We the cats have decreed the Writer needs to start submitting reviews again now that the dangerous “cor-en-tine” thing has been lifted. When would be a better time to write about spooky, scary stories than during the month of October?
Starting on the 15th, we’re going to be posting one review a day to count down to our favorite holiday. Why is it our favorite? Because we get more treats!
If you have a book, story, or even a movie you want to see reviewed, feel free to comment below. Otherwise, you will have to read based on our whims!
We’re excited to be back and writing. Here is Flint practicing his best “scared” face.
(The Writer says we have to tell you Flint is not being harmed in this photo. He just doesn’t like baths)
“His Facebook and Twitter pages now featured pictures of Phil grinning like an idiot in places he’d never been with his arm around a boy he hadn’t known before today.”
Hi, everyone! Zelda here! The Writer finally said it’s my turn to do a review so I stop terrifying everyone with my quarantine hyper-ness!
I’m going to start this review with a very simple statement: I hate the narrator. I’m not a fan of kids either – they’re terrifying – but the author does everything possible to make the narrator inherently unlikable from the start.
But what is this story anyway?
Sour Candy is a self-published novella written by Irish dark fiction and horror author Kealan Patrick Burke. It debuted in 2007 and centers around a man named Phil Pendleton, who suddenly finds his life turned upside down when a child appears on his doorstep and claims to be his son. Everyone around him agrees the boy is his, and all of the pictures in his home and social media have changed to happy images of the two together.
But who is this boy? And why is this book in the monster section of the reviews?
The Plot
The firmly against children Phil has been spending quality time with his girlfriend, Lori, one weekday. He is sent to the store to pick up chocolate and has his selection process disturbed by a child screaming. The kid in question is the eponymous boy, who is dragging around a woman who looks half dead.
When a police officer arrives to remove the disruption from the store, the mother grabs two handfuls of sour candy and jams them in her mouth, choking. The boy is off to the side and offers Phil a piece of candy, which he foolishly accepts.
Listen, “don’t take candy from strangers” applies to adults to.
Not even if the candy looks delicious…
When Phil leaves the store, he is in a fender bender with the woman in her faded Toyota. She stumbles out of the car and kills herself in front of him.
Things go downhill for Phil afterwards. He discovers the boy at his house and is thrust into a nightmarish Twilight Zone with everyone claiming the child is his. The photos have changed to match. There is a birth certificate and a supposed birth mother. Even the boy insists he is just a boy and that Phil is his father.
Phil slowly deteriorates. He starts to lose his hair and teeth. His life fades away. He struggles to piece together what is happening around him.
Then the monsters appear!
The boy is working for strange, horned abominations called The Elders, and the sour candy he was handing out was not food, but a seed. A seed from which more monsters could grow.
Phil kills the boy in an attempt to stop his fate, but it is too late. He is trapped by The Elders and burns alive in his home, forced to birth whatever monstrous being has been growing inside him and stealing his life force.
The story ends with the detective who had been investigating the original mother’s suicide discovering that a child was left in the backseat of his car. And everyone claims it is his.
The Review
I like treats, and this has taught me not to take treats from strangers unless I want to become the host for a strange eldritch demon.
I got to be honest: I liked this story, but I hated Phil from the beginning. I felt sympathetic towards him and his situation, but he was an unpleasant character from the first chapter and lacked some significant character development later on. He decided he did not want children long ago, and suffered a messy divorce when his wife changed her mind about having children.
He sounds like the embodiment of a certain subreddit dedicated entirely to hating on children and the people who choose to have them.
Even the novella itself seems like an advertisement for the use of birth control – who wants a loud, obnoxious, evil child in their life?
Despite disliking Phil’s overall tone, disdain of kids, and intense focus on whether or not women are attractive, I loved the premise of the story.
Who would have guessed sour candy is so sinister?
Even a single worm can doom you forever…
I give Sour Candy 3/5 Paws. It earns four paws for the premise, but loses one for the execution.
Listen. I don’t even like kids and I could not get over how obnoxious Phil was. The Writer also didn’t like him, and she doesn’t even want kids!
But to be fair, she says she’s used to something needy always demanding attention and treats and…wait. She’s looking at me with that weird look when she says that.
“We came here every year to renew the bargain. Oh, it’s not a good bargain.”
I did some field research…the sink was field enough. I dread to imagine the cold, wet onslaught of the ocean.
Listen. We all know damn well that it is a rare feline indeed who enjoys going swimming.
I’m not saying I disliked doing this review, but I should have avoided doing some field research.
Today’s horror story is called The Ocean and All Its Devices, and it is the premier short story in an anthology of the same name by William Browning Spencer. Published in 2006, this anthology takes on a distinctly Lovecraftian theme, my personal favorite. There are ancient beings which mere mortals cannot comprehend – human ones anyways; a distinct saltwater setting; and themes of madness and isolation.
But The Ocean and All Its Devices is also unique and award-winning for many reasons. I just wish The Writer hadn’t asked the Good Doctor to get me in the “mood” for reviewing something watery.
The Plot
This story is told from the perspective of one George Hume, a man who runs a seaside hotel with his wife. Every year for an unspecified period of time, the same somber family, the Franklins, make a reservation for the off-season.
Every time the Franklins appear, they are dressed like they are going to a funeral. They spend their days wandering their desolate beach in formal dress – a mother, father, and daughter trio.
This year, the Humes hear devastating news: Mr. Franklin has drowned. Mrs. Franklin is in shock and spends her time at a mental hospital for treatment, while the daughter is left in the care of the Humes, their college-aged daughter, and her boyfriend.
The girl, who is roughly 12, wears full formal dress at all times and has strange habits. She insists her father is not dead, and that those around her don’t understand the “real” things about the world. Plus, water seems to be attracted to her.
Over the next few days, disaster strikes again and again. The college boyfriend is decapitated by a wave trying to stop the girl from drowning, and the Humes are on the verge of madness trying to figure out where all of the seaweed and strange behavior in the hotel is coming from.
In the end, it turns out the daughter has been dead all along. She drowned when she was 3 and her parents made a deal with strange machines/gods underneath the ocean to bring her back.
Unfortunately, she is not the same, for she no longer only belonged to the human world.
At the end, she returns to the deep, her body exposed to be distinctly fish-like indeed.
That is one bowl of tuna I would not touch with a 10 ft. pole.
There’s something fishy going on here…
The Review
If there is one thing The Ocean and All Its Devices impressed upon me, it is the importance of mystery. Mystery can generate intrigue, interest, suspicion, and ultimately horror.
For George, there are many layers of mystery which need to be unraveled. Why do the Franklins consistently visit during the off-season, despite having first vacationed in the summer almost a decade ago? Why is his daughter so fiercely protective of the Franklin girl? Just what is wrong with the Franklin girl?
With several pages of build-up, the entire story reaches a satisfying conclusion in the span of a page and a half without revealing everything. Instead, it gives enough to wrap up the writing without finishing it with a gaudy bow.
William Browning Spencer earned his reputation as a powerful and influential writer, and The Ocean and All of Its Devices is a great example of my favorite style of writing – the Climate Change Iceberg.
I’m coining terms now.
In the original iceberg theory, roughly 10% of the story is revealed, with the reader left to draw many of their own conclusions. In a more modern take on the iceberg theory, around 40%-50% is given to the reader. It’s enough to generate a satisfying conclusion without leaving casual indulgers confused.
The writing itself is additionally tight. Because The Ocean and All Its Devices is a longer short story, there is room to develop the characters, especially George Hume. He is caring but disinterested. Disturbed by his surroundings, but wanting it all to go away. A loving father and husband, but also old-fashioned and the provider of strange commentary on the female characters.
I.E. “The girl walked and gestured with a liquid motion that was oddly sophisticated, suggesting the calculated body language of an older and sexually self-assured woman.”
This comment was about a 12 year old whose father just died and who is visiting a child psychiatrist.
But such comments reveal a lot about the narrator himself and how he views the world.
Overall, this story gave me much to consider and was entertaining and horrific in a skin-crawling, “the universe is out to get us” kind of way – my personal favorite. It earns 5/5 Paws.
Has it left me considering things which are best not considered? Shall I be scared I have seen things which should not be seen?
Christine by Stephen King is one of the most quintessential horror novels, and one of the first the Writer ever read. I, personally, don’t understand the appeal of cars. Every time I am in one, I end up at the vet.
I am better than any car.
But when she saw that copy at the discount bookstore, she just had to get it. Kind of like how some poor teen named Arnie just had to have a 1958 Plymouth Fury named Christine.
“Come on, big guy. Let’s go for a ride. Let’s cruise.”
Originally published in 1983, Christine examines just how deep a boy’s love for his first car truly is, and how deep an old man’s hate can be.
We the cats had to have a conference to determine just what genre the book could be considered. On the one paw, there is the supernatural element of Christine herself, a car capable of infiltrating a boy’s brain and taking over his life.
On the other paw, there is a distinct eldritch note to the book. The car is a living, breathing entity capable of warping reality. When some bullies break the lights and front bumper, all Christine needs is a little blood and time to right herself.
On another paw, there is a disturbingly human antagonist in the form of the late Roland LeBay. Although he dies early in the book, he sold the car to Arnie and his soul is potentially responsible for everything that happens.
In the end, LeBay won out. He may be a ghost, but it is his uniquely human characteristics of violent rage and obsession which color the book.
The Plot
This story is narrated by Dennis Guilder, the best friend of one Arnie Cunningham. During the summer of 1978, the pair drive through a neighborhood and see Christine out in the yard. Immediately, Arnie’s obsession begins and he purchases the car from the elderly LeBay.
Arnie slowly restores the car at a shady garage in town, but people begin to notice the haphazard way in which the repairs occur. Sometimes half the bumper is complete. Sometimes the windshield is done. No one ever sees Arnie working, and he has started to behave differently.
He is more confident, but more aggressive. And he loves that car. Almost as much as I love my mom….
Soon, people who have wronged Arnie start dying in vehicular deaths, but there is no evidence on Christine to tie Arnie to the murders. Plus, Arnie has airtight alibis.
Soon, Dennis comes to realize his friend is no longer his friend: He is LeBay.
The Review
It might surprise some readers, but Christine was not the first story about an animate vehicle. It is, however, one of the most well-written.
This story features a lot of the signature King flair, including small town distress, emotional abuse, a dangerous obsession, and plenty of references to pop culture and music.
The plot unfolds slowly enough that the reader is allowed to piece together the ultimate twist much faster than Dennis, but this adds to the suspense.
Honestly, this is a biased review. This was one of the first horror books the Writer ever read – having borrowed her dad’s copy and read it so much she destroyed the cover and first pages of the old paperback.
It truly is an interesting examination of a poor teen’s descent into madness as his soul is slowly possessed by a bitter old man full of rage and hate. At the end, you’re left pitying Arnie more than anything, and there is a strange sense of loss once Christine is destroyed.
Like any good horror story, Christine makes you empathize with the characters, and it touches on some significant teenage themes:
Trying to break loose of a mold set by your parents
Becoming intoxicated by a new sense of freedom
Learning that friendships don’t stay the same after high school
Struggling with the reality of drifting apart
Overall, this story deserves its 5/5 Paws. And I’m not just saying that because the writer threatened to withhold my tuna if I disagreed.
You humans are strange creatures. When you can’t get something you want the right way, you have to try the wrong way.
Do you suppose hammers hurt?
In Out Behind the Barn by John Boden and Chad Lutzke, I had a chance to see just how far someone is willing to go to fill the empty void in their heart. Unfortunately, their method involved leaving voids where others’ hearts should be.
Do you love your mother? I do.
Out Behind the Barn inspires many feelings in its readers. For me, I was filled with a profound melancholy, thinking about the woman who wanted a family, with two little boys who would love her forever. I love my mother. I could never leave her.
But these boys left their mother.
Each one found themselves leaving both of their mothers.
They lost the first when Miss Maggie kidnapped and killed them so she could resurrect them as her children. They lost the second when they found their hearts and killed themselves so they could be at peace. So they could stop the buzzing in their bodies.
Out Behind the Barn is a short, simple novella with a mystery which slowly unravels as you realize the mother, Miss Maggie, is not all she seems to be. She cooks wonderful food, but the boys cannot taste it. She educates them in literature, but has books they are forbidden to read. She tries to bring them a father, but she murders to do so.
Norman Bates would be proud of her methods, or perhaps Herbert West.
She’s still not as cute as me….
For the feline fans, there is a cat in this book. An adorable kitten, in fact. And since this is a book of horror and emotional loss, the kitten is murdered by a person who came back wrong.
So, some points are added for the cat, and some might be subtracted if the Writer steps away from the scoreboard for a moment…just need to learn how to write with the pen…
There. Done. She’ll never know.
Conclusion
When it comes to novellas, Out Behind the Barn is a prime example of the medium. It utilizes writing tropes and techniques well to create an engaging, emotionally effective story. While I saw the twist coming from a mile away, it was still beautifully done.
Plus, there’s a cat! And references to Lovecraft! And Bradbury!
It’s an engaging read for a cozy afternoon if you would like to be emotionally devastated rather than horrified.
“And I twisted myself around like the twisted ones…”
So majestic, yet so evil.
There is something to be said for stories which have relatable narrators. In The Twisted Ones, I was treated to the inner musings of an editor named Melissa, nicknamed Mouse. Besides needing to resist the temptation to make puns about the cat and mouse action going on in the story (because, haha, I’m a cat), I was able to identify with Mouse.
For you see, I too happen to love a dumb dog and have a habit of slipping on the linoleum.
But we’ll get there.
The Twisted Ones is T. Kingfisher’s take on The White People (not actually a race-related title) by Arthur Machen. For those of you who haven’t reach Machen’s short story, it features a group of youths talking with a hermit named Ambrose about The Green Book, the journal of a young woman who became involved in the ways of the Fair Folk.
One of the ways in which The Twisted Ones stands out is how it manages to pay homage to another tale without drowning in the source material. There are tons of clever nods to the original short story, but they do not overpower the new tale.
So what is this new story?
In short, Mouse is recruited by her elderly father to clean out her even more ancient and recently deceased grandmother’s house. The grandma was the human equivalent of a neutering, and did lovely things like call people up to tell them they deserved to have their dog die, gaslight her elderly husband by hiding his beloved possessions, and keep the same husband from sleeping to the point where he was forced to nap in the woods.
Even the villains preferred to sleep in the woods to get away from Mouse’s grandmother….
She was also a horrific hoarder and so unpleasant that even the supernatural ‘villains’ of the story refused to come near her.
And that is where the plot kicks off. You see, Mouse’s grandmother was married to her step-grandfather, an elderly individual who just happened to have some of the blood of the eponymous White People in his family background. When Mouse arrives, she soon discovers all of the creepy going-ons around the house are caused by a secret town of hundreds of effigies created by the White People to serve them.
Only there are no more White People, and they are desperate for new masters.
I have seen more than my fair share of eldritch, cosmic, and downright alien horror, and there are some distinct Lovecraftian tropes at play. There should be, seeing as how Lovecraft himself described the original story, The White People, as being one of the greatest literary works of horror of all time.
To count off a couple of Lovecraftian staples:
There are Eldritch Abominations
Half-Human Hybrids
Madness Mantras
The Fair Folk
And definitely a Fate Worse Than Death
Like, seriously.
The poor Writer would like to know why so many horror stories involve forced impregnation by monsters?
There’s also an evil deer…thing…and a room full of creepy dolls.
A doll whose eyes I would scratch out if I could…
Now, anyone with common sense would have fled once weird things started to happen, but the standard evil-detecting dog is an absolute moron, but lovably so.
Bongo, named after the antelope and not the drum, sometimes knows what is going on but usually doesn’t. This allows Mouse to struggle on her own using the journal her step-grandfather left behind to figure out what is going on.
Conclusion
Overall, a thoroughly enjoyable take on an older tale and many quasi-mythological European themes. I would say it could have used more cats, but I prefer my solitude.
I would give this story 5/5 Paws for fun, creativity, and the ability to nest a story within even more stories.
I wasn’t left questioning the futility of my existence against the grandeur of the cosmos or abandoned to weep in the corner as I went mad from eldritch revelations.
But I did get to watch the Writer visibly cringe and recoil from learning the fate of Anna (seriously, how do you need feel bad for her?), and I now am more suspicious about the deer lurking outside.
Cats are the true experts of horror, for who else could remain calm in the face of the eldritch and unnatural?
– The Writer
Geralt
Some say I love my mother too much, but I say I have the right amount of love. A true cornucopia of affection. My emotional state is that of Norman Bates, filled with nothing but a healthy respect and admiration for my favorite human, The Writer.
My qualifications as a reviewer are beyond compare. I have studied people extensively for the past eight years and possess an intricate knowledge of their behaviors and mannerisms. The unique psychology possessed by you bipedal beasts is a keen interest of mine. As such, my favorite stories are those concerned with people and the human mind.
Also, I’m not as dumb as some of the humans say. Yes, I have a bad habit of eating fake flowers, vomiting, and then crying until I am consoled. But doesn’t everyone have their thing?
Some say my favor can be bought with snuggles. It is true I insist on being cuddled during my entire review, but pats and head boops will not sway my opinion.
Zelda
I like to adventure and do things and go outside and chase the ball and scratch the furniture and annoy big brother Geralt and meow and meow and meow until someone notices me and –
Sorry, let me try again. The humans are giving me weird looks.
My favorite stories are adventures where there is plenty of action and exhilaration. I’m not a fan of the slow build and want to get to the fun as soon as possible. I’m also easily startled and get freaked out by sudden surprises. It adds to the excitement!
My favorite human is the Cat Daddy. He raised me and loved me long before The Writer showed up, so I tell him my reviews and he passes them on. If it sounds like I just keep rambling and rambling and rambling, I swear it’s not my fault!
Blame the game of telephone between the humans.
Now, do you have my ball? Wanna play? WANNA PLAY?!
Flint
I have seen things.
Horrible things.
The twisting, eldritch, squamous things which live beyond the stars and play with our galaxy like a pigeon plays with a chess set: Poorly.
Some days my nip is the only thing keeping me from going insane.
My favorite human, the Good Doctor, says I’m a brat, but she’s a liar. I’m just accustomed to being the only cat and everyone else needs to get out of my way. Yes, my nose belongs in the human’s glass of soda. Yes, my butt belongs in the human’s face. Yes, all of the knitting is mine.
I like to review stories of the ancient creatures of the universe while my human serves me kibble, freshens my water, and calls me a good boy. It helps me avoid thinking about the unfathomable end of our world and the futility of existence.
We felines are the greatest reviewers of fiction because we have a better understanding of the universe. After all, do you have long conversations with the shadow people in your living room? We do. And we communicate entirely in blinks and stares.
How do the reviews work?
We have established a couple of basic guidelines and questions we ask ourselves when evaluating any work of fiction.
Is it unique?
Is it creative?
Do we find the characters engaging?
Is there a twist?
Can we see the plot coming from a mile away?
Was the work inspired by another?
What is the writing style?
The Writer says we aren’t allowed to call ourselves experts because cats can’t go to college and get literary degrees, but who needs a degree when you want to know if the story is engaging or not?
We review with a basic system: 1-5 Paws.
Yes, 5 paws. Doesn’t everyone have an extra one?
We also award bonus points depending on our personal interests. For example, Geralt enjoys when the villain is a human, while Zelda prefers a thrilling monster. Flint has a tendency to award points for tentacles.
Finally, we are concerned about the proper representation of cats in the media. Bonus points are given to any story which features a cat, but we might subtract a couple if we feel the feline was unfairly maligned by prejudice and…
…The Writer is shaking her head at us.
This is a feline-driven blog and we will review how we want! We might add a couple of points if we are happy with the animal representation in the story, and we will subtract in the case of gratuitous violence towards animals…
…She’s staring at us again.
We will settle this later. When she goes to sleep, we will steal all of her hair ties and drop them in the water bowl. She will remember who is in charge.
For now, just know the following rules:
We base on merit, not name
Our system is 1-5 Paws
We will choose a reviewer who best suits each story because not everyone enjoys the same subjects
Head boops are appreciated but will not affect the outcome
Feline Fright Fest 