The best thing about this book is that the description of Jake’s appearance gave me an excuse to imagine Matthew Gray Gubler for the entire reading experience.

Pros: some creepy, David Lynch-ian scenes toward the middle.

Cons: wooden prose and an easily-guessed twist.

This is a nasty little story with the least reliable of narrators: a woman who becomes possessed by a demon and loses control of her own mind. Gran excels at managing tension, sliding the reader seamlessly from comfort to unease as the unsettling episodes ramp up into horror and the protagonist’s life unravels faster and faster. It’s rare that I either enjoy dream sequences or actually feel scared when reading a horror novel, and with Come Closer, I did both. If I were a filmmaker, I would want to adapt this.

I read this play because my husband is taking an introductory theater class that uses it as a text, and he recommended that I read it, as well, so we could have a little book club of sorts. It reminds me somewhat of Toni Morrison's Beloved in its use of the ghost motif to examine black history and the shadow of the past on the characters' lives. Each has his or her methods of coping with the hardships they face, from incarceration to lack of power over one's economic life to the deaths of loved ones, and different ideas about how to move forward and improve their situation. I've never seen this staged, but I would like to, because the dialogue sings--sometimes literally--and the action builds up to a tense crescendo of overlapping voices.

I expected this to be a much lighter read than it turned out to be. It’s engaging and well-written, but at times I found it difficult to read because, while Eleanor and I had vastly different childhoods, much of her daily life reminded me uncomfortably of mine before my autism diagnosis and the therapy that has helped me to cope with my anxiety. I didn’t find many of the situations in the book to be funny, because I’ve been the person excluded at work, struggling to understand why people act the way they do, going long stretches of time without talking to anyone, forming obsessive parasocial attachments, etc. For these reasons, I felt much more empathy for Eleanor than some other readers, and was invested in her story’s outcome even if I cringed my way to the final pages. I know what I hope happens when the book ends, but/and I wouldn’t mind a sequel.

My first Brian Keene. I had this on my shelf for a couple of years, before listening to Keene on the Ladies of the Fright podcast ignited my interest in reading it. I really admire his ability to succeed without an agent and his businesslike perspective on writing. What I found in Dark Hollow is an old-fashioned horror tale in the tradition of M. R. James or Arthur Machen updated to a modern setting, in which the residents of a small Pennsylvania town lock horns with a satyr. It sounds silly and over-the-top, and it kind of is, but horror sits side-by-Side with comedy always, and Keene grounds the story with the characters’ more mundane concerns about family and relationships. A bit more macho than my usual fare, but this book was really enjoyable and crafted as solidly as a good piece of furniture. Will read more.

Sweet, quaint, and emotional, Midnight at the Blackbird Café is the epitome of a gentle read. I would not have minded a bit more magic, but what is there is interesting and perfectly suited to the Southern small-town setting.

Not quite my thing, but I'm getting married soon, and my mom wanted me to read this before I did so.

A book that I bought a decade ago, never got around to, gave away, and suddenly decided that I must read and checked out from the library. I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did, but it’s got that Practical Magic vibe and quirky Southern setting that, when done correctly, make for a joyful reading experience. Fun characters, a mix of lighthearted and heavy moments, and a hefty sprinkling of magical realism. I’m glad that I checked out the sequel, too, because I’m already 100 pages in.