The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World

by Brian Allen Carr

The black magic of bad living only looks hideous to honest eyes.

Welcome to Scrape, Texas, a nowhere town near the Mexican border. Few people ever visit Scrape, and the unlucky ones who live there never seem to escape. They fill their days with fish fries, cheap beer, tobacco, firearms, and sex. But Scrape is about to be invaded by a plague of monsters unlike anything ever seen in the history of the world. First there's La Llorona -- the screaming woman in white -- and her horde of ghost children. Then come the black, hairy hands. Thousands, millions, scurrying on fingers like spiders or crabs. But the hands are nothing to El Abuelo, a wicked creature with a magical bullwhip, and even El Abuelo don't mean shit when the devil comes to town.

Genres: Horror, Fiction, Bizarro Fiction, Novella, Weird Fiction, Monsters, Short Stories

125 pages, Paperback

First published May 13, 2014

About the author

Brian Allen Carr is an Aspen Words Finalist and two time Wonderland Book Award winner.

His books include OPIOID, INDIANA, MOTHERFUCKING SHARKS and several others.

He is from Texas and lives in Indiana.

Reviews

[Janie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This peculiar little story took my breath away. Brian Allen Carr mixes legend with disparate characters, squeezes them, then wrings out the excess. He presents us with something raw and elegant; sparse and strangely beautiful. His words have a life of their own, fluttering patterns in the dust and eclipsing daylight with a shadow of mischief. This was a delicious shudder of abstract menace.

[Sadie Hartmann]

THE LAST HORROR NOVEL IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD by Brian Allen Carr

Release Date: May 2014
General Genre: Adult Horror
Subgenre/Themes: Gross Out, Human Monsters, Small Town Horror, Survival, Folklore, Apocalyptic
Writing Style: Brisk Pace, Bizarro, Abstract, Experimental (non-traditional), Thematic, satirical

What You Need to Know: Do you remember the movie KIDS (1995)? So, for those who have seen it, this novella is like KIDS + La Llarona + The Simpsons <--- I'll explain.

My Reading Experience: I met Brian Allen Carr at the AWP Con in Seattle. I thought he was cool and got curious about his work. We talked about a mutual respect/love of Jeremy Robert Johnson so I reached out to JRJ to see where I should start with BAC's work. Jeremy broke it down for me and since this is a horror title and it was available on Kindle Unlimited, I picked it up.
After I finished I honestly didn't know how to even start processing it. Set in the fictional town of Scrape, Texas the story centers on several, interconnected (yet separate) people as they bump around in a boring, small town. It reminded me of KIDS in the way that the characters seemed emotionally detached; devoid of warmth. There's idleness that leads to destructive, morally bankrupt behavior. They entertain themselves with sex, drinking & drugs, and violence. It reminds me of The Simpsons in the way that nobody is safe from ridicule. Everyone is susceptible to insult or injury which made it humorous at times, uncomfortable, and unpredictable.
I was not expecting the apocalypse to interrupt the story's vibe with Mexican folklore, but it happens and it's amazing. When I read the last sentence, I just sat there, not really knowing how to make sense of everything but I loved mulling it all over in my mind. I had a dream that night, heavily influenced by this story, and when I woke up, I knew exactly how the title connected to the story. The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World. But I'm not going to spoil your reader discovery or shade your experience with my own version of what this whole thing means but I will say I was surprised at the depth and weight of it even though it didn't FEEL like all of that while I was reading it. That all happened later.

Final Recommendation: Short, entertaining, unique, original storytelling by an obviously talented writer who has an interesting take on horror and an impressive command of language.

Comps: KIDS (1995) + The Simpsons + La Llarona folklore + Bizarro vibes + Jeremy Robert Johnson stuff

[Danger · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m at a loss for words. This book was POWERFUL AS FUCK.

I read it in one sitting. It’s not very long. But Carr has a way with words that makes every sentence, every syllable seem to count. His mastery of language is so on point that even the words he DOESN’T use help color in the story.

And what is the story?

That is not so easy.

On the one hand, it’s about the denizens of a bumfuck Texas town as they witness the slowly approaching apocalypse. On the other hand, it’s a brand-new kind of fable, a new kind of mythology. And like the mythologies that came before it, it borrows bits and pieces of other well-worn tales – juxtaposing pieces of the bible and of folklore – to create something wholly new.

Full of every sort of dread you can conjure: atmospheric, existential, mortal, literal. But don’t dive into these pages expecting your typical kind of HORROR. There are creatures that ride in on the darkness, but sometimes the greatest monster of all is the character’s apathy. And the ending is at once allegorical and haunting.

This is a story drenched in sepia tones, stitched together by nuance, and charbroiled by the flames of hell.

I thought this was a goddamn great book.

[Lori · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read 5/26/14
4 Stars - Strongly Recommended to fans of bizarre not-quite-post-apocalyptic-but-definitely-shit-I-dont-ever-want-to-live-through literature / great gateway into bizarro fiction
Pages: 125
Publisher: Lazy Fascist Press
Released: May 2014


The end of the world is upon us and I can think of no one more capable of raining down some strange ass shit on the last of the human race than Brian Allen Carr. This novella is a strange and perfect mix of old school Mexican (and mostly made up) myths and legends - the wispy lost souls of the dead walking the earth, a plague of rouge severed hands that are aching to tear you to shreds, and El Abuelo, who comes to ask you a question you better be damn sure you're able to answer.

The backwoods people of Scrape, Texas are so typically human it hurts, and they uphold the usual rompy B horror flick requirements - the old, ignorant hillbilly with a closet full of guns; the token black guy; the young couple who fuck their way through the end of the world, mostly oblivious to the racket all around them; the local drunk; and two cute town chicks just to make it interesting.

Carr spends a little time setting up the history of this trashy little town, sharing the stories of its local yokels in the usual barstool-gossip sort of way. Within minutes of cracking it's cover, you're well acquainted with the secrets and skeletons carried by every one of Scrape's citizens.

And right when you're getting comfortable and about ready to chug back that first can of sweaty cheap beer, right as you're leaning back in that creaky ole porch swing, Carr pulls the mother fucking rug right out from under you.

In a matter of seconds, the entire town collapses all around your ears, and you gawk and gape as he unleashes the most god-awful end-times can of whoopass you can imagine.

The Last Horror Novel...is a quick, addicting read that runs you through the rinse cycle - soaking you to the bone one moment, mercilessly wringing you out the next, and whipping you around at break neck speeds - with some well placed breathers where time seems to slow down a bit - as our survivors take stock again and again of their ever-worsening situation.

The only criticism I have is with the ending. To me, it felt rushed and disconnected, very much the equivalent of Franco and Rogan's This is the End, which had some real kick-ass potential until that friggen devil-monster came out of nowhere and raped poor Jonas. The rest of the movie just devolved from there. Similarly, reading those last pages in Carr's novella, I got the sense that he might've shot his load a little too early and was left looking for a tissue with which to clean it all up. As if there was no where left to turn but to the devil, which, to me, even though we are taking end-times here, took a fairly disappointing turn.

All in all, a wonderfully wicked example of what the tamer side of bizarro fiction can be, especially for all you newbies out there who are still too afraid to give the genre a try.

[Marvin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brian Allen Carr's The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World features the author's sparse but very literary style in a short novel of about 120 pages, yet managed to fill each page with jarring descriptions and fantastical imagery enough for 10 books. He seems to enjoy flash fiction styled chapters that teases the mind and delight the eyes evidenced in the first paragraph (and chapter) of the novel...

Scrape, Texas - far from fame or infamy - appeared on maps, was passed through by travelers. A blink of crummy buildings, wooden households - the harsh-hearted look of them, like a thing that's born old.

and on to the next chapter.

Scrape, Texas is indeed a desolate blink of the eye. Its residents might be called losers but they never appeared to have been anyplace but Scrape and never had the choice of either winning or losing. When Carr's bizarre apocalypse arrives, you can almost hear the sigh of "What now?" coming from the town's inhabitants. The author evokes a number of Latin American mythologies in his very literary end of the world, appropriately so since the fictional town of Scrape exists close to the West Texas-Mexico border. Many sections are fittingly disturbing and horrific. But I am not sure this should be called a horror novel. From the first few pages, Carr have created an eerily accurate description of small town desert life with its drunks, gun aficionados, directionless teens, and a endless sense of resignation. It takes Mexican apparitions like La Llorona, disembodied hands and the whip-ladened El Abuelo to truly pull Scrape's inhabitants out of their present indifference.

The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World is best read as a painting in prose; a look at taken-for-granted ennui placed on its head and shaken. It is a beautifully odd and quirky vision. There may be some hidden meaning to life in this work but if there is, Carr is going to make you work for that meaning. Yet it is unarguable that this thoughtful work reads quickly and effortlessly in a way that keeps the reader both entertained and pleasantly, if disturbingly, disoriented. The only minor issue is with the ending that comes abruptly, leaving the reader thinking, "And then what?". But it fits. There is nothing ordinary about this novel. If you are looking for something different in literary fiction, you found it.

[Michael Seidlinger · Rating 5 out of 5]

Zoom in "street level" on Google Earth and where Scrape, Texas should be, you'll see, instead, Brian Allen Carr holding up this book and a bottle of whiskey. He'll chuckle, letting you know that it won't be okay. He's got the last horror story in the history of the world and knows that once you read the first few lines, you won't be able to look away.

You've already looked, now settle in for a story.
It'll be your last. Might as well go out with a killer buzz and Brian Allen Carr's latest masterpiece.

[Adam Light · Rating 4 out of 5]

While this is not a novel (I read it in a little over an hour), it is a strong, stylized horror novella that is really quite a fun read. Now that I think about it, it really isn't horror as much as it is bizarro with horror overtones. Whatever you want to call it it is definitely worth a read. I would have given it five stars, but it is sort of anticlimactic. But the build up is certainly crazy and original enough that I can overlook that fact.

[Beverly · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this compulsively in about 45 minutes. It is only a little over a 100 pages long, so no kudos for that. It was weird and wonderful.

[Hugues Dufour · Rating 5 out of 5]

The way Brian Allen Carr plays with words is magical. I'll even add this: his talent is close to sorcery. Every single one of his stories just pulls me in; I can't resist. No other author does it quite the way he does, and The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World is no exception. I dare you to read the first chapter and stop--try it. Let me know what happens.

Most of his short stories delve into meta-realism, but this novella plunges deep into the horror genre. It's a kind of a departure, the same way that Motherfucking Sharks is. I guess Carr uses the novella to try new things, and he pulls it off on both occasions. There's a moral here, and there's entertainment, and then there's the chills. It all comes together. Believe me.

Read this one, then move on to the short stories. After that, I suggest trying Sip, his magnificent first novel. And then blow your mind with Motherfucking Sharks. You won't regret it.

[Douglas Hackle · Rating 4 out of 5]

As you read this book, its suggestive title is always at the back of your mind, like a metafictional finger constantly pointed at the story as it unfolds, a story that distills, deconstructs, and satirizes the small-town-besieged-by-ancient-evil archetype that has dominated mainstream horror fiction forever. More of a long short story than an actual novel, The Last Horror Novel is at turns dark, melancholy, unsettling, and humorous. Awesome stuff. I’m drunk, so this review might be a bunch of bullshit. Whatever. In any event, I high-fived the hand on the cover when I finished reading it.

[Leah Polcar · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an incredible novella (or maybe it should be more accurately called a long short story rather than a short novel). Beautifully written and despite the sparsity of the prose, Carr manages to fully flush out the characters and communicate what it is like to live in a forgotten small town in the middle of nowhere. Absolutely stunning.

[Danielle · Rating 2 out of 5]

Apparently I am the only person that didn't like this book. I thought it was choppy, confusing, not scary, and left a lot of things unanswered. I might have liked it better if it was a novel and not a novella. It was a really quick read though.

[Samuel Moss · Rating 3 out of 5]

[This review was originally posted on The Small Press Book Review and the reviewer received a free .pdf copy of the book through that site]

THE LAST HORROR NOVEL IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD
Brian Allen Carr. Lazy Fascist Press, $9.95 paperback (128p) ISBN: 978-1621051466

The line between genre works and literary works is one that is invoked and argued over above and beyond its importance. Some of the most successful and most interesting writers of the twentieth century have created great works that straddle, blur, or evaporate this line and have done so without dwelling too much on their breaches. It seems that many of the writers that consciously adhere to the restrictions of genre or ‘literature’ do so mostly out of laziness or lack of imagination, though just as often these classifiers are placed (unwillingly even) on talented authors by others out of laziness or lack of imagination.
The Last Horror Novel in the History of the World, Brian Allen Carr’s latest novella, is prefaced by a rather hyperbolic, though not totally off base, introduction by Tom Williams which sets out to address Carr’s meshing of genre and literary styles. The preface establishes a strange tone for the work, one that hazards drawing the reader’s focus unduly toward the line between the two schools while distracting from the work itself. While it is true that The Last Horror Novel includes aspects classically considered found in either Literary and Genre works, this is not nearly as groundbreaking, nor are the elements as integrated as the preface would have the reader believe. Regardless, The Last Horror Novel is a generally enjoyable, if a little uneven, work.
The novella follows a handful of natives of (hopefully fictional) Scrape, Texas—a desperate, drunken, poverty stricken border town where activities for the natives include drinkin’, fuckin’, shootin’ and little else—as they encounter a series of horrific, apocalyptic events. It should be noted that there is a considerable amount of blatantly illogical racism here, well used for depicting the characters and the reality of the area.
In the first section, Carr captures Scrape vividly in a series of vignettes, touching all the points you would associate with a dusty border town, evoking a place we have all heard of without unduly essentializing or sinking to stereotype. Carr’s language pops wonderfully in this section. In only a few lines he is able, through the description of one character, to paint a whole section of the town,
‘Mindy keeps her herpes secret. Crawls in and out of apartments that smell of new carpet and microwaved soup.
She knows the boys of high school intimate.
They are sharkskin smooth and firecracker quick.
They whip in and out of her like snake tongues tasting air.
She examines their tightness, the curls in their hair.
Gives them more than they want of her.
Make them say her name.’
And regularly includes gems like, ‘The black magic of bad living only looks hideous to honest eyes.’ He builds up the stifling heat, boredom and malaise effortlessly into an unquestionably lush world. This was the strongest section in the novella.
Just as we get to understand the world of Scrape, it flips upside down. Scrape is apparently cut off from the rest of the world and an intense, bone piercing, bottle smashing screaming infiltrates the lives of the characters. Carr switches gears and tells us an old border ghost tale regarding ‘La Llorona,’ a tragic character who, rather than giving her children to an unfaithful husband, chooses to drown them. While the change between stories seems abrupt and the prose tones down a bit, the tale of ‘La Llorona’ dovetails nicely into the crushing sadness and despair of Scrape.
The next section is a semi-comic depiction of the residents of Scrape as they come to terms with ‘La Llorona’ and the horde of zombified children she leads into a nearby body of water. Here, the work takes on its more standard horror genre aspects, and I have to admit I lost a bit of interest. A scene where a drunken group of hunters nonchalantly blows apart the oblivious children is mildly funny, but trivializes the despairing vision of Scrape that Carr had so painstakingly, and thoroughly, built. The previously separate groups of characters come into contact with each other in different ways.
As ‘La Llarona’ and the plague of children pass, the survivors engage in the classic horror trope and hole up in an abandoned house. Here they witness another wave, this time a plague of autonomous black hands which crawl along the ground. Facing their imminent demise, the survivors begin to make the tough decisions like who should live and who should sacrifice themselves while taking out as many of the hands as possible. Keeping with the border theme, this involves, rather than picking straws, picking cheap beers out of a cooler. This part does involve some thoughtful implications regarding a long sober character’s struggle with drinking in the face of death.
The book ends on a thoroughly absurd note, the Devil is involved, and one which seems to have been written in with too much haste.
Overall, The Last Horror Novel is a quick and enjoyable read. I am tempted to say it lacks depth, though this is not totally true. Rather, Carr builds a significant amount of depth, then seems to grow bored with it, or at least moves to favor the standard horror aspects instead. He revisits them here and there but does not develop them to their full extent, which I found disappointing. While The Last Horror Novel does engage in both genre and literary styles, these are (unfortunately) put together piecemeal rather than used together. (May 2014)

[Gunter · Rating 4 out of 5]

I could have done with some more of Mr Carr’s prolific prose, as this story feels a bit rushed towards the ending, cut short. But his writing and storytelling is up there, for sure. Looking forward to picking up his latest work come January 2024.

[Autumn Christian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sparse, Texan horror comprised of excerpts that rise out of the book like tiny oases in a vast wasteland. Small town apocalyptic, featuring a cast of characters that generally would be delegated to minor "local flavor," people cast aside, prisoners to a myriad of vices. Then enter the whirlwind of monsters - first La Llorona with her ghost children, then the black hands, and ultimately the devil - all of which will shake the small town and leave nothing behind.

NOTE: I saw Brian Allen Carr read at Bizzarocon 2014 and it was like listening to how Texas feels. Definitely the best way to experience this book is having it read by the author in a hoarse screaming southern accent - I may even have gotten some spit on me, it was fantastic.

[Sherry · Rating 5 out of 5]

A brief review of a book short on pages and words. This took about an hour to read and in that short brief time a shitty little town with some fairly shitty people are faced with some epically messed up shit. The prose and format allow for the events and characters to really sink in. The author has the ability to make the most loathsome of characters likeable and empathetic with just a few paragraphs.

If you like your end of the world books to be wordy and involved this might not be for you, but if you appreciate good writing and love a character who might not be all good, but isn’t all bad either you might appreciate this little gem.

* Read it a second time. Still loved it!

[Dustin Reade · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brian Carr is one of the best out there. Pick it up and read it or I will be very, very angry with you.

[Niki · Rating 2 out of 5]

While the writing and ideas were absolutely spectacular, it failed to leave a great impression or an impact on me, because of its very short length.

[David Bridges · Rating 5 out of 5]

As an already established fan of Lazy Fascist press and Brian Allen Carr I was super excited about the release of Brian Allen Carr's "The Last Horror Novel In The History Of The World". So excited in fact it jumped to the front of my "to be read" list, which rarely happens. This novella is a short read but that doesn't mean it is a simple read. The novel clocks in at 120 something pages but covers enough ground for a full 250 to 300. Carr does an expert job using minimalist prose that reminds me of Jim Thompson or Raymond Carver. More recently if you enjoyed J David Osborne's "Low Down Death Right Easy" or Katherine Faw Morris' "Young God" then you will enjoy this book for sure. The tension scorching under the surface of this novel is what keeps it going. You don't really get to the real action until the last few pages of the novella. The story is set on the border of Texas and Mexico in a town called Scrape, Texas. The town and its residents signify what the name implies. Aside from the sparse prose, my favorite thing about this Novella is instead of using the same old tired horror/end of the world allegories and tropes , Carr introduces us to some region specific monsters that really bring the story home and makes it stand out. This book is definitely at the top of my favorites of 2014 list and if you read it I am sure it will be at the top of yours. Read it, think about it, and read it again... It was even better the second time around!

[ipsit · Rating 4 out of 5]

The most appealing thing about Carr’s horror is the number of forms it takes, and the subsequent mutations the story’s landscape carries out along the way. The youth of Scrape, Texas, are gas-station kids. When fucked-up creatures begin to appear in their town, they barely slow their parade of drinking, fucking, and joking. More than anything, they treat the new developments—a woman in white who hoards dead kids in the water, black hairy hands that crawl across the ground grasping for anything they can get a handle on, etc.—as just something to do. Carr can stack quite a nasty string of messed-up imagery, and yet the life inside the book continues on, flipping back from lines of death into more beer, more sense that everyone was just as fucked before the monsters rolled out as they are now.

Throughout it all, Carr’s magic shows in how he handles territory most would strand as genre. He fills the pages with magnetic, mostly sparse language, not far from how Robert Coover’s recreations bring new threads to a corpse. His new mythology, set right in the middle of nowhere, is new and old at once, sick and rhapsodic, alive and not afraid to die. “The black magic of bad living,” the book reminds us, “only looks hideous to honest eyes.”

[Charles Dee Mitchell · Rating 4 out of 5]

Is horror becoming the new frontier for young authors who have established themselves in the world of literary fiction? Did their parents or older siblings let them watch every horror film available on VHS in the 1980;s, and so tales modeled on the tropes of those films must occasionally burst from them like the alien that came out John Hurt's chest?

Carr's novella, which by the way is beautifully packaged into a 121 page book, takes a typical cast of small town young people and puts through a night of impressive terror. And he does this without making the whole things seem like a film treatment. It's all good, gory fun that builds to an apocalyptic climax. This is a very rough night in Scrape, Texas.

[Rodney · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is a special quality to this book that is indescribable. It is certainly one of the most powerful short stories I have read. Carr never disappoints me, and this is probably the most poetic of his books. I could have continued to stick my face into this one for such a longer time. It was over too quickly.

[Kelsey · Rating 2 out of 5]

It's hardly a book; it's hardly a short story. A couple of seemingly unrelated events destroy a town and kill their residents. There's little to know buildup and while I did certainly feel anticipation to see what happened next, the pay off was not satisfying. That being said, it's so short, give it a shot. You may totally disagree with me.

[Jacob · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's no Motherfucking Sharks, but it'll do.

[Pedro Proença · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holy fucking shit.

[Robin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brian Carr's writing is a little different than most, and that's why I like it. It reminds me of some of these syfi movies and I can watch them all day long.

[Stephanie (Books in the Freezer) · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a weird story about a group of people in Scrape, Texas watching the world come to an end. I enjoyed seeing Mexican folktale La Llorona feature as a villain in a horror novel. The chapters were very short and often didn't even fill up the page. The author was great at immersing the reader with imagery, but I wanted a little more out of the story.

[Maggie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m not great at star ratings. I thoroughly enjoy Carr’s writing style. He makes great impact in few lines. The violence and gore are relevant and, honestly, appreciated. I recently bought all of his books & plan to read them during my holiday downtime.

I previously read Motherfucking Sharks, which is a gem.

[Andrew Stone · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book, although full of beautiful prose like Carr's other books, is stripped of a lot of his language, and instead, readers are left swimming through Scrape's bare bones. But really, if the back cover description of this short novel doesn't grab you, nothing I saw will. I love that Carr uses horror legends from Spanish mythology. Besides that, his characters are great. Overall, I loved this book. Admittedly, I liked Motherfucking Sharks more than Carr's latest, but Motherfucking Sharks is a book on another level of genius. And therefore, just because Carr didn't outdo his last effort, this book is easily still one of the best books of the year. All in all, another win for Lazy Fascist and Brian Allen Carr. Cameron, LFs editor, told me that he and BAC will be working on more books in the future, and I pray that this is the case. Together, these two produce the best literature being published today.

[Jamie Grefe · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first thing that struck me about this book was the careful language, followed by the book's structure. Carr's attention to language is a precise happening, a distinct (compelling) voice both in narration and characterization. That is, he possesses the ability to inhabit--in a very short space--a multiplicity of "real" voices, both believable and stylized while maintaining depth and focus. The structure is a kind of weaving and unweaving that, for me, had a certain filmic quality, while not verging on making that the pure focus of attention. I don't think I've read this kind of horror novel before. I don't think this kind of horror story existed before Carr told it, in the way that the structure itself becomes a kind of finality, a kind of void. Definitely recommended.