Self Promo Time—But Not Really: Reviewing Dancer, A HauntedMTL Charity Anthology

Cover Image
Courtesy of Czykmate Books

So, I’m between a rock and a hard place with this unique little anthology of horror. You see, I'm in it, and I have made a commitment to refrain from rating my own work. My contribution to this collection consists of two haikus, six total lines within 150 pages. So maaaayyybeee I can review it? Without technically rating it? The haikus are fantastic (haha jk), but seriously, the collection of short stories and poetry is worth a look. Standouts for me include:

Kevin Hollaway's graveyard crime story Unrest

Nicole Luttrell's environmental horror piece Everything Is Fine

Sci-fi horror The Hunger Between the Stars by Kody Greene

Kathy Sherwood's The Roadside Room about a dangerous one night stand

Glenn B. Dungan's weird The Bug Room about a boy and sentient bugs with cryptic lessons

Rob Swystun's touch of folk horror with Canta Hotinza, about a mysterious construction site spreading across the land

But that’s not all. Sarah Das Gupta has both poetry and short stories of merit, and the rest of the collection has the potential to resonate with readers of a variety of tastes and interests.

Better yet, the curator of this collection, Jim Phoenix, plans to give the proceeds of this book to a worthy charity, the children of Ukraine. Anthologies are a great way to get in a touch of reading when you’re too busy to commit to a full fledged novel. And this one is for a great cause! Check it out. I recommend it even if I’m technically a part of it. My part is two cents worth of the entire book, so I think I might get a pass this time. 😉

Find it here, or wherever you choose to buy your books.

The Devil Takes You Home by Gabino Iglesias — A Gritty Noir Laced with Twisty Supernatural Horrors

Cover Image courtesy of
Mulholland Books

The Devil Takes You Home, by Gabino Iglesias is an intense and dark read about a man who deals with loss by burying himself in the shady life of a hit man. It’s a well written piece, and it takes some wild curves that rely on religious superstition to justify the weirder aspects of it. The main characters are also bilingual, so if trying to decipher passages of Spanish text bothers you, be forewarned.

I personally find the Spanish a challenge in a good way. First, it lends authenticity to the characters of Mario and Juanca in particular. Second, it gives me a chance to judge my progress in Duolingo, and I’m happy to report that I got the gist of what was being said. Most of the time. When I didn’t, I decided I was experiencing the story like the other gringo characters, and that could be considered important too.

The weirder aspects of the story, without spoilers, involve blessings and curses and devil magic, and they didn’t always land well with me —there’s often a fine line when it comes to suspending disbelief in stories like this—and sometimes I was scratching my head. In retrospect the supernatural horror elements are laid out in a way that connects the threads of weirdness, but I was definitely pausing to determine what was going on, on occasions.

Also, there’s not a lot to like about the main characters, with exception to their loss. If you need a main character to root for, you won’t find it here. This story is gritty and rough and it deals with how we get through loss, so it’s an interesting take on it from a horror perspective. And, of course, sometimes taking a ride with extremely flawed characters gives us a new perspective on things. Take the show Breaking Bad for example. This story brings us into a world of drug cartels and border crossings and Mexican gangsters doing heinous things, so if you like those kinds of stories, then you’ll want to check this one out.

Find it here, or wherever your favorite books are sold.

Into The Forest and All The Way Through — a poetry collection for the missing

Cover Image courtesy of
Burial Day Books

A collection of poems inspired by—and dedicated to—women throughout the United States who have gone missing or who have been killed with their cases left unsolved. This is an ambitious project to say the least, and a noble effort with the intent of shining a light on the prevalence of missing woman cases that go unsolved over the course of decades. Pelayo touches on two or three cases per state to fuel her inspiration, with a dedication to each case that inspired her.

The actual poems were hit and miss for me. The ones that hit, though, hit hard with a five star punch. Average them out with the still-worthy-of-merit misses, and I can give this a solid recommendation. The Horror Writers Association agrees with its Stoker Award nomination.

You can check out Into the Forest and other Cynthia Pelayo works of horror here: 

https://linktr.ee/cynthiapelayoauthor

A Mortuary For Songs by Elizabeth Guilt -- A Novelette that Packs a Punch

Cover Image courtesy of
Graveside Press

    Don’t have time to read? Well this little piece, published by Graveside Press, is only 56 pages and, wow! Just wow. There is so much in this piece—nostalgia, heartbreak, love and loss, hope and horror. It’s a moving story about a high school love affair that takes a gut wrenchingly dark turn. I highly recommend it. If you have memories of high school and the hold that music had because of the way it spoke to you and helped you escape—everything— then this story will hit home.

    A young man finds friendship in a troubled young woman as they increasingly bond over the power of music. His love for her grows as they make and share endless mixtapes in their quests for meaning. But he can't seem to break past the thin shell that hides her real secrets. Until he does. And it's heartbreaking.

    If you need a taste of what this author--and this newish horror press has to offer, check out A Mortuary for Songs. You could find it at your favorite online book retailer. Or you can check it--and other merch--out at the Graveside Press website here: --GRAVESIDE PRESS MERCH-- 

Gag Order -- A blog entry that's NOT a book review but that is an exercise in free speech

Well, it has happened. I work for a small business in an office with six employees, two who are predominantly out in the field all day, so four people plus the on again off again appearance of the business owner, and today—today the three of us, out of four, were given a talk. The three of us out of four were asked to refrain from political discourse in the office because it makes the one (plus potentially the two who are not in the office for the majority of the day…) uncomfortable.

We are an office of predominantly women. Our boss is a fiscally conservative woman of the Silent Generation, and when she brought us together to have the talk, after the one who is also conservative in his political views left the office on a break, she visibly cringed because she had to bring up the topic. She prefaced it with her own admission to having screamed in frustration at the previous evening’s news—her, a conservative. But she “suggested” that we refrain from political conversation in order to keep anyone from being uncomfortable. Anyone. As in the one person not in attendance who voted for "the guy," the toddler president pushing the envelope like he's reached his terrible twos.

This is where we’re at, folks, being told to "be nice," because we, the "liberal snowflakes" of the past decade might offend the MAGA held-hostage-right for merely mentioning the shitstorm raining down upon us. And I get it to some extent—we have to work together, and HR is HR because no one in the workplace should have to endure unnecessary abuse. But mentioning the Superbowl, and asking about who got booed, or suggesting that the halftime show was good because of its artistically conveyed message, is not abuse. 

I've worked at this small business office for well over a decade, and you didn’t see me running to HR when the political right of the office dynamic was up in arms over "infringement" of their gun rights. Or when someone received a personal package there because they didn’t want it to be stolen off their porch. That package was an AR-15. We tolerated the discourse over the 2nd Amendment and the border. We even engaged in it with civility. So forgive me if I take offense to being told that I can't say that calling it the Gulf of America is ridiculous. And stupid. Or that Musk taking a financial hit of billions of dollars is the start of a hopeful day. My boss—who agrees with those two sentiments in particular, is suggesting that I zip it, because it makes that one employee uncomfortable.

And why is he uncomfortable? Are we objectifying him for his sexy physique, or demeaning him by telling him to shut up and get us our coffee? No. Are we belittling him or yelling at him or telling him that he’s not smart enough to understand? No. It is my opinion that he's uncomfortable because he can’t join the conversation. He can’t defend having voted for the wrong side, and we—who are simply talking about the previous night's outrageous news and shaking our heads in casual conversation, aren’t allowed to do that because it doesn’t provide a safe space for the guilt ridden minority. Or maybe he’s not as guilt ridden as we wish he would be, but he knows we are angry and he knows there is nothing he can do to muzzle us outside of work.

We will cater to the gag order. We will maintain our office silence; you know the kind, where the argument ends with her saying "fine," then following up with nothing. Nothing at all. Not one word. It's an uncomfortable silence, and it’s suffocating. That silence won’t bring the office together. Nor will it bring the nation together. Which is why I’m writing this because—surprise—I can’t stay silent.

And you shouldn’t either. Be safe out there, people. Also, be honored if someone calls you woke.