I have a headache the size of Texas and it has Simon Clark’s name written all over it. I’m not sure how many of you know this, but I am a forgiving woman. It’s true. I give each and every author four attempts to win me over. That’s right, four tries to grab me, keep my attention, and scare the living hell out of me. If, after four shots, they still haven’t managed to persuade me to enter their world, it’s over between us. For both my sanity and the author’s sales, I end the relationship. Mr. Clark, Simon, I’m sorry but it seems that time has come for us. In other words, Simon, we are soooo over!!!
The plot is a recycled storyline. It's been written better, in much better books, by far better authors. A cavity personified, the story revolves around a newly revamped band that decides to house-sit in order to practice their music in sweet, solitary confinement. Of course, said house turns deadly in a hurry, for a few theoretical reasons, but nothing truly concrete. How does the house turn deadly? Well, to give it away would be wrong and well, I just refuse to exert more energy than is necessary on a book that I loathed. Let’s just say, clock chimes and bad dreams are involved and leave it at that.
Vapid and irritating, the characters are as dead as disco. The five personalities don't have any, nor do they have or develop any type of background or history. They are simply five people who wander around playing out their patterned parts without feeling or realistic motivation. The only things they do have in abundance are their descriptions; which brings us to Clark’s style of writing. Described ad nausea, Clark repeats the same worded descriptions over and over. The character Fabian, with the pretty, long blond hair is lordly. You hear that people? The man is lordly. Every time his mannerisms and dialect are described – it’s simply lordly. Do you need another example? Take Fisher, another character. Every time he speaks sarcastically in his head, it’s flippant. At 105, I stopped trying to count the word ‘flippant’.
Clark’s descriptions make King and Rice look skimpy. The author describes the characters at least twenty times, the surrounding area forty times, and the house more than I care to remember. Also, the descriptions are clumped together rather than spread out. The minute he starts describing, it goes on for pages; which, of course, drags on the pace. The speed of the events take forever because in order to get to the action you have to trudge through the descriptions. I kid you not; watching platypuses mate is more exciting than this book. As for the atmosphere, there is none. Thanks to the blinking signs and the million-and-one typos that ran rampant throughout the book, atmosphere never even got off the ground. And as much as I would like to pound the pain and agony that I had to go through into this review, I think a few examples are in order…
“Fisher couldn’t stop grinning now the dog appeared to be recovering”. – pg. 28
“Could there someone be walking upstairs? – pg. 36
“There’d no been discussion or democratic vote in the band” – pg. 42
“Fabian shrugged. ‘I liked those demos that Fabian played me…’”. – pg. 241
These weren’t the only typos, but they give an idea of what lies in wait. Character names are apparently interchangeable, and their ‘shticks” can be used by one and all, though Clark works hard to set them in stone in the introductions. Also, there are comma splices, repetitive words, misuse of: the definite article, pronouns, and prepositions. Missing words, words out of order, and two completely different thoughts running into each other is just the icing on the cake.
Now, I know you guys are asking yourselves, “Wasn’t there something that was good about this book?” The cover was decent, but that’s it. In fact, the only thing that kept this book from the negative star rating was its resilience. This book was the victim of quite a few unfortunate events. First, it was accidentally left out in a torrential rainstorm, and then it was bled on by the book that accompanied it in said rainstorm. And after blow-drying it back to life, it, of course, fell apart. Then, after I glued it back together, it was accidentally tossed in the ocean. After two days of drying, it accidentally fell in the pool. And finally, it was thrown off of my deck. That last incident was not, I repeat, not an accident. Still, this book lives. Wrinkled and mangled, but it lives. Amazing.
My rating? I give it a 1, BURN IT!! People, please, do not believe the hype!! After having spent the better part of my vacation with this book and counting up all the hours it stole from me, a little piece of me died inside. Save yourselves, treat this book like the thief it is and lock those wallets!!
-As reviewed for Horror-Web.com