Wow this book was something. It wasn’t what I was expecting but it was definitely an experience and I’m glad I read it.

To start, I have a complicated relationship with Paul Tremblay’s books (ditto Grady Hendrix’s work, these two authors are in a remarkably similar wheelhouse really, has anyone ever seen them in the same place at the same time??). I LOVED Head Full of Ghosts and was beyond creeped out and entertained by it. But nothing he’s written since has been as good as that first title I read of his. Survivors Song was a little meh if I’m honest and Growing Things I couldn’t really get in to despite loving short story collections. Admittedly those are the only books of his I have read / tried to read so maybe I should give the others a chance.

This book, in its best parts, felt as good as Head Full of Ghosts. Tremblay writes excellent characters and expresses the supernatural (if there is anything supernatural, it’s largely up to you to decide) beautifully and believably because it is seemingly so grounded in reality. This book delivered massively in terms of readability, atmosphere, and several truly scary passages. The pacing was a bit hit or miss at times and overall I wish there had been more interactions between Art and Mercy (where the writing really shines) and less descriptions of his (Art’s) ill-fated musical career. However, the format of the book added a lot to the story and was wonderfully executed. The author also had some remarkably poignant things to say about grief, loss, and the fundamental nature of memoirs (novels).