Atlanta’s Reviews > The Only Good Indians > Status Update

89% – Chapter 31 Check-In:
The story has shifted into full escalation mode. The violence is constant, several characters are dead or transformed, and everything is colliding at once. It’s intense, surreal, and I’m definitely feeling ready to see how this all closes out.

• 44% and the narrative has jumped to a new POV: the daughter, basketball, and the ripple effects of everything that happened before.
• The supernatural is no longer subtle; it’s active and moving.
• The story is now clearly about consequences traveling across time and relationships.
• Easier to follow now that the book isn’t pretending reality is stable.

Currently Reading: The Only Good Indians — Stephen Graham Jones
Progress: 41% (End of Chapter 13)

This book just flipped the table on me. The slow-burn dread finally snapped, and now I’m questioning everything Lewis thinks he’s seeing or doing. Nothing about reality feels stable anymore. I can’t tell what’s guilt, what’s grief, and what’s supernatural — and that seems to be exactly the point.

📖 37% — Chapter 12
Lewis is fully unraveling at this point. The paranoia around Shaney and Peta is blurring into hallucination, and the narrative is leaning hard into identity confusion and guilt. The ceiling-fan moment says everything: reality is slipping, and the haunting is no longer external. Jones is letting the dread accumulate in the ordinary spaces of domestic life, which makes it hit even harder.

📖 30 % — Chapter 10
Still thick with suspense. The story’s tilting between relationship drama and folklore, and I can feel the two about to collide. The way Jones writes the elk feels almost Wendigo-like—a hunger that punishes greed. It’s unsettling, slow, and completely magnetic.

📖 26 % — Chapter 9
This one hurt. Harley’s gone, Lewis is unraveling, and the cops are every shade of awful. The horror’s no longer just supernatural—it’s social, psychological, and personal. Jones keeps tightening the circle, and I can feel Lewis’s self-blame closing in.

📖 24 % — Chapter 8
Finished Chapter 8 and honestly, relief mixed with dread. I was glad Peta didn’t abandon Lewis—he’s hanging by threads, and her loyalty feels like the last light in the house. But when he woke at 2 a.m. and heard the garage door, my stomach dropped. Jones plays that quiet fear perfectly: love and doom living in the same moment.

📖 21 % — Chapter 8
Okay, so the body horror is the elk. Jones turns guilt into anatomy—hooves, hide, and memory all stitched together. This isn’t jump-scare horror; it’s moral decay with muscles. I’m equal parts nauseated and fascinated.

📖 13 % — Chapter 5
Things just got strange. Lewis is completely fixated on this hide—taping it down, rolling it up, even microwaving it—and I have no idea why, but it’s clearly more than just leather. The scene’s unnerving, absurd, and kind of heartbreaking. Jones writes guilt like it’s something you can fold and reheat until it stops breathing.

📖 11% — Chapter 4
Finally past the chaos; Harley’s still alive, and the story’s found its eerie rhythm. Jones has shifted from raw brutality to slow, psychological dread. Everything seems normal again—but it’s the kind of normal that hums like a power line before a storm. I’m in.