A Slow Burn That Actually Burns Summer vacation in San Francisco is consumed by zombie talk after Imogen wakes to them in real life on the news. But the impossible thing keeps on. The world ends before undead reach her door, and what Imogen faces is unthinkable: to leave her family in the apocalypse. We Aren't Who We Are In the End of World Imogen starts summer vacation to find her brother watching zombies on the news. Quips fly, but the catastrophe in Indonesia still rips the future from anything she loves. Containment slowly fails, and in an emptied-out San Francisco, people have left for the hills, for survivorships, anywhere but cities. By the time the East Coast's plunged into extinction, SF's left one of the last places for the undead to touch. But that still doesn't mean its empty streets are safe. Boba scavenging with a neighboring group of ex-techies makes life almost normal again, but each outing means more than just posturing every time they run into someone else. When the group needs unity she stands her ground, even if it puts her at risk—but she's risking them too. All her family wants is to keep safe, no matter what. But there's no more being yourself when everything about the world is gone. Whatever used to make sense, being brave or selfish, all that's there is life's end, violence the one thing that it brings. And the only way forward for Imogen is out there, waiting—they all are. A work of unrelenting immediacy, Where We've Made It Dark realizes the zombie fantasy more fully than the fantasy itself. It's not that scarcity shows us who we are—tribalists, misanthropes, fathers; it's Imogen's excessive desire and our own that's laid bare in all its traumatic reality.
Similarly to ‘The walking dead’ and ‘The last of us’, it focuses a lot on human relationships during a difficult time. How they grow, how they try to hold on onto their humanity, to their morality. [Potential Spoilers below]
Where we’ve made it dark opens with a familiar, chilling premise: Imogen wakes to the news of a rapidly spreading, 28 Days Later-style virus originating in Indonesia, turning humans into raging, devouring beasts. The initial reaction—the predictable human scramble for essential supplies, including the now-classic pandemic trope of the toilet paper panic—offers a brief, humorous reprieve before the true dread begins to set in. However, if you expect an immediate, action-packed rush of survival horror, you’d be utterly disappointed, as the book quickly pivots from a study of the zombie threat to a deep, often uncomfortable, examination of the human condition.
Fair warning: there's a lot of dialogue here. The characters spend pages debating the entire zombie apocalypse—how they'd fight, what gear they need, what the infected would even do. These chats sometimes get philosophical or existential, which isn't automatically bad, but honestly, these conversations felt more like they were dragging things out, holding off on the fear and survival stuff we were really waiting for. The focus shifts when Imogen's dad makes her go back to college because the global threat seems distant. However, they settle down in a house with neighbours, which really sets the stage for the book's main conflict.
And here's the kicker: the real source of fear isn't the zombies (who barely show up until way too late for my taste). It's other people. The tension is all about cooperation versus the temptation of looting, and the brutal ethics of survival. This book absolutely nails the psychological aspect, making you wonder how fast societal veneers crumble under pressure. That human dread is super powerful, but if you came for classic horror movie scares, this book—despite its genre label—doesn't really deliver that suspenseful chilling thrill.
The things Imogen and her new group start doing while they seemingly ‘survive’ the zombie apocalypse will make you turn up your nose and feel disgusted by their rapid descent into immorality. It makes you think: if people can drop to this level so fast, maybe we've already lost the game as a species, zombie virus or not. This deep, cynical look at collapse is where the book shines, even though the long wait for any actual infected action had me convinced for a while that the whole zombie thing was a governmental deceit rather than an actual infection.
In the last 2 parts of the book Imogen will be alone for a while, no longer with her family and group. She'll find another community and try to integrate but of course doesn’t last. As we approach the end, we get less and less dialogue, a perfect change of pace to convey the loneliness of her journey. Eventually she will stumble upon Reed, the man she falls in love with (one of her romantic interests throughout the book). From this point forward, they will embark on a shared journey to discover their place in the new world.
The ending is just…sad and heartbreaking and yet somehow fits? You can feel the pain, the grief, it feels too real because the characters felt too real and the atmosphere trapped us in isolation on several accounts.
This is definitely a heavy, challenging read that puts the focus on psychological horror and social commentary instead of guts and gore. Totally recommend it if you love deep dives into character and existential debates in an apocalypse. If you're only here for the instant, gut-punching horror of a 28 Days Later movie, this might not be the book for you.
Many, many thanks to Nicholas Crawford, Victory Editing, and NetGalley for the ARC. This is a voluntary review, reflecting solely my opinion.
This is a beautifully written story surrounding a young woman navigating the zombie apocalypse. The fantastical and often comedic view of zombie apocalypses, in general, belie the deeply meaningful discussion the author is prompting throughout the narrative. The themes explore human instinct and survival in a way that solicits philosophical investigation. The story is told largely via free flowing dialogue and while it may be unconventional and a bit challenging, I do think it works well. The tension the author creates from literally the first sentence is sustained throughout. While the book is medium/slow paced, the creeping dread keeps you turning the pages compulsively. Crawford’s prose are rich and there are so many memorable quotes throughout. I. Very much enjoyed this novel and would recommend it to fans of literary fiction, philosophy, and literary horror.
There’s something so deeply unnerving about watching the end of the world unfold, especially when the end means that everyone you love has the potential to end you.
Where We’ve Made It Dark is an incredibly challenging look at what it’s like to speculate how your life is going to change when a zombie apocalypse is imminent.
Do you stay where you are? Is there strength in numbers? How will you know who to trust? Is your family on the same page? Will they keep it together when crisis comes knocking?
You’ll find all these questions and more are first casually speculated upon while the zombie outbreak is taking place on the other side of the world, and then answered once things start to spread and get closer to home.
It starts similar to Covid, with clearing grocery store shelves, then a lack of a supply chain. Then you learn that you really can’t trust your neighbors, and panic is the greatest fuel for turning to violence for survival and to protect what little you have left.
This book was TOUGH. It had a lot of dialogue, which at times was a little bit confusing. The format was also similar to that of a movie script, which at times made it difficult to feel fully immersed in the story.
The characters were almost always on the move, going from place to place as they needed in order to survive and seek refuge or supplies. That being said there wasn’t a huge amount of atmosphere to be had, but what really made me keep going on this one was the level of tension that Nicholas has you feeling throughout. Like, edge of your seat tension.
This was definitely a very different reading experience, but one that I overall enjoyed.
I did really enjoy this book. A really good read, I was completely absorbed from the first paragraph in the adventure that enfolds with normal people trying to survive a zombie infested world. Good ideas, nicely done, I liked the characters & I really hope to read more by this writer, I do recommend.
"Where We’ve Made It Dark" is a gripping and unconventional take on the apocalypse genre. While it features the familiar presence of the undead, the story quickly makes it clear that this isn’t just another zombie survival tale. Instead, the heart of the book lies in the unraveling of humanity itself; how ordinary people fracture, adapt, and descend into new moral landscapes when the old rules of society collapse.The author does an excellent job of creating atmosphere, pulling readers into a world that feels equal parts eerie and unsettlingly real. The real terror comes not just from the creatures in the dark, but from the choices survivors are forced to make when survival becomes the only law left standing. The pacing is strong, though at times a bit uneven, and a few characters might have benefitted from deeper development.Still, where this book shines is in its exploration of human nature. It’s bleak, thoughtful, and often uncomfortable in the best possible way, reminding us that the greatest threats often don’t rise from the grave, but live within us when the structures of civilization collapse.A chilling and thought-provoking read.
Where We've Made It Dark By Nicholas Crawford Publisher: Curtain Literary Press Published Date: October 21, 2025 ASIN: B0F7GV8LTW Page Count: 506
Triggers: gore, violence, family separation, apocalypse despair, zombies (obviously), moral collapse.
Star Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Skull Dread Rating: ☠️☠️ (this is not your cozy zombie romp)
What Did I Just Walk Into? Imogen thought summer break meant iced lattes and sibling snark. Instead: Indonesia goes full undead, containment fails, and by the time San Francisco empties out, the only thing on the menu is boba and moral decay. Forget coming of age—there’s nothing left to come of age to.
Here’s What Slapped: Zombie apocalypse backdrop, but the real horror = people being people (read: terrible).
San Francisco as a husk: eerie, desolate, unnervingly believable.
Imogen’s POV hits like a gut punch and her desire to hold onto family, identity, anything makes her painfully human.
Tech bros-turned-scavengers with boba runs = chef’s nightmare.
Bleak, raw, and philosophical: this is more “existential trauma lit” than “shoot ‘em in the head and move on.”
What Could’ve Been Better: 506 pages is a long time to wallow in despair. You might need a support group when you finish.
Some pacing dips where the existential musings outweigh the actual plot movement.
A few characters felt more like philosophical mouthpieces than people you’d cry over if eaten alive.
Perfect for Readers Who Love: The Road but with zombies Philosophical apocalypse lit (if Sartre wrote The Walking Dead) San Francisco dystopias with unsettling realism Watching humanity unravel one latte at a time
This was a tough read, to say the least. I almost DNF'd this book early on because of a few major issues. The dialogue was incredibly hard to follow with no quotes or clear cues, which made it confusing to tell when characters were speaking versus communicating through texts or other means. This disjointed dialogue format kept pulling me out of the story and made some sections feel jarring. Additionally, I found the descriptions to be overly dramatic. The author threw in a lot of lengthy, detailed, and often unnecessary descriptions filled with big words that didn’t fit how I imagined the characters would think or speak. It felt very forced and made the narrative feel cluttered and overly complicated, taking me out of the world the author was trying to build. Despite these issues, I found the core plot very interesting and fast-paced, with a gritty, visceral survivalist vibe. The story’s concept is compelling, and I appreciated the intense, urgent tone throughout. However, I wish there had been more depth to the relationships and character development, as the characters themselves felt somewhat flat and static, with little growth or change over the course of the book. Overall, I’m still on the fence about how I feel about it as a whole. It’s a decent read for fans of intense survival stories, but the disjointed flow, confusing dialogue, and overly poetic descriptions made it a bit of a challenge to enjoy. If you’re into visceral, action-packed tales and can overlook the flaws, it’s worth a shot, just be prepared for the rough edges.
Thank you to the Author and StoryOrigin for the ARC.
RATING BREAKDOWN Characters: 3 Setting: 5 Plot: 4 Themes: 4 Emotional Impact: 2 Personal Enjoyment: 1 Total Rounded Average: 3.16
This is a human centered story set to a zombie apocalypse backdrop. It tackles questions of morality and the entrenchment of capitalism even when the world is ending. It’s unflinching in its gore while allowing for brief moments of tenderness and joy. And while zombies do eventually make an appearance, the real horror are the ones still living.
While I loved what the story ended up being, I struggled with the journey there. The formatting of the dialogue and sentence structures were completely outside of my comfort zone. I have loved books without quotation marks but their formatting was different from the one presented here and unfortunately this took me out of the story too often for me to stay fully engaged. I did wonder more than once if I would have enjoyed it more as an audiobook.
Thank you to the author and StoryOrigin for the arc.