Reviews and Comments

King Sorrow is Stephen King with dragons. Fans of King (Joe Hill's father) will consider this a compliment. Those more critical of the master of horror might find that my comments of King Sorrow mirror their experience with It.

King Sorrow reeled me in with strong character building and a slow introduction to supernatural elements. Any scene with Arthur or Llewellyn was great, and I initially loved the college-aged Losers Club. But what began as a powerful introduction moved swiftly into a slumping middle. While the pacing of Books Two and Three limped along, my dislike for Allie, Van, and Donna only made it worse.

When I was about to throw in the towel, I met Arthur and Colin in Tintagel and the surrounding Cornwall area. Stu Finger and his cave were whimsical, intriguing, and colorful in a way that both excited and infuriated me. If Hill can write like this, I thought, why isn't the whole novel written with such care, poignancy, and concision?

Hill's character development was solid while occasionally repetitive. King Sorrow and the horrible Nightswanders felt like single characteristics personified. All but one death fell flat. Substantial hints were dropped before finding their way into a tense scene. While these criticisms could have faded into the background, it was impossible not to notice them when much of the novel dragged. Joe Hill is a good writer hindered by his popularity. Like Stephen King, a good editor could have tightened the prose, removed unnecessary sections, and imbued the story with more tension.

If you like Stephen King and Joe Hill's other works, I'm sure you'll enjoy King Sorrow. If you're seeking a long trek with urgency, evocative world building, well-constructed character arcs, and three-dimensional villains, I suggest looking elsewhere.

The Soul Delusion, from the start, is not for soul believers. It is for the already soulless, or those who find themselves questioning their possession of a soul. If you're religious or spiritual, this book will likely ruffle your feathers. As an atheist and apsychist (a non-believer in souls), I initially found the tone charming. It quickly grew tiring.

What you're getting with this book is a lot of repetition packaged as academic writing, which it inarguably is. If you read from start to finish, you're likely to grow bored of the gimmick from one chapter to the next. The bibliography is half comments, not proper sources, which devalue the author's arguments. If you're seeking reliable sources and ways in which to dive deeper into the material the author provides, you'll be disappointed.

While there's a lot here to tickle your curiosity, I believe each chapter would do better as its own academic paper. The first half of the book could have easily been condensed into two chapters. The chapter on dualism (while fascinating) is overlong to the point of making itself redundant. The rest, which focuses on other beliefs such as miracles and NDEs, might have been more fascinating if it hadn't come after everything else.

The Soul Delusion would be most fascinating if you're uncertain about souls. As someone who considers themselves hopeful but ultimately apsychist (like myself), you won't be gaining much from this read—unless you're hoping to use the contents in heated arguments amongst friends.

*Thank you to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for the ARC.

Full disclosure: I stopped reading before the end of Part One.

Hiron Ennes's knack for weaving fascinating worlds, as well as the novel's premise, enticed me, but what I hoped would be a feverish romp through a dark fantasy world turned out to be a novel brimming with descriptions and world building and absolutely nothing else. Many of the details were so extravagantly conveyed that I lost myself in the prose and struggled to visualize what was unfolding on the page.

Ennes is a wordsmith who would thrive as a poet. The Works of Vermin lacks cohesive dual storylines and three-dimensional characters, the magical components were never explained, and the purple and florid prose drowned out what I believe would have been great setting and thoughtful story building if the narrative was more concise.

While I wanted to love this novel as much as I did Leech, I could not get past the excessive descriptions and overabundant world building. In this case, the general world building advice (up to 10% of what you know should be in your story) would have done wonders for pacing, enjoyment, and overall readability.

Thank you to Tor and NetGalley for the ARC.

The premise of this novella sounded great but ultimately fell flat. I got through six chapters before putting it down, just shy of halfway through. The pacing was slow even for a fantasy gothic. Phee's emotions and thoughts were conveyed so often that the book might have been more engaging if written in first person. As is, it's repetitive and lacking real depth, only taking up precious space in a novella-length story. I'm all for slow burns, but they require atmosphere, an emotional bond to the character, or intriguing glimpses of the fantastic.

In this instance, the movie was better. While Oliver's narrative is often compelling and humorous, the novel lacks a proper plot and feels more like the disparate events of adolescence than a well-considered story.

If you enjoy slashers, The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre should scratch your murderous itch. While Fracassi does nothing outside the genre's tropes, he populates this story with lovable characters you can't help but root for. Death scenes are brutal, the killer probably won't be who you expect, and the narrative plays with varying viewpoints that only add to the tension.

I recommend this to fans of slashers and mysteries alike.

Thank you to Tor Nightfire and NetGalley for the review.

Patrick Rothfuss has a knack for creating and filling out a world through character development and discovery. His prose is a delight to read, and his descriptions are lush without being flowery. But if you're seeking a plot-driven fantasy, you've come to the wrong place.

Kvothe is an intriguing and nuanced character. Despite being gifted in sympathy, sygaldry, and music, he fucks up or finds himself in less-than-stellar situations on the regular. But his development and journey is more honest and realistic because of his numerous faults. His only being fifteen in The Name of the Wind certainly helps that believability along. The Wise Man's Fear, however, takes Kvothe's methodical musings and stretches them to the point of tedium. I loved everything about the University, his search for the Chandrian, and the mysteries of the Amyr. Everything else was a slog, especially after his encounter with Felurian.

Despite The Wise Man Fear's shortcomings, I love how magic is a natural part of the world instead of the focus. Though magical elements are there, and add quite a bit to the story, Kvothe's growth as a person is at the forefront of the tale.

For those seeking a long trek through another world, with little care for character arcs or overarching plot threads, The Wise Man's Fear might be just what you're after.

If you adore the macabre and the grisly, you'll find thirteen kindred spirits folded in the pages of Why I Love Horror. If you either dislike or fear the genre, you'll read a baker's dozen's worth of essays that explain the complexities and nuances found in horror. Some horror is cathartic. Some horror is tortuously honest. There are so many subgenres of horror, from the most gruesome (think the Terrifier franchise) to the most literary (Dracula, Frankenstein, and the works of Stephen Graham Jones). Even if you're frightened of the dark, or can't stomach blood, there's horror out there for you.

This collection of essays shines a light into the dark recesses of the mind. Some authors delve into their childhoods, reminiscing about their favorite horror movies and Stephen King novels. Others find solace in psychological terrors, where they can confront their most horrific characteristics, their trauma, and the darkest parts of society. For some, horror is healing. For others, horror provides countless answers to the question, "What if?" For even more, horror provides a safe place to grapple with the terrors that play out in their homes, their communities, their country, and the world.

As a horror fan, this read brought introspection I hadn't realized I wanted. I highly recommend Why I Love Horror to fans of the genre or those who wish to dip their toes into all it offers.

Bradbury's book on craft leans more on the memoir side, much like Stephen King's "On Writing." The difference here is that, while King provides writing tips he generally abides by, Bradbury focuses more on the love and admiration for creation. What he provides in this book is a mindset that pushes the reader to engage their writing as something to melt into rather than fight against. If you're a writer struggling to find joy in the emotional and mental grind of penning a novel or collection of short stories, this is an excellent book to sink your teeth into.

While I ultimately didn't solve the murder (I chose the wrong suspect based on the interview trail I followed), I enjoyed the journey and even hit the second highest score tier: Detective Inspector. All in all, I'm not such a bad detective, I just didn't stumble into all the necessary clues needed to accuse the right person.