Val Muller

The premise of this novel intrigued me, which is why I agreed to review it in exchange for a review e-copy.

In this novel, Nathan, an employee of a mental institution, spends most of his time pining for the love of Leyna, a coworker. Through the first half of the novel, he spends a lot of time thinking about her and discussing her with his best friend and his mother, who is a non-responsive patient (on life support) at a local hospital. I found myself skimming or speed-reading through sections in this first half, as much of it is filled with Nathan’s thoughts. There was much more “telling” than I prefer and lengthy sentences that over-explain Nathan’s motivations—without the explanations, the reader would still have come to the same conclusions: Nathan is obsessed with this girl but will not do a thing about it. At times, I felt that things were being drilled into my head when one or two subtle clues would have sufficed. As a reader, I felt frustrated during the first half of the book, which I think was the point. (Here’s where my English teacher hat goes on.) I think the reader was supposed to feel like Nathan—sitting on top of bottled-up feelings for a girl he can’t muster the courage to talk to. I think we’ve all been in a similar situation at some point in our lives and thus can relate to Nathan. Still, he came off as somewhat whiney.

I would have preferred more “showing” rather than “telling.”

(Some spoiler follows. If you’re okay with this, then continue scrolling down!)

I should also mention that while Nathan is moping around and wishing he could “get the girl,” there are allusions to an infection that has been taking over the world, making people act like mental patients. A man who soils himself on an elevator. A doctor who slams his head into the pavement as a way of committing suicide. It’s foreshadowed that these things will become an epidemic soon, but Nathan has been too busy being “emo” to put together the clues. Understandable, I suppose, but frustrating. I would much rather read about creepy stuff people are doing than hear more about how Nathan’s life is miserable.

When Nathan finally does “make the move,” we’re thrown into a somewhat graphic sex scene, which is fine except that it came out of nowhere in relation to all the thinking and pining that had been happening (or not happening) previously. From a literary analysis perspective, I suppose the vividness of the scene represents Nathan’s feelings—his grim feelings had been moping around for half the novel, and then suddenly, like fireworks, his life feels complete.

But his happiness is short lived, as Leyna soon becomes infected. While the first half of the novel spent ample time describing all the nuances of Nathan’s feelings, the second half of the book left me craving detail. Before Leyna’s infection gets too bad, the two move into the same room together in the mental institution (where they decide to stay, as it has ample supplies to help them survive the breakdown of civilization caused by the increasing number of infections). While Nathan spends time staring at her or holding her while she falls asleep, there isn’t much description. I want to be shown how strong their relationship is. I want to see the tremble in her lips or the way her eye twitches when she’s scared. I wished more of the word count used in the first half could have been applied to the second.

In the end, Nathan decides to try to save her, though there is no known cure for the infection. He finds supplies and gasoline to run the asylum’s generator, locking her in her room so she can’t hurt herself while he goes for help. Though I was 95% of the way through the book, I couldn’t help but feel just a bit detached from the characters, and only because I had been “told” the way they feel for the whole novel, rather than being “shown” how they feel and letting me come to the conclusion on my own that they are deeply in love, despite the infection. I felt sorry for Nathan’s situation, but not for Nathan himself. And not really caring about a protagonist is a problem for me.

It was not a bad novel, but it wasn’t the most compelling I’ve read. The author certainly has talent, though, and I would read other books by him. Perhaps just a bit more polish, less repetition, and more “showing.”

As much as I like horror, I’ve never read King’s The Dark Tower series, so I thought it was time to start. The series begins with The Gunslinger, a book that takes place in a nightmarish-post-apocalypticish-wild-Westish setting in which a gunslinger named Roland is following a mysterious figure known only as the man in black—with passing references to a dark tower. At first I was irked by being thrown into the tale without a full understanding of what was happening. It slowed my interest initially, as I had to piece together bits from the present as well as Roland’s recollections of his past. But as the tale progressed, I came to enjoy discovering the elements of Roland’s world, and when the book ended, I ran to my keyboard to order Book Two.

What I enjoyed most was the balance between mystery and fatalism. It seems that characters know—if only subconsciously—what is to come and what has come before. Along his journey, Roland encounters (among other things) a boy named Jake. He and Jake travel together, though they both sense that Jake will end up being sacrificed in the end. There is also the suggestion that the man in black, while somewhat elusive, is making sure Roland catches him. Jake makes references to things he doesn’t quite understand, things like movies and subways from a time before the world moved on (and this, despite the fact that he also makes references to having already died in such a world).

The last chapter makes up for any confusing scenes in the beginning, insight coming like fireworks even as more mystery develops. I won’t give away much—only to say that the dark tower sought by the gunslinger is the crux of it all, and it’s something he doesn’t find in Book One. The ending definitely leaves the reading longing for the next book in the series (so watch this space for an upcoming review!).

Finally, as an English teacher and writer, I enjoyed King’s Afterward, in which he reveals some of the history behind his writing of the novel, including the fact that he was inspired by Robert Browning’s poem “Childe Roland,” which you can read here.

In celebration of Halloween, my favorite holiday, I decided to dedicate the month of October to reviewing horror books and books with a spooky bent. That said, I realized one month just isn’t long enough. So I’ve extended my reviews into the month of September, too. So get ready for nine weeks of horror reviews!

Food for Crows by Aurelio Rico Lopez III

I sat down intending to read a few pages of this zombie novella while waiting for someone, and I ended up reading the whole thing in one sitting. Needless to say, it’s a compelling read. But as is the case with most zombie stories, you have to be a fan of gore, violence, and profanity. The story follows a protagonist named Paul who finds himself one of the only survivors of an unexplained zombie apocalypse. He meets a boy named Rey who insists they save his sister, Camille, who was last seen being chased by a hoard of zombies.

What I enjoyed most was the narrator’s personality. From the start, he was a sympathetic character, even with his rough edges. His tone, though angry at times, was laced with humor and wit. We learn about his past—he is/was a fan of music and instruments, and he even begins teaching Rey how to play the guitar before venturing to save his sister. These details, coupled with the impossible conditions he faces and disturbing nightmares, made me root for him the whole time.

The shortcoming of the novella is that… it’s a novella. It’s a quick read, and fans might be itching for more.

There’s just something interesting about zombie stories. Of course they’re terrifying—with the prospect of being torn apart every time we leave our homes and waking up a zombie. But there’s something thrilling about vicariously experiencing a complete breakdown of society. Watching Paul roam the deserted streets for canned food at a Seven Eleven. Viewing the wreckage of cars and stores. It’s fascinating to experience something so different from our organized and regulated world. And there’s nothing like a good zombie story to make you appreciate every little convenience in your own life.

The bottom line: for fans of zombie horror, this is a quick, engaging read that you will enjoy.