3.5 stars
Time goes by so fast, but the Dark Tower won't go anywhere. It's fun to remember these past legs and refresh my memory. It could be worse: I could be waiting for six years for another book, but instead it's just me who keeps putting things off.

I read this installment a year ago in May, and it was so great to continue with a story that actually progressed the plot. Wizard and Glass put everything in standstill, but Wolves at least tries to put gears in motion. The story is interesting, the lore is expanded a bit, the characters are developing, and different genres and tropes are mixed freely without it being a mess. I also love the inclusion of a character from Salem's Lot, one of my absolute favorites from King. You'll get to hear what happened after the events in that book, but there's also a nice connection to the DT.

The Dark Tower Project
"Night Surf" from Night Shift (1978)
The Stand: Complete and Uncut Edition (1990)
The Eyes of the Dragon (1987)
The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger (2003 Revised Edition)
The Dark Tower II: The Drawing of the Three (1987)
The Dark Tower III: The Waste Lands (1991)
The Dark Tower IV: Wizard and Glass (1997)
"Little Sisters of Eluria" from Everything's Eventual (2002)
"Jerusalem's Lot" from Night Shift (1978)
Salem's Lot (1975)
"One for the Road" from Night Shift (1978)
The Dark Tower: The Wind Through the Keyhole (2012)
The Dark Tower V: Wolves of the Calla (2003)
The Dark Tower VI: Song of Susannah (2004)
Insomnia (1994)
Black House (2001) (sequel to The Talisman)
"Low Men in Yellow Coats" from Hearts in Atlantis (1999)
"Everything's Eventual" from Everything's Eventual (2002)
The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower (2004)

"Fear wasn't a jagged split of light cleaving you; fear wasn't a cold fist in your entrails; fear wasn't something you could face and demolish with your arrogance. Fear was the fog, creeping about you, seeping into your pores and flesh and bone. Fear was a girl whispering a word over and again, a small word you refused to hear although the whisper was a scream in your ears, a dreadful scream you could never forget."

Hughes more than deserves a seat at the boys' table with Raymond Chandler and others. This particular story resembles Jim Thompson's The Killer Inside Me (1952) in the sense that the point of view is of a sociopathic mind. Although it isn't as visceral or brutal, Hughes portrays Dix Steele and his slow spiral into his personal hell powerfully. He's a freeloader with no sense of direction in his life, and in his view, all women are "cheats, liars, whores". Befriending an old war buddy is self-destructive, but he's too self-absorbed to realize it.

Without giving anything away, the misogynistic aspect has a different dynamic than in other noirs and is ultimately subverted. I don't know how aware Hughes was of this, but it feels like she wanted to do things differently than her colleagues.

The movie adaptation has very little to do with the novel, but it matches the cold essence of the book. It's a bitter romance where the characters feed each other's weaknesses which results in paranoia, jealousy, violence, and hopelessness. Humphrey Bogart's performance is one of his best, and the bleak dreamy shadows accentuate the most harrowing scenes by placing focus on his face. The ending is just *chef's kiss*.

Happy happy October! I have a busy month ahead, but I'm hoping it will be even more horror-heavy than the rest of the year. Let's start with the always great Shirley:

"Then the stairs, step by step, and all this while the mannikins inside run screaming from each section of the house to a higher and a more concealed room, --- and I shall eat the room in one mouthful, chewing ruthlessly on the boards and the small sweet bones."

3.5 stars
Hangsaman is, in a way, familiar: the atmosphere is impeccable, you never know what you'll bump into around the corner, and there's some subtly weird things that make you slightly uncomfortable.

But, because the protagonist (Natalie, a college freshman) is such an odd introspective girl who has an unpredictable thought process, and because the story is so cryptic, it would definitely scare off people who are new to Jackson.

I still don't know what the hell was going on half the time, but I still liked it. It's just one of those things that is difficult to explain. According to latest research, the novel wasn't inspired by Paula Jean Welden's disappearance after all, but the 2020 movie Shirley still references it and is set during the time period when Jackson was writing Hangsaman. I'm thinking it could be the perfect choice for this weather.

The idea last year (2020) was that I would watch all the related movies before posting the review, but I completely forgot the whole thing. I want to make sure I talk about this during October, so here you go.

There's something about James's writing that makes my head spin, but not in a good way. It's frustrating that a book this short requires so much effort, and when you're drowning in commas you don't really care if the dizzying style is purposeful or not.

Another frustrating thing is that I actually like the story when you peel it to its bare bones and wade through all the padding. There are genuinely creepy moments, a pretty unsettling aspect about a certain relationship (that you wish isn't what seems to be implied), and a fantastic ambiguity about the ghosts haunting the house and the governess.

If you want atmosphere, I suggest watching The Innocents (1961). I get goosebumps just thinking about it. It's everything James wished he could have achieved and has an incredible ending. Turn off all the lights, maybe light a candle, and enjoy!

When I think about 70s horror, I think about The Exorcist or something bizarre like The Sentinel. Someone compared Samson to Shirley Jackson, and there's definitely similar quiet menace, although it's otherwise a more straightforward drama-heavy horror for people who don't like the bloodier stories.

A charismatic auctioneer arrives in Harlowe, an isolated New Hampshire farming community, and every week the people donate something to his auction. Slowly the requests become more forceful and gently threatening, and more and more men become his deputies doing his dirty work.

What happens when progress becomes intimidating and sinister? Or when the rich benefit from the poor without giving a thought what the sacrifices are doing to them? When a piece of land has been with a family for generations and both your possessions and your confidence are slowly drained, a decision needs to be made. Will you surrender or will you stand up? The ending is haunting, because it doesn't really solve anything. You're just left on the precipice to fend for yourself.

Our stormy and bleak weather made me want to dive under a fuzzy blanket and into a nostalgia cloud. Ninni is a witch who feels insignificant, insecure, and untalented. Other witches make fun at her, but then she gets an opportunity for an adventure. In the end, what does it really mean to be the best witch of them all?

My late grandmother had this book. I read it so many times I've lost count and bought my own copy years later. I love having old favorites in my shelf, because it feels comforting to know that they're there, always waiting for you no matter how much time goes by. So, this isn't really a review. It's more like a celebration of an old friend. Not a perfect old friend, but one that always welcomes me with open arms into a forest of ferns, rainbows, and cats.

Wow, I had completely forgotten this series hadn't ended. Now it has, and although I still liked the first volume the best, the final volume is a nice ending to the story. The perfect comic for rainy fall weather.

One of Jackson's lesser known works about a topic that is very familiar to many, but she still manages to make it compelling. She leaves a lot of details out (such as the full extent of Giles Corey's bravery), but the concise approach is understandable, because this is actually meant for younger readers.

No matter how many times I read about Salem, it always baffles me how easily fear and beliefs won over common sense, when a group of girls decided there were witches in their community. Not only did the accusations target mostly those who were considered different, non-conformist, or enemies of certain families, the "evidence" considered at the trials was on shaky ground as well (e.g. spectral evidence).

In the end, although there were contemporary critics, more than 200 people were accused, 30 were found guilty, and 19 were hanged. When the tide turned, so much of the damage was permanent. People had died, and the community had been so wrapped up with the devil's business that they had neglected farmwork and upkeep: "-- food became scarce and taxes higher. Farms were mortgaged or sold, first to pay prison fees, then to pay taxes; frequently they were abandoned."

The girls retired from public life and one of them said she never meant any harm, some of the wrongly accused received monetary compensation, twelve jurors asked for forgiveness in a public document, and Judge Sewall regretted his involvement.

John Hathorne thought for the rest of his life that the accused were witches and that his actions had been honorable.

Uh, looks like I missed non-fiction November and haven't opened a book in weeks. Oh well, my holiday dates are now locked, and I'm motivated to read again!

Here's one that I read last Christmas time and which is pretty much made for the season. Maud is left living with his tyrannical father, Edmund, in an isolated manor house, and when Edmund finds a painting, it seems to slowly drive him mad.

Echoes of a bit of M. R. James and a bit of gothic, and creepy but in a subtle way. I enjoyed Paver's traditional ghost story Dark Matter, but Wakenhyrst is more thought-provoking and mysterious than scary. They're different, but both are page-turners and good in their own way.