This is a collaborative horror novel, meaning each of the twenty-five chapters is written by a different author.
Man, what a disappointment. I mean, it's a huge disappointment. I give it one star because it's written in American-English, the only language books should be written. I mean, I thought these people could write?
The editing is superb though, so that's another star.
So OK, it's a two-star book. If it had any sex or gore, I might go higher - ah, wait, there's that Edmund Stone chapter with the sister of patient zero taking that neti pot and putting it into her... OK, 2.5 stars. And MJ Mars has some graphic necrophilia, with that man inserting himself into the dead guy's pee hole... And Jay Bower gets that woman to rip that guy's penis off and... Yeah, OK, 3 stars.
So it's a 3-star book. If one of my favorite authors, Angel Van Atta, had a chapter, I'd certainly go higher! Wait - she does? And there's a little girl in her chapter? Oh, it's that poor girl that appears in Rhonda Bobbitt's chapter. OK then, this deserves four stars.
But that's it. It's not like a literary book, it's not like it has metafiction, right? Ah, dammit. Christopher Hawkins talks about the book itself, calling it an abomination. And Gage Greenwood has Kevin Bacon meeting his agent Durgin Stockton!
So this may not be total garbage. What? Heather Ann Larson in her afterword says it IS trash? And glorious garbage too?
OK, OK, 1-star rounded to five!
There you have it: a 5-star book!