Gotta say, this is not my usual type of horror read, but I watched the author tell a harrowing story on YouTube called This Is What Happened To Tish (view it here), and I thought, Damn! I gotta read this guy!
I ordered up a couple of books, but this is my first blush with Bowyer’s writing.
And man, I gotta tell you, this is a seriously dark, depraved ride. Like I said, not my usual type of read, but I’ve read all of Jack Ketchum’s stuff, and Bowyer—at least with this novella—plays very much in Ketchum’s sandbox.
If you’re looking for characters to love, look elsewhere. You won’t find them here. At best, you have one sixteen year old boy who’s not quite as broken as the rest of the characters.
If you’re looking for morally gray characters, look elsewhere. There’s really not a gray character here. Everyone’s soul is a blackened husk. Every life is held in disdain, and every death occurs with barely a blink of an eye.
Do I have questions? Sure I do! The opening scene hits the gas, and Bowyer rarely touches the brakes for the next 137 pages. It’s pedal to the metal writing, and Bowyer’s holding you by the throat through most of it so you can’t get off the ride. And I wonder how half the deaths in this book can happen with virtually no consequence.
But honestly, this isn’t the book to sit and reflect as you read the pages slowly, savouring each one. No, this is a blood and alcohol drenched, whisky-fueled fever dream of rage and anger and torment and murder and depravity. Yes…so much depravity.
I have one complaint. I would have loved to have seen some of the smaller bits teased in the text blown out into bigger scenes. Britney’s little trinkets that she brings home to the family, as one example.
But if you like your horror sharp as a blade and fast as a bullet and full of depravity…yes, so much depravity…then feed this to your eyeballs.
Before Britney takes them home to mother.
