A road trip story is the perfect vehicle for the combination of folk horror and Americana, and this novel does a splendid job of highlighting so many of the celebrated aspects of both those story-telling modalities while keeping some tricks of the contemporary horror genre up his sleeve. The collision of the modern and the traditional is explored in an interesting way. There is the stereotypical clearing in the woods that almost every folk horror story employs, the clearly delineated boundary between the civilized and the unknown, but that boundary keeps moving, following the backroads as we move from one roadside memorial to another, which asks interesting questions about the in-between spaces, and how to avoid them. Our trio of central characters feel genuine and interesting, each feeling rounded in their own way, and they complement each other well. They make sense together in ways that doesn't always happen when assembling a dynamic group of personalities, letting them all develop as more than just a collection of their quirks. There are a few supporting characters that were memorable as well, and while some of them felt a little more expected and stereotypical than our primary cast they were still fun, and they fit into the narrative well. The overall story itself is a fun take on a pretty traditional story, playing with tropes and expectations to come to a mostly satisfying conclusion.
I have to admit, though, this novel was long, and it really felt it. There is almost no spooky action until 40% of the way into the story, and everything before that point drags. I suppose that time is supposed to be deepening our understanding or appreciation of the characters while also setting tone and setting, but it really felt like a good amount of wheel spinning. Even when the scary things start happening it still feels like a far more languid pacing than I would want in this kind of story, where a more frantic and unsettled pacing would match the characters’ anxieties and growing dread… a hundred pages could be cut out and the story would be stronger for it. The writing style was saturated in an intimate nostalgia that can only come with a first-person narration. I liked that entry way into the story, I liked it feeling personal, but the whole story was framed as a recollection of past events. We get a foreboding line as the first sentence, the narrator saying he should have seen the warning signs from the start. Similar things are sprinkled throughout, just throwaway lines at the end of paragraphs, “little did we know we wouldn’t be smiling again any time soon” kind of lines. This is one of the parts of Chizmar’s style that wears the heavy influence of King, to be honest, and I was torn on it here. When those kinds of lines are used in a close third-person or omniscient narration they create a sense of foreboding and doom, with a little wink to the audience while you’re at it. But when it is used in first-person narration it is telling the audience not only that our narrator has survived whatever events are about to happen but also that they are in control of the narrative in a way that often lessens the tension, I find. Of course, it is a common literary trope within folk horror for the narrative to be presented as a story told by one of the characters, giving the feel of a campfire story, an urban legend, the tumultuous veracity of folklore. With that in mind I understand why this framing was employed, it fits with the mood of the folk horror mode, but it just didn’t work for me here.
The unapologetic saturation with nostalgia feels like another King influence, and it didn’t do a lot for me here, especially the halcyon descriptions of his hometown that feel like they take up endless pages somewhere around 2/3 of the way through the story. The writing itself was strong, it felt competent and curious in ways that I enjoyed. Disregarding the knowing asides, I thought the first-person intimacy was used to great effect. The dialogue felt genuine and real, never falling into the uncanny valley of stilted dialogue that can plague authors reminiscing on how young people speak. Sometimes the dialogue did feel a little juvenile given the characters’ ages and experiences, but for the most part it added to my appreciation for the depth of the characters. This is all to say the writing was strong, but it felt too stretched out and burdened by nostalgia to be entirely effective. I don’t think there was anything bad about the writing, it just didn’t seem to fit the story being told here, or at the least, it didn’t elevate it. Every scene where we interacted with a supporting character, be they a one and done character or a repeat supporting character, felt like a breath of fresh air. I don’t think this is because I didn’t like our main trio, as I did like them, I just think it points to what I felt was a pacing problem.
I have really enjoyed Chizmar’s Boogeyman novels, which did raise my expectations for this novel. Some of the writing and narrative techniques that contributed to the strengths of those novels are used here, but since the tone and subgenre is so wildly different they weren’t as effective, that’s what it comes down to. I still had fun with this story, I thought it was a clever take on a common story. Road trip stories have their own unique potential, a special type of energy, and it was genius to combine that with the folk horror mode or genre. I certainly recommend this novel, it was fun, especially if you’re interested in contemporary folk horror stories. If you go in expecting the story itself to take its time, and you enjoy luxuriating in that nostalgia, are happy to sit with a story that takes its time, then you will find even more enjoyment here.
I want to thank the author, the publisher Gallery Books, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.