What a world we live in.
Just this year, there have already been over 20 school shootings in the United States. If that isn't enough to make you start seeing that there is something horribly wrong in our society these days, I don't know what will.
What if there were a place you could go, a place to live away from all the chaos, the news feeds, the violence, the technology? A quiet back-to-nature sort of society of like-minded individuals who just wanted to reboot and get back to what really matters, like spending time with family? Would you give up all the modern conveniences to know you'd be safe and far away from potential man-made disasters?
That's the idea behind the island community of Halcyon. But this book is so much more than that.
This is an intricate multi-perspective book that seems almost disparate in the beginning, jumping from one plot thread to another that is completely unrelated (but also totally captivating, I might add). But hold on. Because the more you learn, the more you (almost) wish that you could have stayed in the dark just a little bit longer, dreaming of that perfect place.
But everyone has their darkness, and everywhere has its flaws. Eden doesn't exist in Halcyon—at least not once you scratch the surface.
There is so much that I loved about this novel. I wouldn't call it a slow burn, because although it does take a while to get to the island itself, there is so much going on in the plot that I really stayed invested in the characters, their individual stories, and the mystery behind putting together the missing pieces.
And the pacing really does not let up. Though at some points I could definitely see where the story was headed, I was propelled through the pages by the writing and the characters. The only weak link of the characters to me was Shirley, the older sister, who felt underdeveloped at times and was used as a device to move the plot toward its inevitable conclusion rather than a person making decisions of her own.
As I have been thinking through why we read (and need) horror a lot recently, I think this book offers a great argument for exactly why horror is so important. It touches on real-world issues, fears, and frustrations about the state of our society and then imagines what if?
That "what if" spins a lot of different directions, but most memorably for me, in the mind of young Edith. Suffice to say that she reminded me a bit of some kids from King novels.
I went into this book not really knowing what to expect, and I was totally blown away. Youers has a great talent for story and I would love to read another of his books!
My thanks to St. Martins Press and the author for sending copies of this one to the Nightworms to read and review!
What makes a good story? I’m not talking horror, but just a good story. Characters who feel real, a unique and moving plot, some sort of social significance, just plain old good writing? Here’s the thing haters, horror stories have those things too.
As horror fans (and I know that’s who I’m mostly talking to), we’ve all had that moment (or those moments) when we profess our love for the genre and you get that reaction, eyes sort of creasing, mouth thinning into a line, their entire body shifting back from you. A literal visceral reaction to the word horror. And the immediate response of “I hate scary things,” “I can’t read those books,” or “why do you like that?”
I am 100 percent for everyone doing their own thing, liking what they like (and who they like for that matter!) but I do wish people would give horror more of a chance. Horror is so much more than that first impression, and while it is making a waves recently due to crazy amazing hits on screens big and small like Stranger Things, It, Get Out, and real-life happenings like our current (and seemingly always escalating and never-ending) political situation, the craze for true crime, and so on, there is still a lot of ground to cover.
So why horror fiction?
Well, I guess that brings me around to the point. Why horror fiction? Writers like Paul Tremblay is why.
On the face of it, The Cabin at the End of the World has a simple set up. A little girl and her two dads taking a vacation at a secluded cabin by a lake. Four strangers converge on the family and they want something—and it’s not good.
But it’s also not what you expect. This isn’t The Strangers. This is bigger than that. Or is it?
This book is a white-knuckle one-sitting type of read. Though told in third person, it switches perspectives between the characters, giving the reader brief insights into each of their psyches and feelings. I really liked this technique; it felt cinematic to me, but in a three-dimensional kind of way because it was like I was really seeing the story through each of their eyes in turn, feeling the emotional pulses of the story, rather than just being an outside observer.
This is my third Tremblay book (I’ve read A Head Full of Ghosts and Disappearance at Devil’s Rock too) and I’m noticing a trend of his. He loves the fantastic, that suspension of the story between reality and the supernatural. He’s always holding the reader on a string throughout his books making us wonder what exactly is going on. Is there a rational explanation—can we keep our feet firmly on the ground? Or, is something supernatural at play and we’ve left the known world behind, we’re untethered, an astronaut floating through the dark stillness of space alone with only his own breath—and the monsters. Tremblay pulls us back and forth along the string of the fantastic, leaving us to wallow in that moment of hesitation, that catch of breath between the known and unknown.
And what a delicious place to live.
Cabin is also taking on underpinning themes of the current state of the world and our society today. Though perhaps not in your face, I think these themes of environmental and also social downfall are definitely an important part of this book. And it brings me back to my original point about why horror.
Horror shows us a way through the darkness.
It shows us characters in situations that we (hopefully) never have to deal with, but reading about how others struggle—whether they win, lose, live, die, become a zombie, stake a serial killer, or just deal with the darkness within—helps us negotiate our own struggles and process our traumas in our daily life and those in the world at large too. Horror is cathartic and all the many different strands of it are worth investigating.
I am hesitant to say this is Tremblay’s best because I know there’s more coming. And we’re ready to read it when it gets here.
My thanks to Mindi (Instagram: @gowsy33 Goodreads: Mindi Snyder), who is a horror reader and reviewer extraordinaire for sending me her extra copy of this book!
Reading this book reminded me why I love Instagram and the book community that exists there there. Without those amazing readers and people, I don't think I ever would have known about this book, and what a shame that would have been.
This book has been quietly making the rounds on social media since its Halloween release last year, growing little by little by word of mouth, but it isn't a huge title from some publishing titan. It doesn't have some big backing, but it does have its own merit and the people who have read it, telling you, "you need to pick up this book."
A perfect premise: four renowned horror authors spending Halloween in a supposedly haunted house with a rich media mogul who wants them to share their literary knowledge with the world.
But what begins as a heavy-handed publicity stunt follows each of them home in a different way, forcing dark fingers into the crevices of each of their lives. What exactly is it about the house on Kill Creek? What's living there? Dead or alive? And what does it want with the writers?
Thomas has a raw talent and this book pulses with true life. I leaned in to this book as I haven't with a newer book for quite some time, really getting invested in the story, the characters, and the house.
I love a haunted house story; it is probably my favorite type of horror tale. Kill Creek is not only an interesting, involved, scary, and unique story, it completely reinvents the concept.
From the start, it is apparent that the author knows his stuff about horror. I felt safe in the hands of someone who had his main character rattling off about The Mysteries of Udolpho, Freddy Krueger, and Polanski's The Tenant within the first few pages of the book.
And not only that, but the prologue to the book is an obvious homage to Shirley Jackson's most perfect haunted house book, The Haunting of Hill House. Almost beat for beat, he reconstructs his house on Kill Creek the same way she brought together Hill House, how it seemed to create itself "flying together into its own powerful pattern."
And that's the way this book felt—formed so tightly that it nearly flew together of its own volition—a story that had to be told.
As far as the plot goes, I loved the four writers and how they echoed real writers (or at least bits of them). Daniel Slaughter with his Christian-leaning Goosebumps-type series, Sebastian Cole with his Stephen King–like influence, T. C. Moore with her Jack Ketchum–level grossness and Clive Barker weirdness, and Sam McGarver (the main character), who seemed to be more of an amalgam or middle man, perhaps influenced by the Southern gothic William Gay, but more mainstream. (Any ideas?)
In any case, I loved seeing them interact, come together, and even just hearing about their books. I'd read one of each, especially that Cole book A Thinly Cast Shadow that everyone seems so keen on. Perhaps Thomas has something up his sleeve in this direction (oh, please!!), as he obviously has lots of great horror plot ideas. I definitely don't expect this to be his last foray into the genre.
If a story can get you invested in the stories that it isn't telling, you know that's a good book. And I'm telling you, that's only the beginning.
Where this book goes is not what I expected. I figured it would be a fairly straightforward creepy haunted house, bump-in-the-night type of read. Not true at all. This plot has much more to offer, ideas that will expand how you think about hauntings, old places, and maybe even your own home.
I can only tell you to go out and get this book. Have your local bookstore order a few extra copies. If you like it, pass on the love to someone else. This one deserves to be read.
Boy do I love a good slasher. A movie with a masked guy running around knocking off teens—does it get any better than that? And, what is it about this trope that so has so captured our imagination? The blood and guts and gore, yes, but there is something about that darkened figure, silhouetted in the moonlight voyeuristically watching frolicking teens in the woods, or their neighborhood, or any other environ, his grip tightening around some instrument of death. There is something that draws us in.
It is obvious from that start that Roubique is a fan of the '80s slasher trope. I'm sure he's seen all the flicks, knows all the cliches that we love (and love to hate), and boy does he nail the cover of this book, which he created himself—am I right??
He takes on that very visual medium in book form, something that I really haven't seen that much of. There are a few: Stephen Graham Jones has taken on the genre, perhaps American Psycho counts, though it's more of a social satire, and I can think of a few others, but none that are so steeped in the '80s slasher tradition, that truly golden era, as this one. (And please do direct me to slasher books if you know of them. But before you mention it, no, Final Girls doesn't count—that is a thriller, not a horror novel, and it isn't a very good one at that).
The story has a good setup: bored, older kids at camp go on a rafting adventure and wind up at a water park that seems deserted—but someone is there, watching them, stalking them. Our heroine is a quiet, Walkman-loving girl who has a hard time making friends, but thinks she might have found a few, finally. And so the blood bath begins!
Though I have a few questions about the functionality of water parks—is it really plausible that they hook up to creeks or streams and use that water instead of a more controlled water source? And later, (SPOILER AHEAD, so skip to the next paragraph if you haven't read it) they seem to be extremely trapped in this place, but I wonder why the fences are electric in the first place—that seems dangerous. Public places like water parks shouldn't, and I'm pretty sure they don't, have electric fences. Also, they never goo looking for the entrance/exit, which seems like a no-brainer to me.
But, those kinds of inconsistencies perhaps can be overlooked as plot convenience, which is par for the course in slasher films.
Slightly more egregious is the disregard for consistency with the films and songs used in the book. Though the author does acknowledge one of these in the afterword, that was not the only instance. And I feel like if the music was going to be so integral to the plot, it should have been consistent with the real-life pieces of the book matching the setting of the book. Perhaps a bit nit-picky, but still true.
I can say that I didn't know where the plot for this book was going. I knew there would be blood, but I didn't know who or when or exactly what was going on. The book definitely hit the beats of a slasher film and that was a lot of fun to read and envision.
The writing felt amateurish and underdeveloped to me, which had the effect of pulling me out of the plot. For example, the book is written in third person with multiple POVs, but I found it difficult to follow the thread between who was thinking what sometimes, as it switches back and forth with little warning and with little indication of which character is in focus. This needed to be smoothed out throughout the book.
I have to admit that this is a fun and enjoyable pulpy little read, but in the end, it doesn't feel like a finished book to me. It needs a round of edits to help breathe a little life into it, round out the characters (especially their dialogue and the transitions between each of their thoughts), and to correct basic errors. (I have a hard time ignoring basic copy editing errors in books. So sloppy.)
My thanks to the author for generously supplying the Nightworms with copies of this one to read!
Rain is a recovering addict trying to forget her past and get her life back on track. She goes to NA meetings, has a small ragtag group of friends, and even has a job interview lined up. Despite her crappy apartment in a bad part of Brooklyn, her life isn’t looking so bad—that is until she looks through a pair of glasses she borrows from a woman on the subway and sees something . . . strange.
Things just get weirder from there and Rain doesn’t know who to turn to—her NA friends will think she’s using and she has burned all the other bridges in her life. What is she seeing? What is real and what is just shadows of her past?
While this book has a lot of interesting ideas, for me it was just too all over the place. Talk about double mumbo jumbo: there are supernatural evil beings, an alternate/dream reality, some weird stuff with time, ghosts, The author was trying to pack too many different threads into one book and I think it would have been a much more successful novel if he had really focused in on one or two elements.
There is a supernatural evil that is following Rain and she discovers (so slooowwwly) that its strength lies in her weakness, and it is connected to the son she gave up before she became a junkie. When I realized that the plot was centered around her specific past, it really started to lose steam for me. The whole “kids in peril” plotline is overused in horror (in my opinion) and it is fairly obvious when a kid is not really in peril.
I also was confused by the main villain of the novel, Doctor Nine—I didn’t fully understand his purpose. What was he trying to accomplish, exactly? And that name is never explained either. Not saying that is necessary, but maybe it would have helped. . . His evil plot never felt spelled out for me and I didn’t fully see the point of everything he and his assistant are trying to do.
And that is only the beginning of the proliferating threads—many of the characters are connected in multiple ways to each other and to other plots that I found unnecessary and unlikely. The detective probably could have had his own book, or at least a spinoff novella, but I didn’t think his whole story was crucial to the plot of this book and I felt that it the way it was slowly spun out slowed down the main thrust of the narrative.
I really got lost in all the different ideas, themes, and plot threads presented in the narrative. There is a dream world that several of the characters discuss—visiting certain places and meeting specific people (most of whom the reader never meets), but we only see brief scenes of this place and much of the setup surrounding it felt superfluous and I was underwhelmed by the reality of it when we actually arrived.
The ending was definitely a letdown as I felt that the action of the climax was all a bit more metaphorical than anything else. Time is a tricky thing to mess with and doesn’t always end up satisfying.
I’d like to thank the publisher for sending the Nightworms copies of this book to read and review.
A trip to California, a new life and a fresh start: in the pioneer days, many took the hard path of a wagon train for the chance to strike it rich and see the vistas of the West. But in 1846, the Donner Party sets out a little too late in the season and then hits one snag after another.
Soon the bad luck piling on them seems ominous, like evil is following them or somehow attached to their group—and in the mountains, the weather is starting to turn cold. But perhaps there is more to this streak of inauspicious coincidences. Is there something in the wilderness, waiting for them?
Growing up in the West, I have definitely heard all about the Donner Party and their ill-fated journey. (When it comes to cannibals, my favorite is probably Alferd Packer, but that’s a story for another time.) And though I don’t read a lot of historical fiction, I always enjoy it—like Dan Simmons’s The Abominable. So this one seemed right up my alley.
I was so on board with the tension and the buildup of this book. Katsu brilliantly weaves subtle prickles of horror, letting the reader see just enough down the trail to realize that nothing good can come from venturing onward, but never quite revealing the full extent of the horror.
I thought that Katsu did a great job with writing from the perspectives of all the characters, but I felt that by the end of the book, a few of the ones I was more interested in had faded into the background. Perhaps there were too many voices in the book.
For me, the flashbacks at the end of each section could have been a little more explanatory, especially toward the end, in explaining exactly what was going on. The information that they revealed was mostly information that I had picked up from the characters as subtext. It didn’t really need further explanation.
I expected the end of the book to have more action, to be a real culmination of all the terror, hardship, and suffering that they went through. I didn’t feel that the ending of the book paid off based on how the tension was built—I kept waiting for the true horror to drop and I felt that the book never really went there.
Overall, I really enjoyed reading this one and would recommend it to anyone interested in slowburn novels or historical fiction. Even if horror is not really your thing, this book skirts the line, and has elements of romance, adventure, and history that a lot of people would enjoy.
The Nightworms would like to thank Glasstown Ent., Putnam, and the author for sending us all copies of this book to review.
Will is your average fifteen-year-old boy: he likes hanging out with his friends, thinking about girls, playing baseball, keeping away from bullies, taking care of his little sister—oh, and coming head to head with a sadistic serial killer. You know, average coming-of-age stuff. Add to that the weird things people keep seeing in the woods and this might just be the strangest (and worst) year of Will's life.
I had no idea what to expect going into this book, but I was immediately drawn to the characters—their witty banter and strong personalities gave me a bit of a Summer of Night or The Body vibe (and I am definitely not the first person to make those comparisons).
Jonathan Janz builds likable and realistic characters with believable dialogue—something that is no small feat. He really has a knack for voice and I loved the relationship between the three friends Will, Chris, and Barley. Janz has a great talent for dialogue and I'd love to read more of his books based on that alone.
The story is built in such a way that it is easy to read and compels you to keep reading—I got through it in one sitting! So carve out some time for this sucker because you're going to want to see where it goes.
There was some double mumbo jumbo going on in this book—a term I stole from Blake Snyder and think is pretty legit: we can only ask people to believe in one "magical" thing for any story. So it is pushing it to say there is a crazy escaped serial murderer who is basically on the level of Mike Myers and also something supernaturally evil potentially roaming around in the woods.
While I was skeptical at first, and it does falter a bit for me, losing parts of one thread (which, without trying to spoil anything, I thought was going to be the main point of the book) to focus on the other, all the insanity plays out pretty well and definitely held my interest throughout the book. There are surprises, twists, and plenty of action and bloodshed.
Overall, I really enjoyed this tale and Janz's strong writing held me throughout a few of the moments that might have lost me in another book. The good news is, there are plenty of other books to read by J. Janz! I will be seeking out some of his other work. (Also, I heard a rumor that there might be a sequel in the works??)
My thanks to Jonathan Janz, Sinister Grin, and Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi for gifting copies of this book to all the Night Worms to read and review!
I didn’t know what I was getting into when I started reading this book!
Malerman—always inventive—has come up with a creepy, compelling, and genuinely unique tale of betrayal, adventure, and death.
Carol has died many times—but in truth she doesn’t really die, she just has a strange condition where she falls into a coma due to stressful conditions and appears to be dead for several days. She keeps her condition a secret except for a few people she is close to, but what happens when one of the people she trusts wants her dead?
We all learned to love Malerman when he blew our minds with Bird Box—still one of the most truly scary and original horror novels I’ve ever read. He has a very specific, visceral style of writing that draws in the reader so they can’t look away. I was not as big of a fan of Black Mad Wheel, but he is such an interesting voice, I am always excited to see he has a new book coming out.
And this unique voice isn’t lost in his newest novel. The book is styled as a Western and feels very much like it is set in a different time and place from the way the characters speak and interact with the world around them, to the structure of story itself.
The reader switches between a few different characters, seeing all the sides of the story almost like a movie. We see Carol’s perspective—the creepiest and my favorite—as she describes what she can see and hear from her coma and what might be lurking with her in that tenuous spot between life and death. We see Carol’s husband, Dwight, who has a scheme all his own. We see Carol’s old flame, James Moxie, who became an infamous outlaw and now is the only other person who knows her secret. We see another trailrider, the villainous and insane Smoke, who hunts Moxie, and is out to cause whatever chaos he can.
The book threw me a bit when I first started it because the voice is fairly stylistic, but once I got a handle on the lilt of the dialogue and turn of phrase, I really got into it. There are no slow points in this story since it is constantly throwing the reader back and forth between the minds of all the characters and their specific goals, whether their intentions be nefarious or righteous.
Though the style is definitely different, you can’t argue with a great plot! I loved the first chapter set at the funeral and the way all the characters were introduced. I loved the way they fit into Western stock characters (retired outlaw, damsel in distress) but as the book progressed, busted through those stereotypes too.
I would have loved to see more of Howltown (what Carol calls the place where she goes when she is in a coma) and more of her perspective. The book is a little low on women’s perspectives and Carol, her maid Farrah, and her mom, Hattie, were all such great characters. The latter two felt especially underused to me.
Overall, I loved the blended genre that Malerman created and was really impressed that this book came from the same guy who wrote his last two books—he is constantly reinventing his own writing and for that versatility alone it is worth seeking his books out.
I read this book as a part of the Night Worms conglomerate and I’d like to thank Del Rey for sending us all review copies of the book!
If you are into cults—and you are, because what red-blooded human isn’t fascinated or at least intrigued by them—this is the cult novel you’ve been looking for.
Mason Hues is anonymous. He lives in a bare studio apartment, his mattress on the floor.
But before he was Mason, he was John Doe, and before that, he was Thirty-Seven, a member of the Survivors, a cult hidden in the mountains of Colorado where he willingly took chemotherapy drugs to make himself sick because sickness bears honesty and honesty bears change, and the change that the Survivors enacted came to shock the nation.
But now he’s Mason. And even though he’s had therapy, the teachings from his time with the Survivors are still coursing through his mind, through his veins. Maybe there’s something to the Truth he was learning. Maybe he can start over, find it again.
This book—what a wake-up call! It is such a gift when you read something that really sings, that is so unique and vivid that you can’t put it down but you want to savor every second. Not many books fit that bill.
This is not a traditional horror novel, but Stenson is not a traditional writer. He does his own thing and he innovates in a way that is not only new, but courageous—and he is not afraid to get dark. His writing digs in deep to your bone—you can feel the needle biting into your skin, the poison filling your veins. The characters aren’t stagnant; they live and breathe on the page.
Though the book is dark—and stays dark—there is a musicality to the language, a lulling repetition to the style that obviously has a lot of thought put into it. It is really a beautifully crafted book hiding in the skin of something deadly. It creates an atmosphere where every time you open the pages you are in Mason’s head, in his thoughts, seeing his vision of honesty and sickness—and almost believing in it.
Similar to his previous book Fiend, this book paints a raw, honest, and chilling picture of addiction and its consequences, though while Fiend focused on a group of junkies who survived the zombie apocalypse because of their drug habit, the addiction in Thirty-Seven (while still drug-fueled) is more insidious—an addiction of the mind.
Stenson has a knack for creating characters who are on the verge: they make bad decisions, they don’t appear to be good or likable people, but somehow when you are in their mind, you can see how they got to where they are and their choices make sense. I found myself sympathetic to Mason throughout the book, though I wasn’t sure if I should be.
I definitely haven’t read anything like this in the genre, or even at all. This book may be a bit unclassifiable—it slants toward the horror aesthetic, but why put it in a box? I want to put this one in everyone’s hands—start a little Survivors cult of my own, if you’d like to think of it that way.
I recommend this. Read it. Reading bears knowledge and knowledge bears power. Therefore reading bears power. You can’t go wrong, really.
Check out the publisher, Dzanc Books
Man, there just isn't anyone writing novellas anymore, is there?
Longer than a short story, but shorter than a novel, these interesting specimens seem to get short shrift (no pun intended), at least in the publishing world. Maybe people are writing them by the boatload, but they just aren't a salable format.
Well, I am here to say, the novella is not dead—at least not the way Ahlborn is writing them.
These pieces, both around 150 to 200 pages, pack a killer punch, immersing the reader fully in the world of the main characters without all the messy and entangling structural work that a novel entails. Get right down in the dirt and make some mud, I say. Story, character, chaos—let the fun begin.
And boy, does she.
THE PRETTY ONES
This is a period piece set in New York City, 1977, during the reign of the Son of Sam, a real-life notorious serial killer who went around shooting people, mostly brown-haired women—when they caught him, he said his neighbor's dog told him to do it, no joke, look it up. Anyway, in this story, before he was caught, Nell is a stuffy sort of girl, not very stylish, held back by her brother's strict beliefs about the way girls should look and act, but Nell desperately wants to fit in and make a friend. When she decides to make a change, that's when it all goes wrong.
Of the two, this was my favorite. Don't get me wrong—they are both great—but I am such a sucker for a good period piece. I loved all the little details that made this feel like it was true to NYC of the late 70s, especially for a murderino like me, who happens to know a lot about Son of Sam. A serial killer backdrop for a story is beyond perfect; you know I'm on board from the beginning.
Nell is great character, all her motivations are laid bare on the table for the reader. She holds nothing back; it's like reading her constant mind diary. I enjoyed reading her after the introduction where the author discussed her aspirations of becoming a psychologist that eventually turned into writing instead. I was reading all the characters through this profiling lens and it was interesting to get inside Nell's (and possibly the author's?) head a little bit.
I CALL UPON THEE
Maggie got out of her family's crazy house where so much seemed to go wrong, but now when tragedy strikes, she's forced to return home and confront the shadows of her past and possibly the ones in her closet.
I wasn't surprised to read in the author's note that this story had some autobiographical bits in it—or perhaps I was just self-projecting since there were pieces that so mirrored my own experience in my middle school years. Ah well, perhaps it's a story for another day.
In any case, on the surface, this story has a lot of familiar elements (I am being vague here, but I honestly don't want to ruin it for you; the author goes to a lot of trouble to set up this story and I'm not going to be the one to just kick out that careful scaffolding) but what is unsettling is how she takes the familiar and dumps it on its head, putting the reader in unfamiliar territory—the unheimlich, if you like to get Freudian.
All in all, it is a story that is more intricate than it first appears. It has multiple time periods at work, and a lot of the revelations come late in the game, all stacked up on one another. It is a cathartic kind of read, one that would do well if you have a dark and stormy night to cozy up in bed with. Just hope the lights don't go out.
I of course, can't wait to see what's next from Ahlborn. There are not that many women writing horror and doing it well like she is. I love that, it is not only amazing to read, but highly inspiring. I would especially be interested in a short story collection. I have long held the belief that a writer who is a master of short form truly understands how to write—once you have to strip away all the fluff and are only left with the bare bones and stringiest meat of the story, you see what chops a writer really has. If these novellas are any indication, I'd say she has quite a collection of stories to share. And we'd be happy to devour them, raw beating hearts and all.
Assistant editor, amateur photdographer, bibliophile, and occasional sleuth.