Review: The Devil’s End by D.A. Fowler is an Eyeball Explosion at the very end
Trigger warnings: animal abuse and gore mentioned
So, I wish that I had seen the original cover because that would have answered some of my questions. Not all of them, oh heavens no, but a good lot of them. Like, what time period are we in? I asked myself this over and over because it was unabashedly unclear. With references to Dick Tracy, Lana Turner, and MTV – it could be anywhere from the 1930’s to 1990’s (let’s get real, after the 90’s there really wasn’t an MTV anymore). With kids going to the corner store to get a coke and ride around town, it sounds like the 1960’s. But in one instance, it makes fun of the 1950’s, as if it were an era from a hundred years ago. It is both in the past and in the future. It is a paradox!
Oh wait, here’s the original cover:
Okay, great. Late 80’s, early 90’s – got it. Poof, I’m there. And I’m deducing that it was written by an older person because, again, a nine year old boy doesn’t know what the hell a Dick Tracy is in the late 80’s-early 90’s (trust me, no one saw that film and everyone who has has long since blocked it from their memory).
Oh, what, you want to know about the book? Oh, yes, I should review it since I read it. Or rather, listened to it, via Audible. This is the Audible cover:
I have to say, it doesn’t do it any justice at all. Even for a book that I’m about to give two Cthulhus to, it deserves the original cover because it explains the book so much better and is just a beautiful image. It primes you for what the book is truly about and what to expect – white people problems witchcraft.
The Plot:
There are a million characters, I’m going to narrow them down to three: Nancy, Lana, and Spiro.
Lana is the new girl in town, just moved from Texas after her mother’s messy divorce and work relocation. She is beautiful, but down-to-earth, and trying to find new friends while her mother resettles and her younger brother is a straight-up asshole. She is just the girl next door, literally.
Next door lives Spiro, a boy Lana’s age, with developmental and intellectual disabilities. He is shy, awkward, and horrendously bullied at school, regardless of his enormous stature. Growing up fatherless, his mother is cruel and archaic, punishing him for every imagined slight and then often neglecting him. He becomes infatuated with Lana, due to her kindness.
Nancy is a popular girl in the school, brash and unafraid of anything, she goes into the crypt one night of the local cursed family and finds a book. The local legends say that the family were witches and had sacrificed a baby to the devil for powers and immortality, and intrigued, Nancy begins to dabble with the book, to see if the rumors are true.
All three of their lives interweave when mysterious things around town keep happening – could Nancy be the cause of it? Or perhaps the family isn’t as dead as everyone thought?
Thoughts:
Okay, first off, the beginning 3/4ths of this book are pretty uninteresting; it’s mainly setting up “character” where there just isn’t any. As stated, there are so many characters that it’s ridiculous, even the parents of the kids are introduced, and then other characters are introduced half-way in. It’s a mess. Honestly, a lot of it could have been cut down and wouldn’t be missed.
To boot, all of the characters (except for Lana) are awful, insufferable people. It’s hard to listen to them when they are moldy garbage people who are just as interesting as the little bits of toilet paper stuck to the tp roll. Lana is constantly surrounded by young men who want to sexually harass her, her brother who literally wants to ruin her life, and the clique-ish girls at the school. But at the same time, it’s hard to identify with her because we’re constantly reminded how utterly smoking hot she is.
Most of the reviews I’ve read love the first part and hate the second, or never even get to the second. The “second” is the last 1/4th and was infinitely better because it went bawls-to-the-walls insane and gory. Fowler is actually very good at writing gore and, hoo boy, there needed to be 80% more gore and spooky and 120% less talking about nothing and getting Cokes at the burger shop.
The gore is mostly body horror, but there’s plenty of animal murder (which a lot of people found offensive by the comments I read) and…I’m not sure how to put this…gross baby-making-type stuff. You could find it vulgar, I mostly just found it erring on the side of sexist (and yes, I know this was a lady writer). Eyeballs do explode. I found that delightful. I also was entertained when a character’s naughty-bits started “spraying blood all over the living room like an unmanned firehouse”.
There are a few clever ideas that I won’t let spoil the story but, lightly, I think how some of the demons manifest and are different characters would have been more terrific if better explored and savored. I always find demons as characters interesting; unfortunately, these were the typical, standard issue demons, which is almost ironic because there’s a point when someone does a bit with The Exorcist, and then Fowler just kind of copies it later. It would have been great to set up the human characters in the first part, slowly trickle the demons in with their own personalities so that we’re acquainted with them, and then go to the climax of the story with everything mixed.
Honestly, I think this would have worked better as a short story or novella. There was too much fluff to get to where we wanted and needed to be.
Brain Roll Juice:
I’m going to get this out of the way first because it didn’t
sit well and now that I have a timeline I can say, “Don’t give me ‘it was just
different times’ bull-hockey.” It was, indeed, different times. Different,
racist and sexist times. But before those fun times, let’s get to that other
thing stuck in my craw – the treatment of Spiro. And I’m not talking about the
kids in the book.
Spiro has some kind of developmental and/or intellectual disability, brought on from when his mother contracted German measles/Rubella and he, in utero, suffered from encephalitis (inflammation of the brain). He is seventeen, over six feet and two hundred pounds, and physically and mentally abused by his peers, teachers, and mother. He is in the same classes without additional support as his peers. He is punished with detention for “daydreaming”. He is called “’Tardo” and “freak” within earshot of teachers and authority figures. He is often physically abused by his mother.
He also turns into a disgusting creep and is painted in so broad and stereotypical a brush that I found it offensive.
From “gentle giant” stereotype to “creeper of the only nice girl to me” stereotype to “snapping from repression” stereotype to “spoiler spoiler spoiler” stereotype. There isn’t anything clever or sincere about the character and that chips my paint. He is the only diverse character in the whole bunch and he has absolutely nothing of substance to say or do. I was furious because I was excited to see a rare neuro-diverse character in horror as, what I thought, was a lead role (the first chapter starts with him – he introduces the story), or at least a sympathetic role.
And no, that ending doesn’t factor in. Without going into
details, let’s just say that his send off was very similar to the
classic moment in TV history:
The same sentiment can be said with the wildly racist comments that drop out of flipping nowhere, like, “that’s why Japanese people’s eyes are slanted…all the books they read”, “Is an African’s hair kinky?” (used like “does a bear sh– in the woods?”), and “ghetto blaster” as a sobriquet for a boombox. Or the introduction to the only black character at the end of the book that actually calls his peers, “chillun”.
Poor Michael Reaves, the narrator, for having to cough out these lines and make the best out of it. He’s even had to narrate a gastric sleeve cookbook and probably had a better time with that.
But let’s take a look back – this was published in 1992. The year that Dr. Mae Jemison became the first African American woman to travel into space; that the Kentucky Supreme Court held that laws criminalizing same-sex sodomy are unconstitutional (and accurately predicted that other states and the nation would eventually rule the same way); and a TWO full years after Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 was signed into law.
So, what am I saying? I’m saying that you’re right. The times were different and changing. This book has aged and will continue to do so. Even if this is just a pulp horror novel, it’s also a time capsule. I can read this and watch a movie like “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” and see how far our narrative focus has changed. Call it SJW-appeasement or diversity-pandering, but it has changed. It’s no longer just 311 pages filled with average high school melodrama with occasional exploding eyeballs, but showing new facets from new perspectives to keep the same stories we keep telling each other fresh and engaging to more people.
And that leads me to wonder, what would these characters look like now? How would we react to them? How would they change the narrative if they were written today? And do people even know who Dick Tracy is anymore?
Bottom-line:
If you like gore, it’s drudgery to get through the first part. If you like character development, there isn’t much of any. If you like late-80’s to early-90’s nostalgia…I’d still advise against it. It’s not great and aged even worse.
(2 / 5)
Book Reviews
Review: Don’t Eat the Pie, Monique Asher’s delicious trope fest.
“Real monsters are people, and I’ve seen them”
Published in September 2024, Don’t Eat the Pie is a debut novel from author Monique Asher. Reminiscent of Rosemary’s Baby, this story delivers on so many tropes it is doubtful that anyone will not find something to like within its pages. It is not only tropes that Asher has gone to town with. Don’t Eat the Pie is also a mishmash of horror sub-genres that somehow works without being obvious. Southern gothic, supernatural, cult, body horror; it’s all served up here.
The Plot.
Newlyweds Sam and Ben’s idyllic honeymoon is cut short when Ben’s elderly mother, Nadine, suffers a fall. The couple and Sam’s teenage daughter, Emma, relocate to Ben’s childhood home to care for her.
Ben’s mother, lives on the exclusive Camillia Island. A secluded haven of wealth and privilege, accessible only by a creaky drawbridge. Things are smooth at first but both mother and daughter begin to notice some peculiar occurrences: mysterious men in pink shirts, overheard whispers, and a strange aftertaste from a seemingly innocent dessert.
As the days pass, the island’s tranquillity is shattered by increasingly bizarre events. The once-familiar landscape transforms transforms and the true identities of the island’s residents remain shrouded in secrecy. Sam and Emma find themselves entangled in a web of intrigue, questioning their own connection to the island’s dark past. As the stakes rise, Sam and Emma must uncover the truth about Camillia Island and its inhabitants before it’s too late.
Highlights.
The way Asher has built this plot is genius. The abundance of tropes might leave readers assuming predictability. However, red herrings sprinkled throughout the chapters will leave you guessing but never quite certain who is friend and who is foe until the final chapters.
The way that Asher depicts the natural elements on Camillia Island is also worth mentioning as a highlight. Nature plays a big role in this plot and I confidently say that it is a character in its own right. It is not only the ubiquitous snakes and crows encroaching on the inhabited spaces that lend a sinister feeling. The descriptions of the ocean surrounding the island, the vines and flowers that grow around the houses and even the scents permeating the breeze all combine to create a single force that drives the plot to its conclusion.
Drawbacks.
Don’t Eat the Pie is told through the alternating points of view of Samantha and her daughter Emma. This has become a popular way to narrate a story and I understand that it gives the writer a way to reveal information to the reader while still keeping specific characters in the dark. The problem is that if the voices are not distinct enough it can become confusing to differentiate who is telling the story, even if this is specified at the beginning of each chapter. This was the problem I encountered; Sam and Emma are so similar that I spent a lot of time turning back to the chapter headings to check who was telling the story at each point.
The Final Take.
I loved this story.
Don’t Eat the Pie has something for every horror reader. A Southern gothic, supernatural, occult, familicide, body horror… I could go on.
This was so close to the 5 out of 5 rating. It only missed out due to the alternating points of view causing some confusion because they were too similar.
(4.5 / 5)
After her 2017 debut novel, If We Were Villains, captivated readers and skyrocketed to Tik Tok fame readers have been holding their collective breath for anything from M. L. Rio. Seven years later we are presented with Graveyard Shift, another dark academic horror, though a novella this time around. The question is, was it worth the wait and why are readers split in their reactions to this story?
The Plot.
In the opening scene of Graveyard Shift readers encounter five people who often meet in a graveyard on smoke breaks from their various nocturnal jobs.
On the night in question, they discover a freshly dug hole near where they regularly gather. This sounds unremarkable until they realize that no one has been interred in this graveyard for over one hundred years. With the mystery revealed each character returns to their night, each eager to find the purpose of the hole.
Highlights.
Writing a novella that includes the viewpoints of five main characters is a considerable feat. Despite allowing only two chapters for each character in the entire story M. L. Rio successfully juggles these viewpoints without dropping any balls. From the driven editor-in-chief Edie Wu to the enigmatic Tuck. Each character possesses a distinct voice and plays a crucial role in unraveling the mystery. Whether it’s the insomniac ride-share driver Hannah or the bartender at Rocker Box. Each character stands apart, making this novella a compelling read.
Another highlight of this novella is that this is not just another horror novel claiming to be dark academia because it’s set in or near a university. This story is soaked in the academic and the dark side of medical research.
Drawbacks.
The length of this story really went against M. L. Rio, there was so much expectation and hype around its release that when the 100-odd-page story was delivered there were many sighs of disappointment.
And it is not just reader expectation that caused the length to work against her. It must be said that the complexity of the story and the depth that Rio goes to to set up each character would have benefited from being rounded out by another, let’s say 200 pages. The last chapters seem rushed and the ending is ambiguous to say the least, but not in a good way.
I read this on a Kindle and was confused by the story ending at 85%, then slightly angry that the remaining pages were filled by a playlist, an excerpt of If We Were Villains and cocktail recipes??? Although I usually enjoy this type of extra content in fiction, I think Rio’s time might have been better spent writing a few more chapters.
The Final Take.
I approached Graveyard Shift with high expectations, but was ultimately disappointed. While the novel’s form, with its focus on multiple perspectives, initially drew me in, the abrupt and unsatisfying conclusion left me wanting more. Presenting this story as a novella did not do justice to the characters of the story. The mystery of the empty grave was intriguing, and following each character through their nocturnal routines was enjoyable. However, the rushed ending undermined the overall experience.
(2 / 5)
You can’t beat a good old haunted house story. One of the classic tropes of the genre, it allows for some old-school spooks while providing some character development. Now dress it up in a new generation suit and you get something completely different. How does Haven measure up as an addition to the trope? Let’s find out!
Plot
We start the story with a family of four headed on a month-long holiday at a distant relative’s mansion. We have Jeff, the ever-so-average husband, Jenna, the thriller-reading health nut wife. The kids are JJ, the loner gamer son with a passion for swimming, and Jessie, the social media addict with severe insecurities.
I would say that personally, their dynamic was the most interesting and promising part of the novel. It’s clear from the get-go that Jeff and Jenna are trying against all odds to preserve the American Dream. Except right away there is resentment bubbling underneath. Jeff is a pretentious asshole who thinks Jenna’s taste in books is inferior (as a domestic thriller fan I take great offence). Jenna wishes for him to have more career ambition so she can afford the lifestyle she wants. Safe to say there is barely any intimacy between the couple.
When it comes to the kids, both JJ and Jessie feel like an extension of the worst traits of their parents. Jessie’s entire world is social media and her following. For JJ, he is arguably the character with the least development. His main traits are that he hates his family and can’t wait to move out. Oh, and the food.
This is something that I found more discomforting than the horror in the book. Both of the kids have severe food issues, with JJ overeating to the point of obesity while Jessie starves herself and has developed bulimia from the pressure to stay ‘perfect’. The horrifying thing is that neither of the parents notice these things about their kids or if they do, they choose to ignore it.
The haunting in this story is very family-focused. Missing things, Jenna’s harassment, Jeff’s seduction – all these things seem to be specifically catered to break whatever was left of this family unit. Not that it takes much to push them over the edge. This begs the question that whoever is haunting this place is methodical and feeds off their misery.
Gussie’s excerpts break up the pace but personally, I wasn’t as engaged with them as I was with the main story. That being said, I understand its necessity in order to develop the lore.
Writing style
I would say one of my biggest gripes with Haven is not the story itself but rather the way it’s told. The writing style seems like it was trying to adapt to the new times and be tongue-in-cheek. This has varying degrees of success, with some genuinely good nuggets of writing scattered. However, some of it falls flat, especially in the beginning, with the characters doubling down on the points we already knew through the narrative.
Overall thoughts
Haven is a good effort at a haunted house story where there are scarier things than ghosts. It does a good job exploring family dynamics and dealing with negative emotions. The setting is also a strong point of the novel, the house and the forest surrounding it being quite immersive.
As I mentioned, for me the main negative was a bit too try-hard type of writing, although it got better as the book went on. I found the end to be a bit too soft for my liking but it fits with the story. Overall I would still recommend.
(3 / 5)
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