery).

Finally, and perhaps most obviously, Sword of the Sea is just a beautiful game to look at. Whether it’s a vast expanse of sun-bathed desert, spots of crystal-clear sea out of which fly a pilgrimage of emancipated sea creatures, or some massive superstructure which looms large like the Tower of Babel reaching for the heavens, every visual in this game is meant to impress. To inspire awe. To take one’s breath away.

I had been (ahem) speechless at the beauty on display in Chants of Sennaar (ayy speaking of big towers), but I think Sword of the Sea may be even a bit more impressive. And seemingly limitless in its capacity for photo ops. Like what other game allows you to do tail grabs while riding a great white shark? Or uncover an Elasmosaur tomb? Simply incredible.

Elasmosaur Tomb

I suppose I don’t HAVE TO offer any criticism about Sword of the Sea, however I did have one small complaint, which was that the final encounter felt a bit weak. I really LOVE that Sword of the Sea is really NOT a combat focused game. Aside from the final encounter at the end, I’m not sure the player even has the opportunity to KILL anything which was refreshing and inspiring. However, in the final scene of the game, their is a kind of snake-like enemy which you ‘fight’ to save the newly freed sea-world you’ve worked all game to unchain. And the fight just felt a bit . . . easy?

It relies on a kind of timed sequence of button presses to complete attacks, actually very similar to the cinematic fights in the aforementioned God of War games. However, in God of War, these sequences are randomized, and (for me) actually pretty tough to complete, often requiring several ‘deaths’ and repetitions to get the timing right. I kinda wish Sword of the Sea would have leaned a little more heavily into that for its final scene.

MC rides a great white shark breaching water as trails of sharks swim behind
Like seriously how awesome is this?

So, give Sword of the Sea a playthrough?

Absolutely! As I stated in the opening, this is some of the most fun I’ve had playing a videogame in 2025. The initial premise of a hidden ocean on which you surf atop a giant sword is already cooler than nearly anything else I’ve heard of this year. Combine that with a compelling (but silent) story, an incredible soundtrack, and stunning visuals, and you’ve got me shopping around for awards for which to submit this too.

My only criticism is that I think the ending could have been a little more challenging, however, I loved that Sword of the Sea is not a ‘fighting game’, and so it seems to make sense that the only real fight in the story would feel kind of glossed over.

What does everyone else think? Is this game on your to-play list? Have any already sped through it like I did? What was your favorite part? Which setting did you want to spend more time in? And what questions are you still thinking about when it came to plot?

As always, leave your answers in the comments. I can’t wait to talk about this one!

See you next time . . .