What an interesting case Malorie is. Bird Box has been one of my favorite books, and while the ending didn't shut the door on a sequel, it didn't come off as a necessity either. Listening to Malerman speak about the genesis of this book, the reader is assured that this isn't a cash grab, it's not an easy way to write a book that will sell. Malerman's not exactly running short on ideas. No, this book was written because of Malerman's sincere love of this character.

So how does one write a sequel to one of the most tension-filled original books in the horror scene? Like this, I guess. Malorie plays familiar notes, assuring us that the author has painstakingly recrafted the same world from the previous book, but a decade later. We're presented with the way the world has changed, the perception of the creatures has changed, and the way humanity reacts to them has changed. This is the running line for the story, and what helps it feel fresh.

I've mentioned the tension that Malerman wrote into the first book, and while Malorie doesn't quite grab those levels, it's more from a sense of not trying to play that hit twice than swinging and missing. The reader commiserates a bit more this time with Malorie's sense of self preservation, as well as her attempts to keep her children safe. The lore in this world is expanded upon, and Malerman once again leaves the door open to more stories written in this world.

Malorie didn't resonate with me quite as much as Bird Box did, but that's okay. I'd rather read a story set in this world that goes to new places and tries new things, rather than something that tries to rehash the lightning captured in a bottle before. Malorie does this nicely.