The threat’s intangible, but the imagery in this imposing tale is discernibly moody and uncanny.
In this existential thriller, a college student’s disconcerting history class may force her to face troubling memories.
Partying with friends and fighting with boyfriend Patrick are all that Amanda Greene remembers about last night. Her first day of college, however, is rife with fuzzy recollections. Her dorm roommate is unrecognizable, the greenery outside is replaced with autumn colors, and she’s scheduled for History 101 but is positive she didn’t register for it. History, as it turns out, is a little unsettling. The professor continues a lesson already begun, lecturing, it seems, only to Amanda and not the other students, “all facing front, like robots.” Escape for the increasingly uncomfortable Amanda doesn’t seem feasible: gloved fists are pounding at the door, along with something sporting thick, purplish skin. Answers to what’s going on may be tied to Amanda’s strangely familiar classmate, Nick Fortune. He doesn’t exactly clarify anything, but he acts as a guide: “You have to trust me,” he tells her. “Finish the lecture.” The professor discusses historical figures such as Joan of Arc and Lucrezia Borgia, but scenes from their lives are soon coupled with Amanda’s. She thinks back to years ago, at home with abhorrent stepbrother Wayne, and begins recalling disturbing details from the night before. Plot specifics in the novella are initially scarce, because the big reveal isn’t until the final pages. But the story thrives on atmosphere, with Amanda’s dizzying confusion giving the landscape an otherworldly aura. Some of the tale’s details are straight out of a horror novel, including Amanda’s distinct feeling of being watched and students on campus suddenly disappearing. But the prose is often subtle, slowly building up tension even if readers aren’t sure what’s so terrifying. Cash (Brood X, 2015, etc.) intermingles beauty and violence, like Amanda’s view from her dorm room window: “The leaves withering, curling, setting the branches on fire with vivid oranges, yellows, and reds.” Readers may guess the ending, but that won’t diminish its impact. It’s smartly ambiguous and open to interpretation, and some may delight in a second (or third) read.
The threat’s intangible, but the imagery in this imposing tale is discernibly moody and uncanny.Pub Date: Dec. 17, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-5188-9379-7
Page Count: 130
Publisher: CreateSpace
Review Posted Online: Jan. 14, 2016
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2016
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.
Are we not men? We are—well, ask Bigfoot, as Brooks does in this delightful yarn, following on his bestseller World War Z(2006).
A zombie apocalypse is one thing. A volcanic eruption is quite another, for, as the journalist who does a framing voice-over narration for Brooks’ latest puts it, when Mount Rainier popped its cork, “it was the psychological aspect, the hyperbole-fueled hysteria that had ended up killing the most people.” Maybe, but the sasquatches whom the volcano displaced contributed to the statistics, too, if only out of self-defense. Brooks places the epicenter of the Bigfoot war in a high-tech hideaway populated by the kind of people you might find in a Jurassic Park franchise: the schmo who doesn’t know how to do much of anything but tries anyway, the well-intentioned bleeding heart, the know-it-all intellectual who turns out to know the wrong things, the immigrant with a tough backstory and an instinct for survival. Indeed, the novel does double duty as a survival manual, packed full of good advice—for instance, try not to get wounded, for “injury turns you from a giver to a taker. Taking up our resources, our time to care for you.” Brooks presents a case for making room for Bigfoot in the world while peppering his narrative with timely social criticism about bad behavior on the human side of the conflict: The explosion of Rainier might have been better forecast had the president not slashed the budget of the U.S. Geological Survey, leading to “immediate suspension of the National Volcano Early Warning System,” and there’s always someone around looking to monetize the natural disaster and the sasquatch-y onslaught that follows. Brooks is a pro at building suspense even if it plays out in some rather spectacularly yucky episodes, one involving a short spear that takes its name from “the sucking sound of pulling it out of the dead man’s heart and lungs.” Grossness aside, it puts you right there on the scene.
A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.Pub Date: June 16, 2020
ISBN: 978-1-9848-2678-7
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Del Rey/Ballantine
Review Posted Online: Feb. 9, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK TO SCREEN
Dark and unsettling, this novel’s end arrives abruptly even as readers are still moving at a breakneck speed.
Ten years after her teenage daughter went missing, a mother begins a new relationship only to discover she can't truly move on until she answers lingering questions about the past.
Laurel Mack’s life stopped in many ways the day her 15-year-old daughter, Ellie, left the house to study at the library and never returned. She drifted away from her other two children, Hanna and Jake, and eventually she and her husband, Paul, divorced. Ten years later, Ellie’s remains and her backpack are found, though the police are unable to determine the reasons for her disappearance and death. After Ellie’s funeral, Laurel begins a relationship with Floyd, a man she meets in a cafe. She's disarmed by Floyd’s charm, but when she meets his young daughter, Poppy, Laurel is startled by her resemblance to Ellie. As the novel progresses, Laurel becomes increasingly determined to learn what happened to Ellie, especially after discovering an odd connection between Poppy’s mother and her daughter even as her relationship with Floyd is becoming more serious. Jewell’s (I Found You, 2017, etc.) latest thriller moves at a brisk pace even as she plays with narrative structure: The book is split into three sections, including a first one which alternates chapters between the time of Ellie’s disappearance and the present and a second section that begins as Laurel and Floyd meet. Both of these sections primarily focus on Laurel. In the third section, Jewell alternates narrators and moments in time: The narrator switches to alternating first-person points of view (told by Poppy’s mother and Floyd) interspersed with third-person narration of Ellie’s experiences and Laurel’s discoveries in the present. All of these devices serve to build palpable tension, but the structure also contributes to how deeply disturbing the story becomes. At times, the characters and the emotional core of the events are almost obscured by such quick maneuvering through the weighty plot.
Dark and unsettling, this novel’s end arrives abruptly even as readers are still moving at a breakneck speed.Pub Date: April 24, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5011-5464-5
Page Count: 368
Publisher: Atria
Review Posted Online: Feb. 5, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2018
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