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howlinglibraries's Reviews (1.85k)
First of all: damn, what a shocking ride from start to finish!
The Black Farm is pitched as this absolutely terrifying, disgusting, miserable story, and even its most base-level plot is heartbreaking: a couple, mourning the loss of their child, decides to kill themselves together, only to wake up in a place “worse than Hell”: The Black Farm. They go on to suffer endless punishments for their actions, with this terrible “farm” going so far as to, when the victims die on the farm, regurgitate them back into it so they can be tortured all over again.
Oh, and trust me when I say that I don’t mean “torture” lightly at all. I’ve never read such gratuitous depictions of misery and turmoil as what’s in this story. It’s absolutely not for the faint of heart (or stomach), as there are some scenes that are simply disgusting, while others nearly made me cry for how miserable they were (especially the graphic rape scenes). On top of it all, Nick’s terror and rage are practically tangible, and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, hoping he’d find a way to escape with his love before they were both completely broken by the agony and terror of this awful place.
All of that aside, what sold this book most solidly for me was the world-building. The Black Farm is, frankly, one of the coolest, most terrifying settings I’ve ever seen in any horror media—book, film, game, whatever—and I am desperate to know more about it. It’s sick, it’s twisted, it’s full of these absolutely awful “people” and creatures, and while this might make me sound a little disturbed to some of my friends and followers, I couldn’t get enough of the lore behind this afterlife.
The only reason I’m not giving this a full five stars is that I think the narrative voice could use a little refining; there were a few moments where I was taken out of the scene by odd phrases or structures in the narrative, but they were few and far between enough that I feel more than content to give this 4.5 stars!
The Black Farm is pitched as this absolutely terrifying, disgusting, miserable story, and even its most base-level plot is heartbreaking: a couple, mourning the loss of their child, decides to kill themselves together, only to wake up in a place “worse than Hell”: The Black Farm. They go on to suffer endless punishments for their actions, with this terrible “farm” going so far as to, when the victims die on the farm, regurgitate them back into it so they can be tortured all over again.
Oh, and trust me when I say that I don’t mean “torture” lightly at all. I’ve never read such gratuitous depictions of misery and turmoil as what’s in this story. It’s absolutely not for the faint of heart (or stomach), as there are some scenes that are simply disgusting, while others nearly made me cry for how miserable they were (especially the graphic rape scenes). On top of it all, Nick’s terror and rage are practically tangible, and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, hoping he’d find a way to escape with his love before they were both completely broken by the agony and terror of this awful place.
All of that aside, what sold this book most solidly for me was the world-building. The Black Farm is, frankly, one of the coolest, most terrifying settings I’ve ever seen in any horror media—book, film, game, whatever—and I am desperate to know more about it. It’s sick, it’s twisted, it’s full of these absolutely awful “people” and creatures, and while this might make me sound a little disturbed to some of my friends and followers, I couldn’t get enough of the lore behind this afterlife.
The only reason I’m not giving this a full five stars is that I think the narrative voice could use a little refining; there were a few moments where I was taken out of the scene by odd phrases or structures in the narrative, but they were few and far between enough that I feel more than content to give this 4.5 stars!
My taste in horror is pretty varied—I like slow-creeping horror, gothic horror, psychological horror, horror comedy, gothic romance… but sometimes, I’m just in the mood for some solid gore, terror, and a little camp. When I’m in that mood, I usually can only find exactly what I’m looking for in films, but Kill Hill Carnage is the perfect example of how it’s done in book format.
If I had to pick a subgenre for Kill Hill Carnage, I’d place it right in the middle of splatterpunk and creature feature, personally—but more than anything, it felt like an homage to the deliciously bizarre horror flicks of the late 80s and early 90s, which made it an immediate home run for me. It literally opens on a classic scene of two camp counselors being ripped to shreds mid-sex, and if that doesn’t give you major nostalgia, I don’t know what will.
I was endlessly entertained and could hardly stand to put this book down. It flies by, never lags for a moment, and I especially loved the moments when we were transported 25 years in the past, seeing all of this destruction befall Kill Hill for the first time. Tim Meyer’s got one hell of an imagination for death scenes, and the creatures he describes range from mildly terrifying to downright disgusting.
On top of it all, Tim’s writing is a treat all on its own. It’s fun and self-aware in all the right places, and it’s immersive enough that I felt like I was right there in the woods alongside these characters. Speaking of the characters, almost all of them are at least a little bit unlikable in that quintessential horror film style—you know the one, where you don’t get too attached to anyone but the final kid, so you don’t mind too much when you watch them all being slaughtered—but they’re fun to read about, and they’re fleshed out just enough.
If you’re looking for a good horror read with loads of gore, creepy monsters, and a touch of nostalgia, I absolutely recommend grabbing yourself a copy of Kill Hill Carnage. And remember… stay away from the river!
Content warnings for graphic violence, gore, murder, suicidal ideation, self-harm, body horror, racism, ableism, fat-shaming, discussions of sexual assault
Thank you so much to the publicist and Sinister Grin Press for providing me with a review copy in exchange for an honest review!
You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!
It was here for mayhem and murder, and it would get what it wanted in large doses, oh yes it bloody would.
If I had to pick a subgenre for Kill Hill Carnage, I’d place it right in the middle of splatterpunk and creature feature, personally—but more than anything, it felt like an homage to the deliciously bizarre horror flicks of the late 80s and early 90s, which made it an immediate home run for me. It literally opens on a classic scene of two camp counselors being ripped to shreds mid-sex, and if that doesn’t give you major nostalgia, I don’t know what will.
I was endlessly entertained and could hardly stand to put this book down. It flies by, never lags for a moment, and I especially loved the moments when we were transported 25 years in the past, seeing all of this destruction befall Kill Hill for the first time. Tim Meyer’s got one hell of an imagination for death scenes, and the creatures he describes range from mildly terrifying to downright disgusting.
“Would you knock it off with that horror movie shit? No one wants to hear it right now!”
On top of it all, Tim’s writing is a treat all on its own. It’s fun and self-aware in all the right places, and it’s immersive enough that I felt like I was right there in the woods alongside these characters. Speaking of the characters, almost all of them are at least a little bit unlikable in that quintessential horror film style—you know the one, where you don’t get too attached to anyone but the final kid, so you don’t mind too much when you watch them all being slaughtered—but they’re fun to read about, and they’re fleshed out just enough.
If you’re looking for a good horror read with loads of gore, creepy monsters, and a touch of nostalgia, I absolutely recommend grabbing yourself a copy of Kill Hill Carnage. And remember… stay away from the river!
Content warnings for graphic violence, gore, murder, suicidal ideation, self-harm, body horror, racism, ableism, fat-shaming, discussions of sexual assault
Thank you so much to the publicist and Sinister Grin Press for providing me with a review copy in exchange for an honest review!
You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!
I’d been meaning to read something by Grady Hendrix for ages, so I jumped at the chance to review We Sold Our Souls. I’d heard so many of my friends rave about his writing in general, but as a metalhead, I was especially sold on the idea of an entire horror story revolving around this washed-up former metal star and her old bandmate’s essential deal with the devil to gain his fame.
First, let’s talk about Kris Pulaski, our former guitarist protagonist who’s in her forties now, working the night shift at a hotel, miserable, empty, and alone. And let’s talk about how much I freaking love her. Kris is an absolute badass, full of flames and rage and a need for vengeance and justice; she’s tough, a total fighter, and frankly, she’s sick and tired of being held down by the men in her life. She’s incredibly aware of how warped the metal community’s treatment of women can be, much less how society at large treats powerful and self-confident women, but she refuses to let anyone get in her way for even a second. She’s constantly plotting her next move, and she’s just brilliant. If Kris Pulaski were a real person, I’d want to be her best friend.
Kris isn’t the only enjoyable character, though—even some of the bad guys are pretty likable in their own way, and everyone, good or bad, feels flawed and authentic. I loved cycling through Kris’ former bandmates as she met up with each one, and learning about her memories of them, especially when she would couple in band-specific relations (things like, “like every guitar duo in metal, they were a little bit in love and a little bit in hate all at the same time”). It’s also incredibly fascinating to watch Kris piece together her broken memories as the story slowly reveals what drove apart the members of Dürt Würk, and why Kris has been an outsider ever since.
While We Sold Our Souls absolutely has horror elements and a wonderful plot that kept me engaged from start to finish, what I loved most about it was the fact that, at its core, it reads like a love song to metalheads and music lovers everywhere. So much of what happens revolves around the music scene, the power of metal (and the darker sides of the community, too), and the ways that music can teach us and guide us to the light. There are loads of pop culture references (don’t be offended if a few of your faves get insulted—it happened to me twice, and all I could do was laugh), feminist undertones for days, and a few incredibly creepy (and/or disgusting) mental images that have followed me in the days since finishing this story.
Altogether, I adored every single page of this book, and see it as the kind of story I would happily read over and over again in the future. If you enjoy horror with a touch of weirdness to it, and especially if you’re a fellow metalhead, I can’t urge you strongly enough to pick up a copy of We Sold Our Souls right away. There’s not a single negative thing I have to say about it, and I can’t wait to read everything else Grady Hendrix has to offer.
Thank you so much to Quirk Books for providing me with a stunning finished copy in exchange for an honest review!
She had nothing. Except her music.
First, let’s talk about Kris Pulaski, our former guitarist protagonist who’s in her forties now, working the night shift at a hotel, miserable, empty, and alone. And let’s talk about how much I freaking love her. Kris is an absolute badass, full of flames and rage and a need for vengeance and justice; she’s tough, a total fighter, and frankly, she’s sick and tired of being held down by the men in her life. She’s incredibly aware of how warped the metal community’s treatment of women can be, much less how society at large treats powerful and self-confident women, but she refuses to let anyone get in her way for even a second. She’s constantly plotting her next move, and she’s just brilliant. If Kris Pulaski were a real person, I’d want to be her best friend.
Kris had been alive long enough to know it was dangerous when men accused you of being better than them.
Kris isn’t the only enjoyable character, though—even some of the bad guys are pretty likable in their own way, and everyone, good or bad, feels flawed and authentic. I loved cycling through Kris’ former bandmates as she met up with each one, and learning about her memories of them, especially when she would couple in band-specific relations (things like, “like every guitar duo in metal, they were a little bit in love and a little bit in hate all at the same time”). It’s also incredibly fascinating to watch Kris piece together her broken memories as the story slowly reveals what drove apart the members of Dürt Würk, and why Kris has been an outsider ever since.
She played for the losers.
While We Sold Our Souls absolutely has horror elements and a wonderful plot that kept me engaged from start to finish, what I loved most about it was the fact that, at its core, it reads like a love song to metalheads and music lovers everywhere. So much of what happens revolves around the music scene, the power of metal (and the darker sides of the community, too), and the ways that music can teach us and guide us to the light. There are loads of pop culture references (don’t be offended if a few of your faves get insulted—it happened to me twice, and all I could do was laugh), feminist undertones for days, and a few incredibly creepy (and/or disgusting) mental images that have followed me in the days since finishing this story.
Altogether, I adored every single page of this book, and see it as the kind of story I would happily read over and over again in the future. If you enjoy horror with a touch of weirdness to it, and especially if you’re a fellow metalhead, I can’t urge you strongly enough to pick up a copy of We Sold Our Souls right away. There’s not a single negative thing I have to say about it, and I can’t wait to read everything else Grady Hendrix has to offer.
Thank you so much to Quirk Books for providing me with a stunning finished copy in exchange for an honest review!
I love a good classic horror tale, and when it comes to ones like The Haunting of Hill House, they are especially fascinating because you can see so much of modern horror reflected back in elements of these stories. Shirley Jackson is considered by many to be the original queen of horror and, if not the creator, at the very least the author most responsible for making the haunted house trope popular. Given that it’s my favorite horror trope, you can imagine the excitement and apprehension I felt over finally picking this book up.
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality.
First and foremost, Shirley Jackson’s writing was positively incredible. I love horror writing that doesn’t always make sense, that leaves much to the imagination and constantly has you wondering what really just happened, and that sums up The Haunting of Hill House in a nutshell. The writing is poetic, strange, self-contradicting, and absolutely the perfect narrative voice for the tragic atmosphere of Hill House—and poor Eleanor’s gradual descent into madness.
I am like a small creature swallowed whole by a monster, she thought, and the monster feels my tiny little movements inside.
The events themselves are far spread, but genuinely dreadful, leaving a catch-22 of sorts: on the one hand, the pacing at times feels extremely slow, but on the other, Hill House constantly lures the reader into a false sense of security before lashing out with another fright. With classics, many readers don’t expect to be truly terrified—we modern horror fans often fall prey to the trap of thinking that we have grown numb to the fears of decades gone by—but I don’t mind admitting that The Haunting of Hill House kept me on the edge of my seat at times, jumping at every unusual noise in my dark home while I read.
“Whose hands was I holding?”
The characters in the story serve a catch-22 of their own: they’re so incredibly unlikeable that it’s hard to root for them, yet their casual cruelty only endeared me further to Eleanor, while still leaving me to wonder, how much of what she perceived as rudeness was only standard human socializing, filtered through the dark lens of the slow twisting of her mind the house created? The only character beyond Eleanor who I ever found myself fond of was Theodora, though I could never make sense of her—one moment, she seemed vicious and catty, while the next, it was painfully clear that she had less than platonic feelings for Eleanor. (On that note, as is the case with so many classics, there is a tremendously obvious underlying theme of subtle queerness here, and I won’t deny how much it made me wish for a more accepting retelling in modern times.)
Silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.
So, I’ll end on this note—whether you’re a fan of modern or classic horror, ghost stories or gothic subtlety, I absolutely recommend picking up a copy of The Haunting of Hill House. (If you’re looking for a specific edition, I happily recommend Guillermo del Toro’s re-release, which comes with an introduction from the infamous director, and offers a perfectly fitting aesthetic.)
You can find this review and more on my blog, or you can follow me on twitter, bookstagram, or facebook!
Hmm... I have very mixed feelings about this. RTC
Whew. DAMN. This collection was... SO GOOD?! I love Cole McCade's writing so much and absolutely consider him one of my favorite romance authors (or favorite authors in general), but I had NO CLUE his horror work was just as flawless. This was legitimately so unsettling and creepy and I think I may have actual bona fide nightmares about one of the scenes in one of these stories.
First, let's talk about the concept of queer horror to begin with — as a queer person who adores horror, I've always been a little disheartened by how rare it is to find horror stories centering people who look like me, so reading this collection and finding that each and every primary character was queer? *chef kiss* AMAZING. We have sapphic characters, gay characters, and a delightful ace couple in our final story.
That said, as is mentioned in the author's note in the beginning of the book, this is horror. These are not happy stories with guarantees of sunny endings, and if you're not comfortable reading depictions of queer folks going Through It™, be aware of that before heading into this one. I personally am a strong believer, much like Xen, that queer authors deserve the right to showcase all queer experiences — not just happy ones — so I was personally really pleased with the gritty nature of these stories and the way they never held back.
Every time I pick up a new story from this author, I'm consistently blown away by how beautiful his writing is and how instantaneously I become attached to his characters (especially the beautiful elderly couple in 'Flicker', the final story). I think this is an incredible collection and I know I'll be recommending it for a long, long time to come.
✨ Representation: 'Inverse' features a Salvadoran gay man & his gay husband; 'Insurrection' features a butch bi woman; 'Mouth' features a Black gay MC & his Japanese queer husband; 'Flicker' features an asexual couple, both described with brown skin.
✨ Content warnings for:
First, let's talk about the concept of queer horror to begin with — as a queer person who adores horror, I've always been a little disheartened by how rare it is to find horror stories centering people who look like me, so reading this collection and finding that each and every primary character was queer? *chef kiss* AMAZING. We have sapphic characters, gay characters, and a delightful ace couple in our final story.
That said, as is mentioned in the author's note in the beginning of the book, this is horror. These are not happy stories with guarantees of sunny endings, and if you're not comfortable reading depictions of queer folks going Through It™, be aware of that before heading into this one. I personally am a strong believer, much like Xen, that queer authors deserve the right to showcase all queer experiences — not just happy ones — so I was personally really pleased with the gritty nature of these stories and the way they never held back.
Every time I pick up a new story from this author, I'm consistently blown away by how beautiful his writing is and how instantaneously I become attached to his characters (especially the beautiful elderly couple in 'Flicker', the final story). I think this is an incredible collection and I know I'll be recommending it for a long, long time to come.
✨ Representation: 'Inverse' features a Salvadoran gay man & his gay husband; 'Insurrection' features a butch bi woman; 'Mouth' features a Black gay MC & his Japanese queer husband; 'Flicker' features an asexual couple, both described with brown skin.
✨ Content warnings for:
Spoiler
racism, xenophobia, homophobia, slur usage, memories of an abusive parent, attempted murder by said parent, body horror, alcoholism, animal death, a dying spouse
I love Nikita Gill's poetry so much, and this was my favorite collection yet. Despite the incredibly emotional experience of reading this poetry collection about the pandemic while it is still ongoing, Nikita's optimism and hopefulness were a balm for my soul. I feel that we sometimes manage to have the inexplicable luck of picking up a book at exactly the right time, and that was me, reading this poetry collection tonight. I don't know if you'll ever see this review, Nikita, but if you do: thank you.
Thank you so much to the publisher for providing me with this review copy in exchange for an honest review!
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Thank you so much to the publisher for providing me with this review copy in exchange for an honest review!
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twitter | booktok | bookstagram | blog
Damn, I love SGJ's writing so much. This was fantastic. And you can read it for free right here on Tor.com!
Sadly, this wasn't for me. I think maybe this author's work in general isn't for me. He has so many books that have these incredible-sounding plots, and the writing itself is fine, but I had a really hard time with the characters in this as well as the other book I've read of his! I do have one more book of Iain's on my TBR that I'd like to read, so maybe one more try?
3.5 stars!
This was my first Matt Shaw story, but won't be my last. While it wasn't a perfect read for me — I struggled a little with the repetitive nature at times, mostly — I thought the premise was pretty intriguing and I enjoyed the ending a lot. There isn't much you can say about this story without spoiling it, except that you should go into it with a pretty strong stomach. I know this is labeled as extreme horror, and I can see why, but the incest/sex scenes were way more fucked up than the gore/violence was to me, and I kept wishing for less of the former and more of the latter. You read that right: can I get a little more cannibalism with my story, please? Ah, well.
This was my first Matt Shaw story, but won't be my last. While it wasn't a perfect read for me — I struggled a little with the repetitive nature at times, mostly — I thought the premise was pretty intriguing and I enjoyed the ending a lot. There isn't much you can say about this story without spoiling it, except that you should go into it with a pretty strong stomach. I know this is labeled as extreme horror, and I can see why, but the incest/sex scenes were way more fucked up than the gore/violence was to me, and I kept wishing for less of the former and more of the latter. You read that right: can I get a little more cannibalism with my story, please? Ah, well.