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)
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)
Book Reviews
Tiny Threads.
A supernatural horror where the ghosts, surprisingly, aren’t the most terrifying aspect.
A chilling blend of The Devil Wears Prada and classic ghost story. Tiny Threads by Lilliam Rivera is a gripping exploration of the fashion industry’s dark underbelly. Published in September 2024, this contemporary Latina horror novel delves into themes of gender, hierarchy, gentrification, and human trafficking. All while keeping readers on the edge of their seats with its supernatural elements.
The Plot.
When Samara, a young Cuban American woman, lands her dream job working as the Executive Director, Global Brand Voice for renowned fashion designer Antonio Mota, she cannot move away from Jersey and her close-knit, although sometimes suffocating, family fast enough. Arriving in Vernon, California, Samara hopes this could be a new start. She finds the people nice enough and her new apartment is to die for. She has even met a new love interest, a wealthy investor of Mota’s fashion line.
If only she were not woken at 2am every morning by the mice living in the walls of her apartment. She also wishes the local abattoir was not so close by. It gives off the stench of death that the locals refer to as ‘the Vernon perfume’.
However, beneath the surface, cracks begin to appear. A reoccurring name, a rude seamstress and a spontaneously appearing and disappearing model, it doesn’t take long before her fragile sense of normalcy begins to unravel .
As the pressure mounts to deliver a successful fashion show, Samara’s coping mechanisms spiral out of control. She turns to alcohol and pills, blurring the lines between reality and dream. With her sanity teetering on the edge, Samara faces a critical choice: succumb to the darkness or fight for a brighter future, even if it means confronting a trauma she thought she had left all but forgotten.
Highlights.
One of the highlights of Tiny Threads is the inclusion of Spanish dialogue. In many stories featuring multilingual characters, the non-English language is often translated directly into the text or presented in a different font. However, Rivera has chosen to maintain the original Spanish, which I found refreshing and immersive. Translating certain songs and names, such as the name ‘Piedad,’ which means ‘Pity,’ enriched my understanding of the story. In regards to this, I was very glad that I was reading on my Kindle with the translation tool open and ready.
Drawbacks.
Don’t begin this book expecting a constant barrage of ghosts and supernatural occurrences. Tiny Threads is a more of a slow-burn psychological horror novel, where the otherworldly elements are subtle and understated. The narrative takes an unexpected turn into a revenge story, which is both surprising and satisfying.
I think the main drawback is the repetition of Samara’s days. This might have been purposeful representing the drudgery she was experiencing in a world that is toted as being glamorous and vibrant, but it slows down the pacing and deadened the tension of the story. The repetition began to feel like Groundhog Day. The only thing that drove time forward was the buildup to the fashion show which is counted down in each chapter. The final quarter of the book, culminating in said dramatic fashion show, picks up the pace significantly.
The Final Take.
Tiny Threads is a supernatural horror where the ghosts, surprisingly, aren’t the most terrifying aspect. Rivera expertly captures the harsh realities faced by lower-level fashion industry employees and the lengths people go to for success in this often brutal field. Despite its difficulties with repetition and pacing, this is a must-read for those who appreciate a complex protagonist grappling with self-deception. Rivera’s Tiny Threads is a thought-provoking exploration of the fashion industry’s darker side.
(3 / 5)
Published in April 2023, Catriona Ward’s novel, Looking Glass Sound, continues her tradition of crafting intricate narratives that defy easy categorization. Like her acclaimed The House on Needless Street, Ward expertly weaves a web of clues and red herrings that will unravel with each reread. Is it an atmospheric horror, a twisted serial killer mystery, or the coming-of-age tale of a writer? The answer, as Ward skillfully demonstrates, is all three.
The Plot.
In 1989, sixteen-year-old Wilder Harlow, travels to the Maine coast with his mother and father, for the summer. His family has inherited a cottage on Whistler’s Bay, all hope that this will be a fresh start for him.
On the first day, Wilder meets Harper and Nat; teens who roam the town with little to no adult supervision. The two quickly become his guides to the town’s hidden secrets.
As they explore the bay’s eerie beauty, Wilder discovers a sinister undercurrent. A terrifying figure known as the “Dagger Man” has been terrorizing families; breaking into homes and photographing sleeping children at knifepoint. Meanwhile, a more chilling mystery unfolds: women have been vanishing from the town for over a decade.
Wilder and his new friends are drawn into the mysteries and the truth begins to unravel as they explore the hidden corners of the bay.
This is only the first section of the book. What follows is Wilder’s experience through college, eventually returning to Whistler Bay as an elderly man. On his return things begin to twist and we find that everything we’ve been told is not strictly fact.
Highlights.
Catriona Ward is known for writing strong characters and here she does not disappoint. The novel introduces us to Wilder, Nat, and Harper as teenagers whose complex dynamics and relatable angst draw us in. Wilder’s college roommate, Sky, adds another layer of depth, offering a poignant exploration of queer coming-of-age.
While Ward’s intricate plot keeps us guessing, it also presents a minor challenge: the sheer number of twists and turns can sometimes blur the lines between characters: making it difficult to keep track of names and relationships. The introduction of two characters named Sky and Skye, in particular, can be confusing. Despite this, Ward’s character development remains consistently strong. Looking Glass Sound is a compelling exploration of human connection and the complexities of memory.
Drawbacks.
The overwhelming drawback for this novel was the structure. The first half of the novel follows a straightforward, linear timeline, allowing us to connect with Wilder and his friends on a personal level. However, the narrative takes a significant detour in the second half, adopting a complex frame-within-a-frame structure, or perhaps more accurately a book within a book… within a book. This shift can be disorienting, as readers are constantly pulled back and forth between different time periods and perspectives, often only to discover that certain events were not entirely as they seemed.
While this unconventional approach adds a layer of intrigue, it can also make the plot feel fragmented and difficult to follow. Ward’s decision to interrupt the narrative with explanations and asides can sometimes disrupt the pacing and immersion. While this choice may be intentional, it can also leave readers feeling lost and confused.
The Final Take.
This is not my first Catriona Ward novel, nor it will be my last. Ward writes stories that are built to confound the reader and make them question everything they’ve read. Looking Glass Sound pushes this a little too far. In my opinion is the weakest of her novels that I have read so far. In saying that I did enjoy the atmospheric horror of the introductory chapters and the dark academic feel of the college section. Following that I found myself becoming a little fed up with deciphering the plot.
(2.5 / 5)
