I like Clay McLeod Chapman because he's always excited to tell his story. There's a pervasive energy in his writing that keeps readers immersed, and a palpable stylistic enthusiasm that just makes for infectious reading. He’s never just writing a scene, just recounting events, but constantly spinning the tale, letting the roots already laid down dig a little deeper into the reader’s mind even as he describes the new growth in the current chapter. He sells his narrative very easily, and be it some trick of his style or Satanic super powers, I never fail to sink into the initial narrative arc of a Chapman novel. 

The Croning features one of the most memorable opening chapters I’ve encountered in recent memory: a grimly whimsical (and slightly horny) retelling of Rumpelstiltskin, in which a royal spy tracks the fabled bargainer to a hinterland and finds that his quarry serves an esoteric deity called Old Leech. The strange god is a primordial cosmic entity who exists in some unknowable outer darkness but regularly makes their presence felt on Earth. The spy returns to his queen with the dwarf’s name, but when the fated day comes round, the hard-won knowledge has no effect, and the imp takes the queen’s child and then brings her and the spy to a bloody end.

In All the Fiends of Hell, Nevill launches his horror show on page one, spending little time on the events that preceded the apocalypse in either reference or return. The new world is ominous and still, and those that dwell in it are ill-equipped to parse the mysterious dangers that confront them. Nevill's hallmarks are here: the steady, introspective, reflective nature of his protagonist; the immutable and almost incomprehensible creatures that defy ready visualization; the escalating helplessness of those pitted against them…

The Rain Artist excels in juxtaposing a horrific vision of the future with instances of resonant beauty that serve to keep the story interesting and showcase the author’s impressive and instinctive understanding of human experience. The writing is strong enough to outpace the imperfect plot, effectively drawing the reader into its unique perspective until the world of The Rain Artist feels dangerously close to our own.

Slewfoot is a wonderful tale that lives to subvert expectations, feeling more like a darkly whimsical fable than a horror novel, and tinged with elements of legal drama and romance which round out a remarkably original novel. Brom's vision, patiently revealed, is one of depth, promise, and refreshing originality among the wider fiction about this historical period. Though ready for a popular audience, this novel touches literary elements, wisely and thoughtfully engaging the topics of belief, faith, trauma, and belonging. 

‘Billed as ‘found fiction,’ this collection elects to shape the narrative format rather than the thematic content of the stories within, presenting each entry as material records detailing separate (mostly horrific) narratives that are preserved in 9-1-1 calls, oral history transcriptions, police reports, forum posts, video game walkthroughs, SMS texts, as well as more familiar literary staples like journals, letters, and newspaper clippings.’

Consciously or otherwise, Barbour understands the novella, keeping the pace steady and moving so that any details which might not be ready for scrutiny aren't dwelled upon by the reader. This is an instinctive talent, one of those things that is impossible to teach but which he does especially well. In a way many popular authors cannot, he makes his characters incredibly present in what they're doing, as Ronald not only takes up day drinking in public, but remarks on the pointlessness of retrieving an empty can when he misses the garbage bin. Many authors overlook the ways in which traumatic experiences might affect character behavior, and I want to credit Barbour on how we he constructs a believable progression of his character’s psyche as Ronnie struggles to come to grips with the bizarre cycling nature of his existence.

‘The overwhelming feeling with this novel is that the author wants to write a spooky story about a group of childhood friends while also penning a modern morality tale about the dangers of purity culture and casual racism. Keeping a foot in each lane, White struggles to drive either narrative at more than a surface level, and the novel feels far short of what it could have been.’

‘For me, I AM AI was less about the nefarious creep of technology and potential negative impacts of generative artificial intelligence than it was about a very realized, widespread hardship that is already well-proliferated today: the near-inescapable compulsion to sacrifice our innate desires and personal ambitions in the name of financial prosperity or security.’

While there are some stylistic and depth choices I’m not a fan of, Pre-Approved for Haunting is a very good collection, and a wonderful introduction to the work of Patrick Barb. Most of the stories are mature, effective works that linger long in the memory, particularly when their real-world inspirations are familiar. Despite not loving the particular story, I’ll never look at a black crayon the same way again. Barb is an excellent writer with a strong editorial eye, and as a reader, I’m eager to see what he does next.

‘Like a growing number of popular horror novels, it’s not enough to just be traditionally scary, to conjure ghouls and monsters that crawl out from the dark places and threaten mortal lives. No, now it seems that what readers fear most must be rooted in reality, as evil as any esoteric demon or creepy clown, but also a tangible, crudely familiar terror that many experience at some point in their lives–poverty, discrimination, so on. Quite simply, with each passing generation, we in the Western world fear the evils of the unknown less and less, instead turning weary eyes to the darkness which spills forth from the cracks in our own society, a corruption which has always been there but from which we are collectively, in unbroken legacy with those who came before us, seeking some exit.’

‘Fellstones has many brilliant elements affixed to a plot that doesn't quite do enough, and the ideas and levels of creativity that are showcased in the novel’s backstory are greater than the execution wherein they are presented.’

‘Episode Thirteen is the story of a cable network ghost hunting show that lifts its plot outline and setpieces from found footage horror films, then presents the result of this as a distinctly engaging and surprisingly original horror novel. It’s quite a feat, taking two widely derided horror property staples and reimagining them as something that mutes the most common criticisms of its components. Frankly, I’m surprised to find that more writers haven’t made a tilt at this particular windmill, as it now feels like a very promising course after seeing what DiLouie has done here.’

After a drawn-out divorce that ends with a whimper, Jonah Talbot leaves San Francisco to return to his hometown of Albuquerque. It’s a humbling situation that many will experience at some point: the recognition that a thing you’ve invested in, gave yourself to, trusted and loved, is no longer going to give back to you or be part of your life.

‘Collage Macabre is an elegant and incisive anthology that showcases some of the best young talent in speculative fiction today. Spanning eighteen stories and as many authors, the collection tries on all manner of form and circumstance with the only true unifying element being that each tells the story of a creator.’

‘Langan marries the promise and potential of Lovecraft with the discomforting incertitude of Poe before drawing both into the modern era and signing his own name at the bottom.’

‘Tender Is the Flesh goes hard and gruesome from the outset: in this novel, cows, pigs, poultry, and all other forms of animal life have all been rendered inedible by a virus which kills the humans who consume it, and hence humans simply consume each other. That’s right, Tender Is the Flesh’s premise is a world where humanity is less than three decades removed from the proliferation of mass cannibalism.’

‘Jiang has done something truly masterful here in that she leaves just enough blank space on the pages, and just enough secrets in the novella, for the curious reader to seek layers of meaning which may have not been intended or expected. This is a line only the best authors can walk, and it imbues their fiction with a timelessness and sense of resonance that many readers will find affecting, and the right reader might just call perfect.’

“Across the road, those who watch the vicarage’s transformation see windows beaming golden. Not only has the grin at ground level broadened, but the eyes are open and alight upstairs. A watcher may remark that after sleeping for so long, the building appears to have been roused from within.”

‘This is the moment I knew we were going into a story more about the injustices of time’s passage rather than antediluvian horror. Dan Simmons has taken his pure, elemental child characters from Summer of Night and put them in the microwave.’