A haunting literary thriller about youth, power, fatherhood, and the slow unraveling of a utopia.
"A gripping meditation on power and control... Get it!" — Kirkus Reviews "Comfortably one of the best books I’ve read this year, and among the top books I’ve read in my adult life." — Saffron Asteria, host of the BOOKED podcast "A nearly flawless novel... Farnworth has written a dynamite book." — The Book Review Directory "A haunting mix of intellect, obsession, and the slow, beautiful unraveling of people who think they’re smarter than their own downfall." — Ellie Pulliam, for Literary Titan
Driven by a shared desire for control, a group of Dartmouth students, led by the enigmatic Meddy, forms the Students for Fundamental Change. Their pursuit leads them to Stillwell, Maine, where they establish a secluded community with unconventional rules, challenging traditional norms and attracting those desperate to belong. But their utopia starts to unravel from within and faces growing scrutiny from the outside world.
Peter Holloway, father to Meddy’s children, becomes entangled in her vision as their oldest son, Paul, falls under the influence of a devilish initiate who tempts him deeper into his mother’s unfinished dream. As Meddy's influence deepens and the commune begins to fracture, Peter is forced to confront the monster he helped create and protect his children from the world he once believed in.
Lyrical and unnerving, Medusa; Or, Men Entombed in Winter is a chilling meditation on idealism, obsession, and collapse, set against the stark beauty and brutal cold of rural Maine.
Kyle Farnworth is an author and educator from New Bedford, Massachusetts. He grew up surrounded by the rich history and working-class resilience of his hometown, elements that deeply influence his writing. His debut novel, WHALERS (2025), was a finalist for the Indie Author Network’s Best Debut Novel and the Kindle Book Awards’ Best Mystery/Thriller, and was shortlisted for Reedsy Discovery’s Editor’s Choice Award.
A solid read that kept me guessing until the end, I found that this story was at its strongest when focusing on the interplay between members of the Stillwell community. The author does slow burn and menace well, with at least one terrifying character in the mix. Interested to check out his next, whatever and whenever that may be.
First of all, thanks to Kyle for sending me a review copy. Unbiased, etc, you know the drill.
Medusa: Or, Men Entombed in Winter is the type of book you don't know you need to read until it slaps you in the face, repeatedly.
I've screamed to all and everyone who'd listen to me that this book is a kick to the teeth, and as I closed it last night after reading the last page, I was still tasting the blood in my mouth.
It's basically Razor's Edge (by W. Sommerset Maugham. If you haven't read it... highly recommended) meets Herman Hesse, meets Greek Tragedies + small town dystopia + commentary with a dash of Orwell.
When you see all of the above you'd wonder if that can come out alright, and I'll tell you, yes, absolutely.
Peter is the main character in this story, and you'd wonder why, or how, if the story is named "Medusa", and I'll tell you that yes, because here comes the second part of the title : "Or, Men Entombed in Winter", where he is perhaps the first of the many that ended up entombed in that winter that is Medusa.
It's the story of a woman who refuses to accept what the world has thrown at her, and sets on a quest to fix it.
It is also a story that studies how many lies it takes to topple an Empire. I won't spoil the number to you, because, well, you've got to read the book.
It's a story of many stories, layered but also intermingled and separate.
A story of power, control and how easy it is to end up ensnared like a hare in winter.
It's a story told in three acts, like the Greek Tragedies, and just like in those, you know there'll be pain and suffering and twists and turns. And that The Moirai (and Kyle) will weave these threads into one incredible story that'll leave you reeling.
It also has a meta-story, where in part the story as you read it and especially the last third is mostly read purely through the reader's glasses.
Make of it what you will.
The pace and the flow of the story are seamless. The characters feel incredibly human, and you can't but feel sorry for some of them, or feel hatred deep in your heart, and wish to some nothing but the worst life could possibly do to them.
It's also a reader's book. (duh) But I mean it in the sense that the more you enjoy reading, and the more you've read some books or some literature or the classics, the more you'll enjoy it.
It's a reader's book.
It's firmly in the running for my book of the year. 4.8⭐️
One of the best indie books I’ve ever read and among the top books I’ve read in general. I was hooked the whole time! I started this yesterday if that gives you any idea. This book may not be for everyone but I thought it was brilliant!
This author is a star in the making! If this book got picked up by a publisher within the next year or two I would not be surprised at all.
Absolutely 5⭐️ I read this book in 2 days. The depth & detail of this story are so well thought out that it feels like it must've really happened. It's a perfect thriller that had me asking questions from the very first chapter and kept me locked in all the way to the very end. Really well done.
A veritable treasure trove for the Men Writing Women blog, this book answers the question, what if that white teen boy who read one Palahniuk novel and adopted it as his personality decided to write Fight Club but “feminist.” It’s a question we didn’t need answered, but here it is. The epitome of manic pixie dream girl (a trope I find so offensive I avoid using the term at all costs and yet, I had no choice here) decides to flip the script on the societal structures that have kept her down so long (never mind the nepotism that got her into an Ivy League school) by using her beauty and generic interpretation of high school literature to convince a bunch of incels to… start a cult?
It’s a slog. A lot of telling, but very little plot (until the last 4 chapters when everything seemed to happen at once) But the real kicker was in Chapter 10 when a barely mentioned woman is sexually assaulted and murdered. The author was clearly so uncomfortable with this topic that they danced around it, making it really difficult to actually understand what happened. I can read SA and murder in books, these are important topics that need to be part of mainstream conversation until the current culture shifts.
What I cannot forgive is when an author centers the pain of some dude who liked the girl OVER the actual harm SA causes. And not in a way to points out the inherent misogyny of that type of thinking, but in a way that is supposed to make us feel sympathetic to the boy whose crush got SAed. That is unacceptable.
I think the story had potential, there was an opportunity here for something really deep and powerful, but it just missed the mark. Too much objectification of the titular character, too much telling (we don't need a chapter summarizing the very bland history of every minor character), and not enough emotional depth. When I read a book, I want to feel as if the author has lived the experience with their characters. I did not feel that here.
So for that, I'm giving the book 1 star.
I received an ARC for free and leave this review voluntarily.
Very rarely does a story enthrall me from the authors note, yet here we are. Medusa by @kylefarnz was not an easy ready, nor a difficult one. It was exactly as it was intended - a story that makes you stop and think. The entire plot was like one giant Milgram Experiment, in the best way possible. Kyle truly captured the mindset of everyone involved, showcasing how the influence of one person, one thing, can send so many souls on a collision course that - whether they see it coming or not, leads to one, inevitable, tragic end.
Or is it tragic? Could it be exactly as it was meant to be?
Medusa is a novel that showcases how easily corrupted people can be, how with the slightest push of a button, society crumbles and those rebuilding a world exactly as Meddy envisioned it will do it so ruthlessly, mindlessly, passing up free will and any semblance of control for a world that in change somehow makes sense to them. A world where they don’t have to think, where some cease to exist. Losing their identity and all that might entail in the name of a higher power.
An ode to the classics with a modern twist, filled with words I can’t stop thinking about it. Medusa and the men she entombed will live rent free in my head forever.
Kyle Farnworth sent me a copy of his novel Medusa, or Men Entombed In Winter. I sent him a copy of my novel Where When It Rains. We made this trade via Twitter when he said he wanted people to honestly review his book. On his blog, Farnworth has also written about being frustrated by indie writers all giving each other five star reviews rather than earnestly assessing each other’s work. He writes:
“I’ve always believed that once a book is published, it’s open to criticism. That’s part of the deal.”
Having now finished Medusa, what seems to be Farnworth’s second novel, I offer this review.
Medusa, or Men Entombed In Winter is about a man named Peter who spends roughly ten years building a cult in a rural town in Maine alongside a woman named Medusa. The two meet in college where Peter falls under Medusa’s influence, and after graduation he follows her lead in taking over a small town called Stillwell, piece by piece, until they (or really, she) has it under total control and hundreds of men flock there to do her bidding.
My overall feeling is that Medusa, or Men Entombed In Winter is a book that would have benefitted from the assistance of an editor. First and foremost, there are a handful of typos present in the book. To be sure, even a major press book can have a typo. Maybe even two. But the reality is that typos pull people out of the story, and having a second set of eyes read over a manuscript before it goes to print is the best way to catch them. Aside from typos there are also a handful of syntactical usage issues that an editor would have hopefully flagged (EG: “For years, she’d ran from her name.” and “The place from which she excommunicated him from.”) There are even story details that are contradictory. A boy named Paul in one chapter is said to have turned six, then in a later chapter that takes place in the following year it is said that Paul is about to turn six. And editor would certainly flag these inconsistencies. But beyond orthography and nuances of biographical info, it’s the story itself that a developmental editor could have helped sharpen.
We can see from the title that we’re dealing with a reference to Greek mythology, Medusa being the woman (Gorgon, really) with snakes for hair who could turn men to stone with her gaze. In Farnworth’s book, Medusa (early on she goes by Meddy) has green eyes that seem to seduce men into falling under her influence. These men don’t become hypnotized per se, they just sort of do what she wants. And this is my primary problem with the book. Are we supposed to believe that she has some sort of mystical power? Are we in a book with some level of fantasy at play? Or are we in a reality no different from our own with a particularly charming young woman who can manipulate men exceedingly well? Everything else in the book would lead the reader to think we are in the latter; the real world where there is no such thing as magic or supernatural power. Yet Farnworth never gives us anything where Meddy is concerned to suggest she would be capable of convincing a large number of real world men to move to the deep woods of Maine and to take on a life of manual labor in her service. We are told that she is very bookish, that she wrote a college paper about the essence of power based on three well known pieces of literature, and that’s sort of it. The cult’s origins lie in a college group that Medusa and Peter found called the Students for Fundamental Change, but we never know what exactly they and their members are so eager to change. (They do like weed and beer and acid, though) When this group transcends Dartmouth College and grows in size, scope and power, becoming quasi religious, we still don’t really know what exactly the driving grievances are beyond some ambiguous desire on Medusa’s part for control. All we know is that Medusa was hot in college, then wrote an essay, then dozens of men flocked to the town she seized in the middle of nowhere after graduating. The reader is asked to run with a premise that is not convincingly established and as the book progresses we’re never given any view of Medusa that makes her seem incalculably alluring or cunning. Sure, we’re told that the men of Stillwell are desperate to win her favor, but we’re just supposed to accept it. The plot said so, sort of thing. Halfway into the book, we’re told:
“Meddy’s greatest talent was her ability to meet anyone exactly where they stood. It was the mark of someone smarter than most, someone who didn’t just read books, but absorbed them… Despite this, she never dominated conversation but rather danced through it with a captivating and almost elegant essence…For those lucky enough to speak with her, conversation felt less like dialogue and more like communion.”
Again, we never get to experience these captivating conversations. We’re just told that they happen. But even if we accept that this Meddy lady is a GREAT conversationalist, we’re also told (and see throughout the book) that one has to be lucky enough to get to have one of these communion level dialogues. It’s not like she’s running around, twelve hours a day chatting up her acolytes in a way that keeps them coming back for more. When she deigns to speak with someone, supposedly, that lucky recipient has a great time. Great enough that they're willing to keep growing her food and building her structures and even occasionally entering into forced “games” that test their willingness to please her. Oh, and there are no other women around for the majority of the life of the cult. So these hundreds of men are also cool with being effectively celibate (save those who take brief excursions to nearby towns to try to find some tail). The premise is a heavy lift, and heavy lifts need sharp storytelling to achieve reader buy in.
How do real world cults succeed? Typically it’s because they give their members an incredible sense of belonging. They tell them they are special and are going to achieve secret knowledge that regular people aren’t capable of understanding. Cutting new members off from the rest of the world and converting them into true believers is a process of breaking them down while also showering them with false love and praise. What exactly a life in Medusa’s cult offers is never really clear outside of some vague references to freedom. Only the character Brandon is described as having been a loser who moves to Stillwell for a sense of belonging, but on arrival he is resoundingly ignored by the other members. For years! Yet he stays. Why? Not because the carrot is consistently dangled before him, not because he is emotionally manipulated by a master con artist, but simply because the plot demands it. Later we find out there are several of these loser types in Stillwell who don’t “make it” with the cult, and who instead pal around with Brandon. But none of them ever just leave. This is how the book’s Medusa “freezes” men. They don’t turn to literal stone, they just remain in her orbit. Why? Because.
Reading Medusa, I often thought of Fight Club, a book in which a lot of young men become devotees of cult leader Tyler Durden. Fight Club succeeds because, first, it makes very clear the primary grievance of the initiates. The men who fall under Durden’s spell feel a general angst and unease regarding the meaninglessness of life in a society that is becoming more and more predicated on consumerism. The context of life after the end of the cold war in which capitalism has succeeded in vanquishing its primary communist rival makes a fitting backdrop to explore the sense of purposeless felt by men whose sole task seems to be, according to Durden, “to work jobs they hate so they can buy shit they don’t need.” Durden then closes his trap by offering these men the ability to feel alive. To feel the rush of adrenaline that comes from fighting and the raw pleasure and pain of vanquishing or being vanquished. Durden’s fight club gives members a point of contact with their primal male selves, which is a thrilling polar opposite to everything else in their day to day experience. The men who end up following Durden do so for convincing reasons. We as readers can imagine such a thing happening. Sure, it’s taken to ridiculous heights, but we can stay invested because the motivating factors are well established and more importantly, because we actually are exposed to the rhetoric of the leader and it does at least kind of ring true. In Medusa, we’re asked to believe that the initiates have been convinced by the cleverness of Medusa and we’re left to assume that at some point she said some really convincing stuff that earned ten year buy in from strangers, but we don’t ever get to hear it ourselves, so we can only scratch our heads as to why people would commit to a life that amounts to rural indentured servitude for this woman. Doubly so as the stakes are raised and murder enters the plot.
The main character in all of this is Peter, who first meets Medusa in a college psychology class. He is randomly partnered with her for an assignment and is smitten the moment he lays eyes on her (or she him). Over the course of the book, Peter will remain at her side, doing her bidding, and fathering three children with Medusa. Of all of the men in her cult, Peter, eventually, has the most reason to stick around. And here is where editorial suggestion could perhaps have strengthened Farnworth’s novel: There are too many characters whose headspace we occupy who are of too little value to the narrative. Jumping from Peter to Brandon to the Sheriff to the Priest, etc, it’s all unnecessary. Peter is the window into the story for the reader and the book would have been much stronger if it remained focused on him, on his struggle between his desires, his needs, and his sense of right and wrong. There is an interesting story to be told about a man slowly succumbing to the madness of another person, watching as each small step justifies the next until he is fully subsumed by a nightmare he never predicted and then has to find a clever way to escape. Unfortunately, that isn’t what we get. Farnworth doesn’t stay with Peter closely as his more innocent college mistakes devolve into large scale criminality in the real world, therefore the empathy we could be feeling for Peter by the end of the book just isn’t there, which is unfortunate, because the parts of the book that are seated in Peter’s perspective are the strongest.
Writing a novel is hard. Really hard. I’m sure Farnsworth put a ton of work into Medusa, or Men Entombed in Winter and he should be proud of having completed it. After all, it is a comprehensible narrative with a beginning, middle and end that some less scrutinizing readers will enjoy. I’m sure there is an audience for the book that is going to be onboard because for them the overall premise is enticing and seeing where it goes will be satisfying enough. I also understand that getting any editorial help if you’re an indie writer is expensive. But once the book is published and out there, there is no going back to fix it, so whether it’s friends or beta readers or an experienced editor, if indie writers want their work to be taken seriously, they would be wise to pass it under more eyes than their own before it’s, excuse the pun, set in stone.
My major concerns with this book were already highlighted and discussed by other reviewers, and while I could elaborate on their concerns, I will not. Instead, I will discuss some of the positives of the book. I will also do my best not to reveal any spoilers.
One of the things that I think the book gets right is the way literary snobbery (especially concerning the western, mostly white, mostly male literary cannon favored by old school academics) is portrayed as a slow and lethal poison, turning ordinary people into haughty zealots. Meddy (full name, Medusa) is the main offender in the novel, creating an entire cult around her and her worship of literature, even forcing her choice of books on others. These specific titles are to her an imagined shield, one that “protects” her from the real world. The narrator is another major offender, reinforcing Medusa's supposed greatness by suggesting she has more intellectual prowess than other readers, especially because of her choice in literature.
Here’s an example:
“Meddy’s greatest talent was her ability to meet anyone exactly where they stood. It was the mark of someone smarter than most, someone who didn’t just read books, but absorbed them.”
Another example:
“He [Meddy’s AP Literature teacher] told Dr. Foster that Meddy had a rare kind of mind. Her paper on Lolita, he claimed, should have won national awards.”
There are many more examples like this in the novel. At one point, Meddy states that she wishes to “write her own script,” essentially make her own way outside of the influence of literature, but she also continues to cling to western literary cannon as a buoy in her ocean of male cult followers. Even in the novel's most chaotic and violent moments, Meddy uses books like Lord of the Flies to assert her literary superiority complex. Saying where the novel ultimately goes with this would involve spoilers, so I will stop there, but suffice it to say that literary snobbery is critiqued here in a way that is, if not wholly satisfying, at least largely effective.
Other thoughts: Power dynamics, while not—in my opinion—adequately explored through Meddy, are better portrayed in characters such as Ricky Smiley, Sheriff Stratz, and sometimes even Peter, Meddy’s main male companion. The children in the novel all interested me, and Brandon was an excellent, complex character who I wished received more time on the page. Some of the symbols and imagery were thought-provoking in the way they were written. The epilogue also does a nice job of upping the intensity and giving the book a more thriller-like feel to it.
Final thoughts: It could be argued, to a certain degree, that the novel can be viewed through the lens of the Madonna–wh*re complex, especially regarding Meddy versus the other women who come to the cult compound in Stillwell (not a positive of the book, more of an observation). With that in mind, I am most certainly not the target audience for this particular story.
Thank you to Kyle for the free copy of Medusa in exchange for an honest review.
Medusa is a literary work of mystery and suspense set within an isolated male community shaped by ritual, endurance and belief. The novel unfolds deliberately, favouring atmosphere and behavioural detail over rapid plot movement, and builds tension through repetition and accumulation rather than conventional escalation.
At its centre is Meddy, a singular woman positioned within a closed male world. Her presence reshapes the dynamics around her, provoking loyalty, fixation and projection. The novel examines how admiration hardens into hierarchy and how belief becomes a substitute for judgement. Meddy functions less as a traditional protagonist than as a catalytic figure within a system largely defined by male behaviour.
The narrative moves between the origins of the community, its eventual fracture, and the personal history of Peter Holloway. Peter’s arc provides the book’s clearest line of continuity, tracing participation, complicity and eventual withdrawal. Fatherhood is presented in practical terms, defined by action, timing and transfer of care rather than emotional resolution.
Suspense emerges through setting and recurrence. Cold, waiting and silence recur as organising forces. Violence is shown as learned and maintained rather than sudden or anomalous. The novel shows limited interest in procedural or legal detail, focusing instead on moral consequence and lived aftermath.
The book resists the conventions of crime fiction. Investigation does not drive the narrative and closure is deliberately withheld. The epilogue reinforces persistence rather than resolution, suggesting that systems outlast individuals and that containment does not equal repair.
Readers approaching Medusa should expect a slow-burn narrative that prioritises atmosphere, structure and behavioural truth over pace. It is likely to resonate most with those interested in power, belief and the inheritance of violence, and with readers open to a deliberate, measured form of literary suspense.
3.5 stars
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
“Power is inherently unstable, requiring performance and sacrifice to survive.”
“Medusa, Or Men Entombed In Winter,” begins with 40-something Peter having breakfast with his two young daughters and his father, Frank, on a snowy December day in New England. Peter is about to ask Frank to raise the girls for him, for Peter is running from the FBI after leaving an isolated cult in rural Maine that his partner, Meddy—the girls’ mother and the “Medusa” of the book title—founded years ago.
We meet Meddy in Chapter Two, when she and Peter were in college. Seldom has a character given me the creeps faster. Kudos to the author, Kyle Farnworth, for his skillful portrayal of this woman. Obsessed with the written word, Meddy builds a student following around “Lord of the Flies,” “The Crucible,” and Shirley Jackson’s classic “The Lottery,” texts which, she says, “depict societies that rely on collective control, violence, and spectacle to maintain order.” It soon becomes clear that Meddy wants to build a similar society. Adept at amassing money, she buys land in a remote area of Maine and moves the group she’s started, which is composed almost entirely of men, there. Weird games arise that pit man against man, and the group against the nearby communities. What unites the three stories that justify Meddy’s disturbed practices is “the idea that power must be performed to be preserved. Whether through Puritan trials, small-town sacrifice, or island savagery, each system relies on spectacle and shared belief to sustain itself.” I couldn’t help being reminded of the spectacles used to maintain power in society at large. Perhaps the subtitle “men entombed in winter” doesn’t refer just to the snows of Maine, but to ways in which all of us entomb ourselves in dangerous and outdated beliefs.
Whether you want a reflection on where our world is today, or just a good cult read, this novel will resonate beyond the last page.
Wow. OK. How to write this. I was not prepared for the author at one point to capture my heart, hurtingly beautiful. This book still has a hold on me.
We start solemnly, Peter on his way towards his past, with a three letter alphabet soup on tow.
🔹️ "...but he knew it had to be Frank." 🔹️
I find the geography interesting, I know the author is right, I can not see this being possible in a less isolated place. I read on as if it was the most natural thing in the world reading about other peoples lives. Well, I guess it is at this point with social media and all, still, this is different.
🔹️ "Years later, that silence was his greatest regret." 🔹️
Peter is my favourite character. He seems to try to do what is right and what is best when it comes to Meddy... and his children. I am happy to say that I had no trouble following the story from the beginning with some trips down memory lane, all the way back when...
In the present day, the police are on Meddy's back, or should I say Medusa's back?😉 On the other hand, there were others I was more worried about than her.
This was a captivating read, and I can not help myself wondering... hoping... Will there be a second book?
Firstly, thank you so much to the author for providing me a review copy of this book in advance of its release. I'm truly grateful that I got to experience this work of art so early.
I like to go into a book without knowing what to expect, and I'm thrilled that I dove into this incredible story by Kyle Farnworth. Medusa is comfortably one of the best books I've read this year, and among the top books I've read in my adult life.
There's something rhythmically about Farnworth's writing that spoke to me, grabbed me by the eyeballs and lit a fire of excitement in my guts. The characters are so well formed and expertly handled. It's shocking in the right places, the pacing is an example of perfection for me as a reader and I already wish that I could read it for the first time again.
I'd love to tell you about the moments that I enjoyed so much, but that would be spoiling it for you. Strap in and get ready to follow Medusa. What she says is in your best interest.
This book continues to showcase the skill set that this author has to craft a fantastic story. The prose is top notch and forces you into a crazy world through the eyes of someone embroiled in it. The undertones of the scenario are deep and immersive, forcing you to think beyond the words on the page. As in his first work, the novel deals with the psychology involved in a crisis. This crisis being one that is (sort of) self imposed. I hated some characters, even the main character, for the choices he makes (or doesn’t make) but that is the whole point of the novel. Just read it and enjoy the journey. As a usual reader of sci-fi and military fiction, this style of work is usually out of my wheelhouse. But it is just so wonderfully composed and written, I can’t help but love the journey it took me on emotionally. I cannot recommend this author highly enough, and I think he will be a mainstream name in this industry before long.
“That was the first sign that snow wasn’t far behind, but by the time the white frost kissed the branches, it was already too late to stop what was coming.”
Power and control, fate versus free will. The age old questions we ask ourselves breathe new meaning in Medusa’s cult, the SFC. The author introduces us to the cult members slowly and deliberately, weaving details of their lives throughout the novel piece by piece to keep us wanting more. It’s hard to put this book down!
A perfect read for anyone that is a fan of a cult thriller. Farnworth does such an amazing job of painting the setting, it feels as if you are living in Stillwell alongside the SFC, wondering to yourself, could this happen to me? How do seemingly good people get wrapped up in evil? Are people born evil or are they products of their environment? A lot is left to the interpretation of the reader, making it a fun and exciting book you want to discuss with others.
Medusa: 4.5 stars —Really good premise that combines some other famous literary works. It’s certainly a piece of literature that wears all influences on its sleeve, so to speak —Most of the characters are well-written and engaging. Too much time is spent on some of the side characters, but I understand it’s emulating authors like Steinbeck and omniscient 3rd person POV. Does avoid head hopping, and the story is straightforward in a good way — A few too many typos; not taking a star off because those don’t really bother me *vague spoilers below* — Don’t love how Ricky, the “bad guy,” is the only one to talk with a (very strong) dialect. And when he corrupts another character, that character begins using the strong dialect too. Felt a little shallow. And yes, the reader is not at all rooting for Ricky, but the heavy handed dialect rubbed me the wrong way —Not a huge fan of the cliffhanger ending, although most pieces are thoroughly wrapped up. The last 1/3 of the book was extremely good
*ARC Review* Wow. I’m honestly kind of speechless about how this book made me feel. At first, I wasn’t sure if the writing style was for me, but after the first few chapters, I was completely hooked — and ended up loving it.
The plot was so good, and I loved how the story moved between different POVs and timelines, blending past and present so well. If you enjoy cult-centered stories and mysteries that keep you guessing, this book is definitely for you.
And that ending… I genuinely thought I was about to start another chapter, and then it just ended. I actually yelled “noooo!” because I was not ready for it to be over.
This was my first book by Kyle Farnworth, but it definitely won’t be my last.
If I could give this book more than five stars, I would. It is simply PHENOMENAL.
At first glance, Medusa appears to be a story all about control, however, as you are absorbed into the book, it reveals itself to be a narrative about love, loneliness and the human desire for connection. Farnworth's character work is masterful, with the major players seeming like people I've known in some iteration for years, and the tension throughout the book made me genuinely unable to put it down.
I honestly think this book will haunt me for the next of my life. I can only aspire to write something as brilliant as this one day.
This book captivated me from the very start and held my attention throughout. Kyle is an exceptional storyteller, reminiscent of Donna Tartt. His exploration of community and family, as well as how these values can be undermined by malicious individuals, feels especially relevant in today's political landscape. If you enjoy books that feature dark academia, cults, and complex family relationships, you must read this book. I think this book by a self-published author may be one of my favorite books of the year.
I received an advance review copy from Book Sirens for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Let me start by saying, this wasn't a solid 5 star read for me but deserves to be in the 5-star rating category. (Cult books, I think are just n0t for me)
The plot was really good, engaging. Pacing was consistent. The transition between the different character p.o.v's was smart and done really well. this felt quite dense reading it, not in a bad way, it just felt like an academically higher level read. I contextually couldn't find a fault in this. I found it to be a sophisticated literary novel that was well planned, written and executed.
It took me a little while to get into the rhythm of this book—it had a bit of a slow start for me. But once I saw what the author was aiming to accomplish, I was all in. By the end, the imagery, themes, and inner workings of the town clicked into place beautifully.
This is one of those rare books that made me want to start over the moment I finished it. Motifs I now understand, I want to go back and track. Now that I better understand Meddy, I want to watch her more closely. Overall, it was a book that I wasn’t prepared to like as much as I did.
I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.
In Kyle Farnsworth’s Medusa, dread falls upon the reader slowly, softly, silently, like fat flakes of New England snow. This is a novel about control, and Farnsworth demonstrates it from start to finish in this ghostly, terrifying and all-too plausible novel about men who find purpose and belonging in the SFC, an organization led by the beautiful and enigmatic Medusa, a character who I predict Hollywood actresses will one day fight to portray, such is her magnetism on the page. This book is both highly literate and highly readable, a hidden gem waiting to be discovered.
I really enjoyed getting to read this book, it uses the thriller concept perfectly and enjoyed how everything was told in this world. I enjoyed getting to know the characters were in this world and thought the use of Medusa in this was fantastic. Kyle Farnworth was able to weave a strong storyline and thought the overall feel worked well in this universe and hope to read more from Kyle Farnworth.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I had the opportunity to read an advanced reader copy from the author, and I’m so glad I did. I started this book with zero expectations, and it completely pulled me in. Kyle has a way of bringing characters to life through rich descriptions and authentic personalities — I could clearly visualize every scene as if I were watching it unfold on screen. The pacing kept me engaged, and the story left a lasting impression. Definitely one I’d recommend giving a chance!
This book was an amazing ride. I read it in one sitting it was so enthralling. Meddy/Medusa was my favorite character she was smart, powerful, and terrifying. The switch between the past and present kept me dreading the novel 's ending, but in a good way. I had to know what happened to the society and Peter. I knew it was bad I just didn't know how glorious the downfall would be to read.
Medusa is easily one of the best books I’ve ever read. It completely pulled me in from the very first page and I was utterly immersed in its world until the end. Kyle Farnworth has such a compelling style of writing, it’s intellectual, emotional, and deeply captivating. I truly cannot recommend this book enough.