Book Review: Scurry by Seann Barbour (2025)
I’ve been reading Seann Barbour’s work for a few years, and he’s always struck me as one of those indie authors who had real potential. While his earlier work felt a touch green and unorthodox in its explorations, he’s always had this odd absurdist mirth and a penchant for crafting unique situations that I’ve appreciated. He can also put a sharp edge on an emotional scene in the way only the most-talented authors can.
I’m pleased to say that Scurry feels like a big step up for Seann—a culmination of all these years of grinding in the indie space and building an audience. Right up to the end, I was dialed into this book, giving it every spare minute I had. It feels at once like a throwback to a time when popular literature was more patient, yet also like something unique that moves through its plot at close range, really holding tight to the perspective of the character.
“Only dangerous after they’re dead”
Catty Hammond has always had a strong affinity for cockroaches. In fact, she can talk to them, sense their emotions, and connect with their awareness. This connection played a vital role in helping her escape from the Spiderweb Killer a decade ago, when the idyllic suburb of Hilly Green was turned upside down by the discovery of a serial murderer in their midst. Now Catty has come back to take care of her dying mother, but the traumas of her past—and the killer—may still be lurking here.
I love the way this novel took its time setting up, delivering a nostalgia-drenched coming-of-age story in the first act that recounts Catty’s high school journey in patient detail. It’s not something we typically get in novels these days, but it’s the only thing I’ve read recently that dug into the long memory, dusted off the boxes, and reminded me there is some fleeting, arguably precious romance about the season we all spend on adulthood’s cusp.
For a good stretch, there’s nothing more horrific in the novel than childhood bullying, but that means readers really get to sink into the characters and appreciate them before everything falls apart. It’s unconventional in its structure and wonderfully patient in its development.
From there, the story does a great job blending past and present, charting Catty’s return against the backdrop of what she experienced as a teenager. Beyond the horror elements, the book offers a worthwhile secondary reflection on the social structure of the place in which the story occurs. In this case, much of the energy is dedicated to articulating the sense of belonging we create in shared spaces—between outsiders, normies, and the way in which those spaces are shaped by the dominant group and how they clash when forced to coexist. I think much of this commentary feels more organic and lived than what we see in many books that try to tackle specific social issues. It’s refreshing, and while none of it is going to spawn a new social movement or radically change how we interact, there’s a universality to the explorations here that I really appreciate—and that you won’t find in works put out by traditional publishers.
I did have some minor issues with the plotting—specifically that the villain is abruptly revealed as someone the reader hadn’t meaningfully encountered before—but this feels more like a low point in what is otherwise an exceptional novel, rather than a true loss of form. While we may all remember startling twists and unexpected revelations we encounter in literature, these things are in service of solid fictional narratives, not supported by them.
Final Thoughts
All in all, it’s a rock-solid thriller with some really exceptional writing, and a big step up for author Seann Barbour. While the journey itself isn’t as twist-filled as in some comparable novels, Scurry does a lot of great things that we just don’t see often in popular literature anymore.
Score: 8.0
Strengths
Exceptional, well-realized characters and setting
Themes resonate beyond the story
Effectively creepy in key moments
Weaknesses
Somewhat straightforward
Calibrated best to a certain generation (this is how I say people more than a decade older or younger than Seann may not like it)
You may also like: The Maw, The Last Day
