Ahem! (Publication Announcement)

I'm really pleased to be able to confirm that my story "Put Your Lights On" is available (to read for free) in the February 2015 The Sirens Call eZine "Whispers In The Dark", which also celebrates Women In Horror Month.  I'm extremely lucky that this is my third publication with the eZine and that the story was accepted for this issue particularly.

Ahem! (Publication Announcement)

I received an e-mail the other evening confirming that my story "Dealbreaker" will feature in J.A.Mes Press's Halloween themed anthology "In Creeps The Night" for which 100% of the book sales benefit the Mothers Without Borders charity.  Further announcement related to the publication date to follow in due course for those who are interested in having a read!

2014 – A Year In Anticipation

The start of a new year means I’m already thinking about the books which are likely to feature on my reading list over the next twelve months.  There are several I’m already aware of with imminent release dates over the next couple of months I thought I’d flag here:-

January/February Release Dates

The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two (UK release date 16/1/014 – hardcover) – the third volume in Catherynne M Valente's Fairyland series featuring September, a human girl who travels to the Fairyland referred to in the title and meets a number of interesting individuals, some of whom become her friends.  To date, I’ve loved this inventive and original fantasy series with its quirky humour and enjoyed the illustrations which accompany it too.  The opportunity to return to Fairyland is welcome.   

Locke and Key: Volume 6 Alpha and Omega (release date 18/2/014 – hardcover) – I’ve been waiting patiently for the final consolidated volume of Joe Hill's graphic novel series, which I’ve previously mentioned and recommended on the blog.  It will be interesting to see how the narrative arc here plays out. 

The Islands of Chaldea (release date 27/2/014 – hardcover) - I’ve seen mention of a new Diana Wynne Jones book during my travels on the internet – from what I understand, this is a younger read (so so-called MG, Middle Grade), as opposed to YA as such and stems from Wynne Jones’ unfinished manuscript which has been completed by her sister, Ursula Jones.  I’ll definitely be taking a look, given the chance to sample further work from one of my favourite authors.  The brief blurb suggests an initial premise similar to that covered by Wynne Jones’ Witch Week in terms of magical heritage and geographical barriers dictating access (or lack thereof of access) to magic.  I’m guessing, however, the narrative will take us somewhere else entirely by its conclusion.  I’m looking forward to the transportation.

Playing Catch Up

There are still several novels published in 2013 that I haven’t yet had chance to get to – as ever!  Those mentioned below are just a sample:-

Hild by Nicola Griffith – this has been mentioned a number of times on sites/via Twitter as a recommended read, making me curious to check it out. 

To quote from the Publisher’s blurb (full copy available at the author’s website here): 

"Hild is born into a world in transition.  In seventh century Britain, small kingdoms are merging, usually violently.  …Hild is the king’s youngest niece.  She has the powerful curiosity of a bright child, a will of adamant, and a way of seeing the world—of studying nature, of matching cause with effect, of observing her surroundings closely and predicting what will happen next—that can seem uncanny, even supernatural, to those around her.

She establishes a place for herself in court as the king’s seer.  And she is indispensable—unless she should ever lead the king astray.  The stakes are life and death: for Hild, her family and loved ones, and for the increasing numbers of those who seek the protection of the strange girl who can read the world and see the future.”

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie – this is another one which keeps popping up as a recommended read (sample excerpt available on the author’s website here) and seems to be described as a combination of SF adventure by way of space opera.  I want to check this one out, time allowing.

Love Minus Eighty by Will McIntosh – the premise for McIntosh’s sci-fi novel set in a future dystopian New York City (that of “frozen Bridesicle” women revived to participate in on demand dating) intrigues me.  Without having yet had time to track down a copy of the Hugo winning short story it originates from, the novel seems (potentially, at least) to delve into Whedon-esque Dollhouse territory.  Thus, I'm interested to see how the romance angle and agency are dealt with, these being tricky aspects for commentary in light of the subject matter.

In the TBR Pile

Running with a common theme, there are still a number of books already purchased and patiently waiting for me to get to them in amongst everything else:-

Neil Gaiman's Fortunately, The Milk has been sitting at the top of my pile for a little while.  I may even have been saving it consciously for the point where the festive season was over and the Day Job kicked in…

Stephen King's Doctor Sleep is there too.  The chance to read the follow up to The Shining is one couldn't pass up on.  (Also – Stephen King recently joined the realms of Twitter for those who are interested!)

Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch – yes, the one everyone’s been talking about for quite a while.  I caught up on The Secret History a while after all of the buzz and need to set aside sufficient time to devote to this one’s 784 pages (hardcover version).

Just For Fun

Horror-style haiku!

No body’s perfect

Certainly not mine – not now

Rot long past skin deep

Gristly old man bones

Unappetising dinner

Got stuck in my teeth

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Something Sinister Lurks…

In the Tall Grass...

In The Tall Grass is a Stephen King Joe Hill novella collaboration previously released as a two–parter within Esquire and recently released in e-book and audiobook format.  The story begins when a brother and sister pull off to the side of the road after hearing a young boy call for help from beyond the tall grass which forms the title to the story.  Within minutes they have somehow become separated, disoriented and unaccountably lost.  Gradually, they realise something is toying with them, blurring the lines of reality, so that they end up travelling in circles; close to one another and yet never able to reach one another, even when apparently within close proximity and able to converse. 

The premise of the situation is simple and touches upon themes previously addressed within King’s works (Firestarter and Children of the Corn come to mind in respect of the “tall grass”) and it works.  We, the reader, are taken into dark territory, here.  The narrative is disconcerting and, in places, physically and conceptually disturbing, without getting spoiler specific – so, not for the faint at heart.  Ultimately, both characters and situation turn full circle, adding to the sense of a complete narrative arc and claustrophobia of the scenario, from which, it seems, there is no escape.  This leaves a lingering sense of the inevitable on which to ponder as the story closes, as well as a possible need to clean up from the gore.  Chilling and bloody.

As an added bonus, the e-book format includes excerpts from the forthcoming Dr Sleep from King, sequel to The Shining and the beginning of Hill’s forthcoming NOS4R2.  Incidentally, NOS4R2 is already on my TBR’s mental listing…  

A Survivor’s Story (Graphic Illustrations Series)

The Walking Dead will need little introduction to many who have already seen the ABC series.  Having recently caught up on Season Two via DVD, I figured it was about time to avail myself of the graphic novel series from which the series originated.

“The continuing story of survival horror” referred to on the cover to the volume does a good job of summarising precisely what it is the covers conceal between them – the story of a group of survivors who are fighting against the odds for their lives in a post-apocalyptic world which has been overrun by zombies.  (If you opt for the hardcover volume, as opposed to the trade paperbacks, you get the first two volume trade paperbacks within the one hardcover format, here.) 

The story concentrates predominantly upon Rick Grimes, a cop in a former life, his wife, Lori, their son, Carl and the people whom the family have found themselves surrounded by during the course of their journey to date as they travel around America, seeking to stay alive and fight off the ever present danger to which they are forced to remain alert. 

We begin with Rick’s wakening from a coma in hospital, surrounded by the undead, travelling rapidly to Atlanta and beyond, as he searches for his family in amongst the chaos, confusion and walking dead or “walkers” as they subsequently become known.

Pushed to the limits as they are by the circumstances within which the group and the others they  encounter along the way are, the graphic novel series is a study in human psychology and the lengths to which individuals are willing (or otherwise) to go to survive.  Unsurprisingly, the necessity for unceasing vigilance drives some to lengths to which they had not possibly considered they were be willing to go.  There are those who do not survive, whether as a direct result of zombie attack or otherwise.  Similarly, characters are shown to clash over decisions and judgment calls – frequently.  Given the pressure they remain under at every stage, this is scarcely surprising.  No one individual is perfect or remains infallible in the face of danger; particularly given the high stakes.  In this kind of scenario there are no genuinely easy answers.  One wrong decision results in loss of life - possibly the decision-maker’s own.  Small wonder there is a tendency towards aggression once the immediate zombie-related threat has passed.   

The lack of certainty as to who will stay safe from one day to the next feels real and adds to the sense of threat under which the group travel.  Similarly, the geographic boundaries of the narrative switch rapidly, with the group changing location a number of times, given winding down too much could result in their premature death.  No one resting place remains secure for long, with the nomadic group forced to relocate, their RV being the only constant within the equation.  This keeps both characters and reader on their toes, as we are unsure from which direction the next threat to their existence may come.  In some instances, this stems from the individuals they encounter.  In others, the threat is more mundane; such as a lack of fuel for transportation, leaving them momentarily stranded.  Again, this builds upon the overall concept of survival horror.  Practicalities are a necessary evil; even in a world overrun by the undead.  Food is just as essential as shelter and Kirkman ensures we are aware of this along the way.

Further, the constant shadow of death is seen to have an impact in each instance on those who are left behind.  We see those who struggle to reconcile themselves with the fact that friends and family have passed beyond their aid and seeking to maintain compassion for those who have succumbed along the way, as well as the longer term effects of coming to terms with loss.  Whilst the narrative is violent and pulls no punches in terms of the manner in which the characters are dispatched, it never feels gratuitous. 

Ultimately, this is a gripping and pacey character driven tale of humanity, rendered beautifully in black and white (or grey) throughout.  The narrative zips past, leaving the reader wholly committed to following the future turmoil surrounding the group by its conclusion.  As you may have gathered, I will be back for more.    

The Worst Things Come In Small Packages...

“When Judas Coyne heard someone was selling a ghost on the internet, there was no question what he was going to do.  It was perfect for his collection of the macabre and the grotesque: the cannibal’s cookbook, the witch’s confession, the authentic snuff movie.  As an ageing death-metal-rock-God, buying a ghost almost qualifies as a business expense.

Besides, Jude thinks he knows all about ghosts, Jude has been haunted for years…by the spirits of bandmates dead and gone, the spectre of the abusive father he fled as a child, and the memory of the girl he abandoned, who killed herself.  But this ghost is different.  Delivered to his doorstep in a black heart-shaped box, the latest addition to Jude’s collection makes the house feel cold.  It makes the dogs bark.  And it means to chase Jude from his home and make him run for his life…"

It was the modern slant within the premise of this novel which reeled me in initially.  After all – why not someone seeking to sell a ghost on the internet?  Dante Knoxx famously sought to auction his soul to the highest bidder via ebay before he was banned for doing so for breaching one of the firm’s policies and the listing was pulled by the site.  (This also puts me in mind of the occasion upon which GameStation inserted an "immortal soul" clause into online contracts as an April Fool’s Day joke.)

Heart-Shaped Box, is however, much more than simply the promise of its premise and a powerful page-turner – although it is undoubtedly both of these too.  Joe Hill's debut novel is, ultimately, an examination of the human condition with psychological depth. 

At the outset of the novel, Jude Coyne, the main protagonist, is a man who has “worked his way through a collection of goth girlfriends” who have “stripped, or told fortunes, or stripped and told fortunes, pretty girls” adorned with “ankhs and black fingernail polish” who he names solely by their “state of origin”.  His present girlfriend, whom he has dubbed Georgia, is twenty-three to his fifty four years of age.  He appears to demonstrate little real regard for her, beyond an appreciation for her goth “adoration” and other adult-oriented benefits of her youth.  Indeed, his stall is set out early in the narrative when he notes that each of his girlfriends, Georgia included, want the “harshness” he provides for them – thus no-one goes away “disappointed”.  Even if at first the end of the relationship and necessity to leave isn’t appreciated by them, they “always” work it out “eventually”.

The clever aspect of the narrative is the manner in which Hill “strips back” the layers surrounding Coyne’s heart and provides us with a man seeking some form of redemption and forgiveness.  Gradually, we learn that the last of Jude’s former girlfriends, Georgia’s predecessor, so to speak, whom he had nicknamed Florida, fared badly as a result of his treatment, given she was predisposed to depression – something Jude had found himself unable to cope with once it spiralled out of control.  Now Craddock, the girl’s stepfather (and the ghost whose suit is proffered via the website in the heart-shaped box of the title) is out for revenge.  This affords us the opportunity to explore Jude’s disquiet over the manner in which he shipped Florida back to her family, particularly once he becomes aware that her background was considerably more complex that he had envisaged and the support he had presumed would be afforded her was lacking.  Via the gradual breaking down of barriers, we come to see that Jude is far removed from the unsympathetic character we are introduced to at the outset of the narrative.

Heart-Shaped Box is very much a novel centring upon haunted individuals in both the literal and figurative sense.  Jude, Florida and even Georgia, or Mary-Beth Kimball, as we come to know her during the course of the novel, are haunted by their past, whether as a result of their own previous actions or those of others in their interactions with them.  It is once these actions are confronted that they take on genuine resonance for the reader – once we come to know them fully, “warts and all”.  Broken and flawed, capable of mistakes, sometimes multiple, we feel for them nevertheless.  Confrontation leads to knowledge and acceptance and, in the case of Jude and Mary-Beth, becomes a dialogue of love against the odds.  Ultimately, this is a touching rumination on the possibility of redemption and human frailty in its various guises.  

Ahem! Announcements, ahoy! (All Hallow’s Read)

Autumn is upon us already and the nights are closing in, which makes it time to give a mention to Neil Gaiman's pet project for the month, All Hallow's Read.  The premise itself is simple – during the week of Hallowe’en or on the night itself, you give someone a scary book (interpretation of “scary” being at the whim of the giver).  There are even a number of suggestions concerning potentially suitable books on the relevant website, organised by age range.

Why not give it a try this year and spread the word?  Equally, feel free to add your recommendations for suitably scary books within the “comments” section below!

And another thing - reviews for “scary” books and short stories will follow throughout the month of October in the build up towards Hallowe’en!

Chilling With Chilling Tales (Selective Shorts Series)

I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion how much I enjoy reading short fiction, whether in the form of a collection or in singular format, in magazines, both hard copy and online.  Given this, I wanted to contribute a review or two concentrating on specific stories I’ve come across during my random readings (hence the reference to the “Selective Shorts Series”), purely on an ad hoc, as and when basis.

First up is Barbara Roden's contribution to the Canadian horror fiction collection, Chilling Tales – 404.  Essentially, at its most basic level, the story is one concerning office workers under pressure within a corporate environment.  So far, so familiar, in terms of its premise.  The initial dialogue confirms a colleague’s office is empty, save for the remaining desk and chair, even though neither of the two workers conversing had been aware he was due to leave.  Wilson, one of the two, appears to have been allocated a number of the files which had been being dealt with by the now absent Dwight; files which have simply appeared on his desk overnight without an explanation or accompanying note.  The “404” of the title refers to the white screen confirming “file not found” which is pulled up by a search for Dwight’s profile on the company website after his somewhat mysterious disappearance.

From this set up, we gradually become aware that it is not only Dwight who has become absent from the office and paranoia sets in amongst the workforce, who are under the supervision of a seemingly increasingly sinister supervisor intent upon enforcing the stringent regulations put in place by the company.  Ultimately, this causes them to question their sanity and sense of self.

A fun and slightly tongue in cheek tale about the office environment, as well as a brief commentary upon the malleability of words and documentation, subject to the interpretation placed upon them.

A Couple of Other Things:

Those wishing to sample Roden’s work can find an example of one her short stories, The Appointed Time, freely available on her website here.   

Also – a couple of blog entries concerning the editing process for those interested in the structural aspects of writing:- here and here.

Freaking Out Over Freax and Rejex

Freax and Rejex marks Jarvis' return to the realm of Dancing Jax, a world within which the book of the same name has lulled the vast majority of the British population into a state almost demonic possession where they are convinced of their “true” identity within the sinister fairy tale realm of Mooncaster.  Those who submit to the influence of Austerly Fellows’ occultist text become part of his “magickal Kingdom” and a member of its playing card-based Court.  As a result of this, they also become devoted and submissive to his proclaimed figurehead in our “real” world (which they consider to be a pale imitation of that which they inhabit when in Mooncaster), the Ismus.

Where Dancing Jax concentrated predominantly upon setting up the Court itinerary, Freax and Rejex has its focus firmly upon those teenagers upon whom the lure of the text has no effect – the so-called “Aberrants” who find themselves persecuted, both for being different to what has become established as the “norm” and for what is deemed as resistance to the new British regime and, thus, subversive and dangerous. 

By the outset of the second book within the Dancing Jax trilogy, the text has been published on a wide-scale basis and we are made aware via the “Baxter Blog”, a singular website of resistance hosted via a Dutch server (and scrambled via other channels), that the vast majority of those who sought to protest against the hostile takeover of the Jax regime have been silenced and force fed sections of the text.  As a result, they have become one of the mass of “brainwashed sheep” who now populate the British Empire.  There remain a “scant few” who still resist, whether simply via avoidance of the book or natural immunity.  Martin Baxter, writer of the many times re-established “Baxter blog” and one of the few resistant individuals remaining by the conclusion of the first book in the trilogy, urges those few resistant individuals to abandon Britain, a “finished” country, via his escape route, suitably protected by safeguards put in place to ensure those who have fled are not discovered.

By ensuring his audience is reminded of the risks of resistance in this manner, Jarvis establishes a clear sense of threat at an early stage.  Further, we see the first death before the conclusion of the first chapter, meaning we are aware nothing is certain and the security of characters to whom we have been introduced is not guaranteed.  Without giving away the fate of specific characters, this is something which continues throughout the narrative.

Not content with the chilling effect produced by the first book’s cult-style parallels and premise, Jarvis seeks to up the ante within the second.  A weekend of “glorious Mooncaster-themed fun” has been organised for children aged between seven and sixteen who have not yet “found their way” into the Realm of the Dawn Prince, otherwise also known as Mooncaster.  As might be expected, the Ismus intends for this to form part of a global publicity campaign aimed at “damage limitation” in light of the rumours circulating concerning his bid for the minds of the populace, whilst also ultimately serving his own means and ends.

The “weekend” camp is filled with a hot potch of characters from across the nation and for whom, similarly to a Big Brother style situation, close proximity, coupled with the stresses of the growing realisation that there is no intention to release them from the confines of the camp once they have crossed the threshold, prove too much.  The initial games and feasts give way rapidly to enforced reading of the “hallowed” text and declaration that the teenagers are to be deemed “internees” of the camp, subject to supervision by guards and capable of punishment in the event of disobedience.  By this stage, the holocaust parallels are obvious.  Sure enough, those who have travelled to what has been specified as a “holiday camp” are set to physical labour, forced to “earn” their place within the facility.  At sixteen, they are advised they will be relocated to an adult camp.

Jarvis cleverly subverts our expectations in connection with the teenage “interns”, by ensuring the stereotypical views we might hold of “chavvy” Charm and the arrogant Marcus, for example, do not ultimately prove to be sure-fire.  Once again, as with Jax, his skill in ensuring his characters’ dialogue rings true and in demonstrating regional accents simply via his choice of words and sentence construction adds to the equation.  Ultimately, a number of the characters who appear weaker at the outset or less likely to succeed are those we find ourselves rooting for as they attempt to pit themselves against the will and control of the Ismus and his itinerary.

Whilst we see some of the creatures known to frequent Mooncaster within the camp’s bounds during the course of the narrative, arguably, it is not as a result of these threats that we are subject to the greatest sense of horror.  Frequently, the treatment to which the children are subject makes for extremely uncomfortable reading, whether or not blood is shed and there is one specific example towards the conclusion of the narrative which provides a particularly harsh psychological blow and gut wrenching moment, for the reader and characters alike. The more susceptible might find themselves looking away from the page for a moment, as this is definitely not a read for the faint hearted.   Here, Jarvis also provides a clever contrast between the manner in which Ismus’s Lockpick treats the children, toying with them whilst doing so and the more obvious cruelty of the Punchinello guards. 

Ultimately, it is the manner in which the children see their personal identity eroded and the frequent sense of a lack of control over events which comes across particularly clearly via the events and this which is especially disconcerting.  The immediacy with which social media and the reach of the internet is both able to aid and hinder the spread of the “Jax” manuscript is also an aspect which is hinted at by the author and thus proves itself interesting to speculate upon.  It appears fitting that this is something which is alluded to but that throughout the bulk of the novel that Jarvis concerns himself predominantly with maintaining his overreaching focus upon the fates of the children within the camp.  By the conclusion, however, this is something which once again comes to the forefront for reasons which will become clear to those who avail themselves of a copy of the book.  In bringing things full circle, Jarvis thus places events in a position so as to leave them ready for the conclusion of the trilogy.  In Fighting Pax the Ismus envisages extending his reach even further than has previously been the case…

Freax and Rejex is, once again, both dark and disturbing and, as such, remains with the reader after the conclusion of the narrative.  The writing is tight and events well-paced, whilst also allowing for satisfying character development.  Pleasingly, the second of the three book story arc also has the clout to stand alone on its own merits, whilst slotting neatly into place for the purposes of the trilogy.  Taken together, this is one trilogy it’s easy to find oneself lured towards reading.

Developing Love For Lovecraft (Graphic Illustrations Series)

For those already initiated into the Hill/Rodriquez realm of Locke and Key, Clockworks, the fifth volume within the saga will need little introduction.  For the previously uninitiated, Locke and Key is centred around Keyhouse, a New England mansion containing doors which transform those who pass through them and which also houses a malevolent creature bent upon opening the most dangerous door of all… 

As is suggested by the title, the “doors” are opened by a succession of keys, capable of everything from transforming an individual into a ghost, to letting one open one’s own head to glimpse the memories it contains within it.

Having relocated to Keyhouse after the murder of their father at the outset of Welcome to Lovecraft, Clockworks sees the Locke family brought full circle, back to the events which precede their arrival at the Keyhouse premises in Massachussetts and which have shaped their nemesis, Lucas “Dodge” Caravaggio prior to his descent into the merciless killer the children are faced with in the present day.  Harking back to past events is of course a pattern which has been seen on a number of occasions throughout the course of the narrative arc.  Clockworks, however, is an opportunity for this aspect to be explored in detail prior to the denouement we are already aware will follow within the forthcoming Omega.

The instalment is timely, given the reader is fully invested within the fate of the Locke children by this stage - and the stakes are high.  Dodge already has control of the youngest Locke sibling Bode's body; something neither Tyler nor Kinsey, his elder brother and sister are aware of.  This grants him unrestricted access to Keyhouse in his search to find the Omega key which will allow him to open the Black Door and release what is contained beyond it.

The timing of Clockworks' explanations is clever.  By holding back on the action and presenting us with an explanation as to how the characters have found themselves in the present position, the conclusion itself is guaranteed additional impact and resonance.  Having already seen the children in the aftermath of their father's death and the manner in which they are forced to cope with it, whilst simultaneously finding their feet at a new school and establishing new social circles, we now see the manner in which the death itself will come to pass, given we are privy to Dodge's transformation from friend to foe.  Thus pre-prepared for the way in which the death will ultimately affect the children, the foreshadowing of it via flashback hits home more sharply than if the chronology had been reversed.

Further, the exploration of the relationship between Rendell, the Locke children's father, and the boy who will subsequently become Dodge renders the character much more than simply a cardboard cut-out villain bound upon a course of evil from which he cannot deviate simply for plot purposes.

Sacrifice and the extent to which this is necessary for Dodge to be successfully defeated is a key theme (no pun intended) within Clockworks.  This applies not only to Rendell, the children's father but also a number of the members of his original band of friends.  Thus, there are echoes of the Spiderman motto concerning the great power accompanying great responsibility here.  Ultimately, this is shadowed by regret at its misuse by the time we have explored the manner in which Dodge becomes evil and origins of the keys we have seen the children utilise throughout the story arc.

In amongst the question answering we also see exactly how Erin lost her memories, what lies behind the door Dodge seeks to open and even how Dodge became the girl first encountered in Welcome to Lovecraft, all of which is dealt with in a suitably satisfying manner, as opposed to simply feeling like loose ends being tied with haste.  Again, this is another example of the manner in which the narrative has come full circle for the purposes of the present volume.

Neither narrative nor illustrations pull any punches and Dodge's anticipation of his first killing spree is provided in a gory two page spread towards the conclusion of the volume well deserving of its multiple Eisner nominations.  Both are equally apt (if not for the faint hearted) and provide a clear example of the extent to which the storytelling abilities of both writer and illustrator mesh so successfully throughout Locke and Key.  Possibly, therefore, the only negative aspect of Locke and Key is that Omega marks the final chronological volume of our journey within the original world of Keyhouse and its inhabitants.

Picking Your Team

“Just because Mel lives in New Whitby, a city founded by vampires, doesn’t mean she knows any of the blood-drinking undead personally.  They stay in their part of town; she stays in hers.  Until the day a vampire shows up at her high school.  Worse yet, her best friend, Cathy, seems to be falling in love with him.  It’s up to Mel to save Cathy from a mistake she might regret for all eternity.

On top of trying to help Cathy (whether she wants her to or not), Mel is investigating a mysterious disappearance for another friend and discovering the attractions of a certain vampire wannabe.  Combine all this with a vampire cop, a number of unlikely romantic entanglements, and the occasional zombie, and soon Mel is hip-deep in an adventure that is equal parts hilarious and touching.”

Team Human is a collaborative novel from the pens of authors Justine Larbalestier and Sarah Rees Brennan (who blogs here), produced as a result of a mutual love of vampires and romance, both of which feature largely within the plot of the aforementioned work.  More than this, it is also a tongue in cheek look at the vampire literature genre post Twilight, when the species must automatically be both attractive and sparkly.  Not only is account taken of the world-wide spread of Meyer’s work, there are also sly references to the attraction of high school for the undead which are seen within television programmes such as The Vampire Diaries (and L J Smith herself) and a dedication to the works of John Ajvide Lindqvist, Tanya Huff, Stephen King, Bram Stoker and Charlaine Harris, amongst others.  It is also a lot of fun, being a self-confessed parody.  For Bella and Edward, read Cathy and Francis; without the addition of a Jake character or love triangle.  Vampires walk in broad daylight – encased in Hazmat suits.

Starting out as a Team Vampire versus Team Human standoff, Team Human becomes more than this.  Mel makes for a spiky, yet plucky heroine, equipped with the ability to produce a quick quip where needed.  Cathy demonstrates that her determination to become a vampire is more considered than simply a need to be with Francis for eternity.  Ultimately, this ensures Mel is forced to confront her initial pre-conceptions concerning “Team Vampire” and understand the choices made by others – even if these are not the choices which she would make for herself.  It is also a narrative about love for others and the nature of friendship, clearly demonstrated by the nature of the changing (yet unchanged) relationship between Mel and Cathy.

Team Human is also a book which centres around the issue of emotion – something highlighted by the fact that, for the purposes of this narrative, vampires are incapable of laughter or crying.  Emotional ties are also a central part of the “mystery” sub-plot introduced by Larbalestier and Rees Brennan and form an important aspect of Kit’s (Mel’s love interest) ultimate decision as to whether to become a full member of his “Shade” or to remain human.

Despite being written by two separate authors (or perhaps because of it), the narrative within Team Human flows.  Ultimately, what starts out as a mix of parody and satire becomes more than the sum of its parts and holds a certain charm of its own.  

A Monstrous Undertaking

“The monster showed up after midnight.  As they do.  But it isn’t the monster Conor’s been expecting.  He’s been expecting the one from his nightmare, the nightmare he’s had nearly every night since his mother started her treatments, the one with the darkness and the wind and the screaming…

This monster, though, is something different.  Something ancient, something wild.  And it wants the most dangerous thing of all from Conor.

It wants the truth.”

A Monster Calls comes complete with a number of accolades, being both the winner of the CILIP Carnegie Medal for children’s literature and its companion prize for illustration, the Kate Greenaway Medal – these within the same year, no less.  It is a deserving winner on both counts and marks a second Carnegie Medal win for Patrick Ness; also second year running in terms of recognition via the award. 

On this occasion, however, Ness cannot take the entire credit for the novel, nor does he make any attempt to do so.  As has been readily acknowledged, the premise for the novel (written by Ness) stems from the final story idea of Siobhan Dowd, a previous Carnegie Medal winner herself, who died of breast cancer in 2008.  She provided the name Conor for the novel’s main protagonist and the concept of the storytelling yew tree giant who materialises in Conor’s bedroom from which the narrative develops.  These had been set out within e-mails to her commissioning editor.  The concept of the novel’s opening had also been produced in draft.  When Dowd died sooner than had been anticipated, Ness was asked by Dowd’s editor to produce a novel inspired by the original idea.  This he describes as having been “handed a baton” which he invites the reader to “run with”.  He dedicates the finished novel to Dowd, noting this would have been her fifth book, had she been afforded the time to complete it.

A Monster Calls is, at the outset, the story of Conor, a thirteen year old boy, whose mother is seriously ill and who is visited by a figure in the shape of a yew tree, who tells him stories.  It is, however, much more than this.  Similarly to Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, Conor is informed he will receive three visitations, following which the yew tree will extract one “truth” from him himself.  Again, similarly to Scrooge, Conor will be changed by the experience, for “stories are the wildest things of all”, according to the monster.  “Stories chase and bite and hunt”.

A Monster Calls is indeed a dark and haunting novel, dealing with a troubled teenager brought face to face with his mother’s battle with cancer (although the illness itself is never named at any stage during the narrative).  He is the subject of school yard bullying and the offspring of divorced parents; issues which are also seen to have an effect upon him within the body of the novel. 

Conor is shown to be both isolated and frightened as a result of his mother’s ill health – he struggles socially, becoming noticeably withdrawn, save for his dealings with the yew tree monster; a figure he tells himself he is simply imagining, although his floor is covered with red yew tree berries and spiky leaves when he wakes post visitation.

The nightmarish quality of Conor’s dealings with the yew tree monster are highlighted by Jim Kay's black and white illustrations throughout.  Here, the lack of colour adds, as opposed to detracts from their power, making them shadowy and affecting – in some cases they span a double page within the hard copy format of the novel or completely surround the words upon the page, adding to the broody and ominous overtones within the artwork.  (Do yourself a favour – opt for the physical version of this one, as opposed to the e-book format on this score; similarly, make your way across to Kay's website to sample other examples of his work).

Ness utilises clear and simple language throughout, the result of which is that the emotional intensity of the narrative is communicated to the reader without ceremony.  Nor is it needed – the direct nature in which the story is addressed and its simplicity emphasise its subject matter.  Concise prose aside, however, Ness refuses to let his readers off lightly.  There is plenty of food for thought for both younger and older readers alike.  The parables with which Conor is regaled by the yew tree monster are shown to be deceptive in their conclusions and ambiguous in terms of interpretation.  As such, they lead Conor to question himself and to enter into questionable behaviour.  This makes him both human and a similarly shadowy individual to that which visits him at 12.07 on each occasion - and all the more compelling for it.  Black and white become murky and populate the grey “somewhere in between” which is also illustrated within the yew tree’s stories.

 

This brings matters back to the concept of storytelling and the power it can create.  Stories can prompt change; the truth, palatable or otherwise, is capable of making a difference.  Thus, Conor must face his own truths and tell the hardest story of them all – the fourth story of the novel; his own.  His struggle to do so towards the conclusion of the narrative is described in the blurb on the back cover as both “harrowing” and “transcendent”.  Unsurprisingly, this means A Monster Calls does not make for what might constitute a comfortable read on occasion.  Nevertheless, it is one which should not be missed.  It is one which will linger beyond the concluding prose and illustrations.    

On Your Marks...

It being approximately halfway through the year and also summer season, I thought it was about time to collect together a list of a couple of the books I’ve read so far this year and haven’t had chance previously to post a comprehensive review for.

Michelle Hodkin's The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer – the story of a girl calling herself Mara (although that is not her real name) who wakes up in hospital with no memory of how she got there following an accident she can no longer remember which resulted in the deaths of her friends, although she herself remained unharmed.  A spooky supernatural mystery with a romantic sub-plot.  (YA/fantasy/horror/romance/spec fic.)

Margo Lanagan's The Brides of Rollrock Island (known as Sea Hearts in Australia) – a novella about an island community prone to intermarriage with selkies who are “persuaded” into their human form by the witchcraft of the local seal-witch, Misskaella.  Bleak and compelling.  The narrative is provided from multiple perspectives.  (Fantasy/spec fic.)

Caitlin R. Kiernan's The Drowning Girl – a complex first person narrative by India Morgan Phelps (“Imp”), a schizophrenic woman, who struggles to unravel her encounters with what may be mythical creatures or, alternatively, symptomatic of her illness.  Intricate and raises as many questions as it answers.  A study of an unreliable narrator and mental illness, as well as being a consideration of the nature of truth.  Ambiguous and haunting in its conclusion.  An adult read. (Horror/spec fic.)

Stephen King's Full Dark, No Stars – a collection of four novellas, all dealing with the issue of retribution.  1922 is the murder confession of Wilfred Leland James; Big Driver deals with a mystery writer’s encounter with a stranger during a back road shortcut on her way home.  Fair Extension documents a deal with an individual who sells a variety of differing extensions – for which there is always a price.  A Good Marriage queries the extent to which we can know another person – “even those we love the most”.  Darcy Anderson discovers a box under a worktable whilst her husband is away on a business trip and realises he isn’t the man she had thought he was – just as he is heading home.  Harsh and thought provoking, grisly and graphic illustrations of human behaviour.  Fair Extension represents the most overt reference to the supernatural here. (Horror/novella/collection.)

Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall – which scarcely needs any introduction.  The fictionalised biography documenting the rise to power of Thomas Cromwell within the court of Henry VIII of England which has now been followed by a second part within what is intended to be a trilogy, Bring Up The Bodies.  Winner of the Man Booker Prize and National Book Critics Circle Award.  (Historical fiction.)

Donna Tartt's The Secret History – one I’ve been meaning to get around to reading for a while, given I’d seen a number of positive reviews.  A novel concerning a group of classics students at an elite Amercial college and a Bacchanal which ultimately resembles a Greek tragedy in some respects.  To say much more would compromise the impact of the narrative.  One to experience yourself.  (Contemporary fiction.)

Jo Walton's Among Others – another one I’d heard quite a bit of buzz about before I had the opportunity to read it.  This is one written for anyone who has ever sought consolation or solace between the pages of a book – the narrator, Morwenna Phelps (“Mori”) finds her haven via a local library’s science fiction book club.  Play count the insider references on your way through the narrative – there are an impressive number to note.  This aside, Mori advises us (via her diary entries) she is a girl capable of talking to fairies.  Similarly to The Drowning Girl, it is for the reader to decide whether this is a psychological tool designed to offer comfort from the narrator’s less interesting “real” life or represents a true account of Mori’s suggested powers.  (YA/fantasy/spec fic.)

Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger – a ghost story set in post-war rural Warwickshire in which a doctor is called to a patient at Hundreds Hall, home to the Ayres family for over two centuries.  Slow building, subtle narrative centred around poltergeist activity.  (Contemporary fiction/supernatural.)

Selected Shorts

I’m always interested in short stories, whether singularly or produced as part of a collection or anthology – possibly because I’ve seen numerous references to the suggestion that this is a “dying” art form.  (Stephen King, for one, is an author who fights against this suggestion and, incidentally, looks towards artistic expression in e-format, serialisation; pretty much anything if it gets the words onto paper.  If you haven’t taken a look already, do yourself a favour and look out at least one of his short story collections.  If you’re not a horror fan, why not plump for Different Seasons and read – or even re-read - his novella Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, amongst others?)

This is just a précis of some of my recent reads – and, in a couple of cases re-reads, which would be worth taking a look at.

Stories (Edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio was a compilation I originally picked up a copy of for Gaiman’s novelette The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains and Joe Hill's The Devil on the Staircase (both of which are well worth the time expended in a read of).

 

It was also my introduction to Kat Howard's work, being the volume which contained her first published short story, A Life in Fictions, the tale of a girl who is, quite literally, written into a story by her boyfriend.  Since then I’ve looked up copies of further shorts published by Howard and never yet been disappointed by having done so.  I’d heartedly recommend her Beauty and Disappearance  published in Weird Tales 356 but a number of her short stories have also been published online, such as Choose Your Own Adventure and The Least of the Deathly Arts.

Speaking of Joe Hill, 20^th Century Ghosts also deserves a shout out.  Hill is often coupled with the phrase “son of Stephen King” in write ups but is more than capable of holding his own against the legacy of his father’s writing, on the basis of my reading to date.  Whilst this collection of short stories is predominantly horror based, some of the entries fall outside of this category, such as Pop Art, the story of an inflatable boy or Bobby Conroy Comes Back From the Dead, which simply takes place on the set of a making of George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead.  (Incidentally, if you’re a UK reader, there’s a short film of Pop Art available via the BBC website here, courtesy of Amanda Boyle).

I’ve also looked up a number of Karen Joy Fowler's short stories this year, within her collections, Black Glass and What I Didn’t See.  I particularly enjoyed The Pelican Bar in her 2010 collection (What I Didn’t See), in which Norah is sent to a boarding school with a difference.  To say much more would spoil the impact of the story, so I’d suggest looking it up yourself to get the full effect.

Margo Lanagan is something of an acquired taste for some but her short story collection Black Juice contains the excellent Singing My Sister Down, which was nominated for both the Hugo and Nebula awards for best short story.  It documents the tale of a young boy watching his sister being executed by way of a tar pit for the murder of her husband.

Going Ghostly

“Just your average boy-meets-girl, girl-kills-people story…”  So begins the blurb for Kendare Blake's  Anna Dressed In Blood.  We’re introduced to Cas Lowood, who travels the country, together with his kitchen-witch mother and a cat who can smell the spirits with whom Cas himself comes face to face.  Add in a father whose mantle Cas has taken over, following his demise at the hands of a ghost he set out to kill and who left him partly eaten and so far, so Supernatural.  (Particularly when we first greet Cas as he encounters a hitchhiker behind the wheel of his 1969 Camaro Rally Sport, specially picked for the job at hand). 

It’s when he arrives in the new town of Thunder Bay, Ontario, in search of the spirit known to the locals as “Anna Dressed In Blood” that the Buffy reminiscent narrative really gets going.  Here, Cas encounters the eponymous Anna, who has previously killed each and every person who has set foot inside the Victorian house she previously called home since her death.  For some reason, however, she spares Cas’s life, which leads him to the conclusion that she doesn’t want to kill and is actually possessed by a dark force - the same one which leads her to rip her victims apart and hoard their bodies. 

Despite the YA tag (or, indeed, perhaps because of it), Blake doesn’t hold back from disclosing hard hitting descriptive details when dealing with the deaths during the course of the novel – one character is literally torn in two before our eyes.  Anna’s death, too, pulls no punches and makes for particularly difficult reading, both emotionally and literally; filled with blood, hatred and her desperation to escape during the attack.

The twist in showing Anna as victim as well as killer is an interesting one and one which results in an altogether fresh read, previous Buffy and Supernatural comparisons aside.  Soon enough, Cas is gathering together his new (and only real) set of friends to confront an older and more horrifying threat than that he envisaged facing in Anna herself…

As a reader, you can’t help sympathising with Anna as the narrative progresses and Blake shows similar skill in her general characterisation, avoiding cliché in her depiction of the popular Carmel and the less than popular Thomas, who becomes Cas’s somewhat reluctant sidekick.  It was also nice to see a novel with a strong male protagonist, given the recent apparent trend within the YA genre to view a story arc from the female perspective, a la Hunger Games, Delirium and Divergent, to name but a few.  Cas, too, unsurprisingly, develops from the aloof hunter, alone as a result of his own conscious choice to be so and looking for revenge for his father’s death during the story’s arc.

As an aside, it was also nice to see the attention to detail in the typescript for the novel, which is an off red, similar to the colour of dried blood; particularly fitting for what makes for a clever horror story.  Whilst the ending ties matters together satisfactorily, it also leaves things neatly placed for the forthcoming sequel, Girl of Nightmares, which will be available later this year.