{"id":16723,"date":"2024-12-30T09:38:57","date_gmt":"2024-12-30T15:38:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/?p=16723"},"modified":"2024-12-30T12:45:25","modified_gmt":"2024-12-30T18:45:25","slug":"winter-2024-stacked","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/winter-2024-stacked\/","title":{"rendered":"Winter 2024 Stacked"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Charles Addams illustration for Publisher’s Weekly August 27, 1973<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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From gothic mysteries on tide-locked islands to folk horror in Yorkshire winters, from locked room tech thrillers to religious horror in apocalyptic convents, this winter’s reading followed haunted ghostwriters, grief-stricken parents, obsessive artists, and unhinged Victorian governesses through their dark tales. And as 2024 draws to a close with 155 books under my belt, a few reads over the course of the entire year stand out in unexpected ways:<\/p>\n

Fruiting Bodies<\/em> by Kathryn Harla<\/a>n\u00a0takes best short story collection, Psychedelica Satanica<\/em> by Sybil Oxblood-Pope<\/a> wins most surprising good time, Incidents Around the House by Josh Malerman<\/em><\/a> claims freakiest scares, The Book of Love<\/em> by Kelly Link<\/a> earns the “wish it would never end” award, and Lost in the Garden <\/em>by Adam Leslie<\/a>, <\/em>unfortunately,<\/em> runs away with biggest letdown of the year.<\/p>\n

This year’s previous seasons of Stacked…
\nAutumn 2024<\/a> \/\/ Summer 2024<\/a> \/\/ Spring 2024<\/a><\/p>\n

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This Book Will Bury Me<\/em> by Ashley Winstead<\/strong><\/a> When college student Jane Sharp loses her father; she finds herself drawn into online true crime communities, seeking connection and purpose in her grief. What begins as a potential meditation on loss takes an unfortunate turn into sensationalism as Jane and her internet friends investigate a series of college murders in Idaho. The story’s apparent inspiration from the 2022 University of Idaho killings feels deeply insensitive, given how recent and raw that real-life tragedy remains. There are two stories here \u2013 one about navigating profound grief, and one about amateur sleuths chasing a killer. The latter feels not just unnecessary but ethically questionable. A moving story about loss doesn’t need murder plots or gruesome details to resonate; sometimes, the quiet devastation of grief is more than enough. Publishing March 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

The Bog Wife<\/em> by Kay Chronister<\/strong><\/a> is a strange and haunting story about the Haddesley siblings maintaining their family’s ancient pact with a supernatural cranberry bog in Appalachia. What makes this book compelling is how matter-of-factly it treats its supernatural elements \u2013 from resurrected bog wives to hereditary rituals \u2013 while zeroing in on the tangled relationships at its core. The siblings’ fierce loyalty (to each other, to the land, to both\/neither; it is complicated, but then again, so are families) and the careful routines they build around their inherited duties hit a surprisingly nostalgic nerve \u2013 it actually reminded me of childhood favorites like The Boxcar Children, where kids create their own private world of rules and responsibilities. Here, though, instead of organizing an abandoned train car, they’re dealing with ancient bog spirits, a dying father, and the weight of generational trauma. There’s something hypnotic about watching these damaged, devoted siblings navigate their bizarre inheritance together, even as they uncover darker truths about their family’s history. A dreamy, unsettling blend of folk horror and family story that finds something tender in terrible bargains.<\/p>\n

She’s Always Hungry<\/em> by Eliza Clark<\/strong><\/a> is a collection of wonderfully weird stories about hunger, featuring everything from weight-loss parasites to alien plants to a fusion takeaway restaurant that’s definitely serving… something. My favorites were a story about an immortal cannibal rebuilding after the apocalypse (which completely embraces its own absurdity), and the aforementioned one told entirely through increasingly unhinged takeout reviews of a mysterious Italian-Chinese fusion restaurant (trust me, it works). Clark’s humor is deliciously dark and bleak throughout – exactly my kind of weird. While some stories land more successfully than others, her creative range is thrilling here, bouncing between body horror, sci-fi, and whatever genre you’d call “immortal tech edgelord cannibal fiction.” The collection showcases Clark’s talent for making the grotesque both funny and unsettling, often in the same sentence.<\/p>\n

The Nesting<\/em> by CJ Cooke<\/strong><\/a> A suicidal woman steals a nanny position in Norway, caring for two children whose mother died mysteriously while their father builds an ambitious house in the wilderness. Though the setup blends gothic horror with Nordic folklore and environmental themes – grieving children, a remote setting, unexplained footprints, and a ghostly “Sad Lady” – this atmospheric thriller somehow left no lasting impression on me. The ingredients for a memorable story are all here, which makes its complete evaporation from my memory absolutely baffling. A ghost story about stolen identity and environmental revenge that ghosted itself right out of my brain.<\/p>\n

Snake Oil<\/strong><\/em> by Kelsey Rae Dimberg\u00a0<\/strong><\/a>Three women’s lives collide at a wellness startup when its magnetic founder starts losing her grip on the billion-dollar empire she’s built. As the cracks in the company’s glossy facade begin to show, each woman faces increasingly difficult choices about loyalty, truth, and survival. Dimberg takes familiar ingredients \u2013 wellness culture gone wrong, the dark side of manifestation, corporate girlboss drama \u2013 and crafts something that feels fresh and urgent. While other recent books have tackled similar territory, this one cuts through the noise with sharper characters and genuine suspense. It’s not wellness horror exactly (no hideous mutating body horror and such), but rather a smart, tightly-plotted thriller that happens to be a compelling take on a zeitgeisty subject.<\/p>\n

Private Rites<\/em> by Julia Armfield<\/strong><\/a> is one of those books that didn’t always keep my attention…until all of a sudden it did. Julia Armfield’s writing is so unlike any author in my memory, with a lush intelligence that’s hard to articulate. It feels scientific and philosophical, distilled into lyrical, emotive prose without being overly fraught. Set in a drowning world, the story follows three sisters dealing with their emotionally distant father’s recent death. Irene’s relationship is straining at the seams, Isla is grappling with her own personal complications, and the cynical Agnes is falling in love for the first time. As they sort through their father’s legacy in his famous glass house, their fragile bond is tested by revelations in his will and a mysterious purpose they’ve been chosen for. Armfield’s unique voice and the gradual unfolding of the sisters’ stories eventually drew me in. Private Rites is an atmospheric read with its beautifully distinctive prose, tumultuous family dynamics, and the nerve-wracking enigma of its watery apocalypse.<\/p>\n

Polybius<\/strong><\/em> by Collin Armstrong<\/strong><\/a> nightmarishly unfolds in a small coastal town in 1982. At the story’s center is Andi, a smart, tech-savvy teenager working at the local arcade\/movie rental place, where the trouble begins with the arrival of a mysterious new arcade game. This game quickly becomes an obsession for the townspeople, young and old, players and nonplayers alike, triggering a series of disturbing events. As the victims start experiencing severe mood swings, paranoia, and hallucinations, Andi finds herself drawn into investigating the game’s sinister origins. The situation takes a dire turn when a violent coastal storm cuts the town off from the outside world, coinciding with a surge in aggressive behavior among the residents. Alongside her friend Ro, the sheriff’s son, Andi races to uncover the connection between the game and the town’s descent into chaos, all while grappling with her own desire to escape Tasker Bay. Armstrong’s writing style immediately reminded me of the horror novels I devoured in my younger years. It’s action-packed and straight to the point, not trying to romance us with flowery language and linguistic frills. Polybius is quite different from the “literary horror” that’s recently become popular. There’s been a lot of talk about horror with lush, beautiful prose and supposedly elevated concepts, but Armstrong’s novel isn’t trying to be that. The marketing compares this to The Walking Dead or Stranger Things, but I’d say it has more in common with the Crossed comics (not THAT bad, though) or CJ Leede’s American Rapture. The rapid spread of the contagion, the extreme violence and aggression of those affected, and the overall bleakness of the situation really reminded me of those works. Publishing April 2025<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Eye of the Beholder<\/em> by Emma Bamford<\/strong><\/a> lures you in with an irresistible setup – a ghostwriter arrives at a glass mansion (writers! rich people’s excess! all the stuff I love!) in the Scottish Highlands to pen a famous cosmetic surgeon’s memoir, only to find her subject mysteriously absent. Despite its predictable twists and stupid, unconvincing romance, something about this moody thriller kept me turning pages. The atmospheric setting and beauty industry backdrop create an intriguing world, even if the story doesn’t quite deliver on its promise. As a writer, I found myself particularly invested in Maddy’s professional journey, though the resolution of her work situation left me fuming. A flawed but weirdly compelling read.<\/p>\n

Glass Houses<\/em> by Madeline Ashby<\/a>\u00a0<\/strong>follows Kristen, a “chief emotional manager” at a tech startup, who along with her colleagues and their eccentric billionaire CEO Sumter, finds themselves stranded on a mysterious island after their plane crashes. The survivors discover a high-tech mansion that proves to be both shelter and threat, as people start dying one by one. The story weaves between island events and Kristen’s questionable character and complex past, creating a tense thriller that mixes near-future tech with classic locked-room mystery elements.<\/p>\n

Parents\u2019 Weekend<\/em> by Alex Finlay <\/strong><\/a>follows five college students who vanish during a campus event, leaving their parents to confront both their children’s secrets and their own. While Finlay’s writing is formulaic – so much so that I can’t even remember characters who apparently appear in multiple books – his short chapters and quick pacing make this a dependable palate cleanser between more intense reads. Not remarkable, but it serves its purpose as a literary breather when you’re tackling denser works alongside it. Publishing May 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

The Blue Hour<\/em> by Paula Hawkins<\/strong><\/a> unfolds on Eris, a tide-locked Scottish island – that eerie\u00a0claustrophobic setting that has served gothic horror so well in works like The Woman in Black<\/em> and The Third Day<\/em>. Like those stories, here the tide itself becomes an antagonist, twice daily conspiring to trap you with your fears. When human bones are discovered in a famous artist’s sculpture, an art curator must visit the island’s sole inhabitant, but can only leave during the brief windows when the causeway emerges from the sea. Hawkins uses this natural prison to amplify questions of creativity, isolation, and control through a slow-burning mystery that’s more interested in the psychology of its characters than shocking twists. The rising waters become a countdown clock that transforms every decision into a possible trap.<\/p>\n

The House That Horror Built<\/em> by Christina Henry<\/strong><\/a> drops us into a horror fan’s dream job – cleaning a reclusive director’s mansion filled with creepy movie props. The premise sounds like a wonderland for horror fans, but the execution stumbles with repetitive internal monologues (how many times can our protagonist second-guess a moving prop or remind us she needs a new job?) and a rushed ending that fails to deliver on the setup’s promise. While I appreciate any story that features horror-loving characters, this one needed tighter editing to trim the padding and build actual suspense.<\/p>\n

Darkly<\/em> by Marisha Pessl<\/strong><\/a> Louisiana Veda, the enigmatic creator of the Darkly game empire, crafted board games that pushed well beyond simple entertainment. Her elaborate puzzles, steeped in Victorian gothic aesthetics, garnered a cultish following before her mysterious death rendered them collector’s pieces worth millions. Enter Arcadia “Dia” Gannon and six other teens, chosen from across the globe for a coveted internship at the Veda Foundation. Their summer quickly transforms into what appears to be Veda’s final, unreleased game – one that never made it to production, perhaps for good reason. Pessl’s world-building shimmers with dark imagination, carrying forward the same haunting intrigue that made Night Film so compelling. The games she’s invented feel startlingly authentic, each one a clever fusion of artistry and psychological manipulation. Dia’s sharp perspective keeps us invested as the mystery deepens, and the plot unfolds in clever layers. A swift, addictive read from an author who excels at crafting dark tales about brilliant, enigmatic creators and the chaos they leave in their wake.<\/p>\n

Victorian Psycho<\/em> by Virginia Feito<\/strong><\/a> introduces Winifred Notty, a governess who arrives at dreary Ensor House, where in three months\u2019 time, she informs us that everyone living there will all be dead.\u00a0 Winifred is tasked with educating the Pounds children in subjects ranging from English and French to ornamental needlework, and in the course of their lessons and bedtimes, we learn that while outwardly embodying Victorian propriety, Winifred\u2019s carefully constructed persona belies a chillingly dark imagination and inner world. As she becomes further entrenched in the estate\u2019s oppressive atmosphere and uncovers the Pounds family\u2019s peculiar proclivities, Winifred finds it increasingly challenging to maintain her fa\u00e7ade. If you relished Maeve Fly\u2019s violently irreverent antihero and unhinged plot, you\u2019ll find Winifred Notty\u2019s distorted and uniquely vicious mind equally captivating in this eerie, blunt, and grotesquely humorous masterpiece. Warning to sensitive readers: maybe don\u2019t. Publishing February 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

Rivers Solomon’s Model Home<\/em><\/strong><\/a> is an unrelentingly haunting tale centered on the Maxwell siblings – Ezri, Eve, and Emmanuelle. Their childhood in a gated community outside Dallas, where they were the only Black family, was marred by strange and terrifying events in their home at 677 Acacia Drive. This traumatic past has kept them at a distance from both the house and their parents in adulthood. The siblings’ forced return home following their parents’ mysterious deaths sets the stage for a confrontation with their history. As they delve into family secrets and attempt to unravel the truth behind the house’s disturbing occurrences, Solomon crafts an atmosphere of intense unease and palpable dread.\u00a0I already love reading about the complex dynamics between the siblings, and Solomon’s portrayal of the family kept me invested throughout. I found myself particularly drawn to Ezri’s perspective, though it was often a difficult and heartbreaking place to be. Spending time in Ezri’s head was truly horrifying at times, as their trauma and struggles were so vividly portrayed. Model Home was not anything like I expected. Solomon doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to dark themes and disturbing scenes – it’s a brutal read, no doubt about it. But I found myself unable to put it down, even when it made me uncomfortable. If you’re up for an intense, unsettling read, this book offers a bold, unconventional take on the haunted house story. It’ll make you think, and it’ll take you deep into the heart of family secrets and hidden horrors.<\/p>\n

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The Unworthy<\/em> by Agustina Bazterrica<\/strong><\/a> Religious extremism meets environmental apocalypse in The Unworthy, where Bazterrica continues her exploration of how quickly humanity devours itself. Inside a mysterious convent, an unnamed woman documents her experiences among the “unworthy” using whatever materials she can find – including her own blood. While less viscerally shocking than Tender is the Flesh’s literal cannibalism, this tale of a brutal religious hierarchy creates its own kind of horror as it examines how power structures consume the powerless. I didn’t find this one as strong or as compelling as her previous work (in fact, it was a bit of a slog in some parts), but Bazterrica’s unflinching style still provokes profound discomfort. Publishing March 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

In Beta Vulgaris by Margie Sarsfield<\/strong><\/a>,\u00a0 the mundane task of harvesting sugar beets in Minnesota becomes a surreal descent into one woman’s spiraling depression. What begins as a straightforward story about seasonal work to escape debt becomes something far more devastating – and weirdly compelling. Through Elise’s eyes, we experience not just the physical labor of the beet harvest, but the exhausting weight of existing in a mind that’s constantly at war with itself. Sarsfield renders disordered eating, self-loathing, and crushing anxiety with such stark familiarity that you find yourself nodding in recognition even as you wince at the truth of it. It’s all threaded through with a caustic, mean-spirited humor that somehow makes the relentless internal monologue bearable – even darkly entertaining. When mysterious voices begin emanating from the beet pile and workers start disappearing, you’re not quite sure if you’re witnessing a psychological unraveling or something more sinister. The genius is that both readings work, and both are equally horrifying. Publishing February 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

In The Last Session<\/em> by Julia Bartz<\/a>,<\/strong> social worker\/art therapist Thea can’t shake the feeling she knows the catatonic patient who shows up at her psychiatric unit – a connection that leads her straight into the tangles of her own messy past. When the patient briefly surfaces only to vanish, Thea follows her trail to a wellness retreat in New Mexico where couples supposedly work through relationship and sexual trauma. The retreat’s increasingly invasive exercises force Thea to confront not just her missing patient’s story, but her own complicated history with a predatory pastor and teenage experiences that left deep scars. The story veers into some wild territory involving reincarnation and cult dynamics, which might lose some readers along the way who are looking for more basic mystery\/thriller business. Despite Thea making some questionable choices that stretch belief (especially for someone working in mental health), there’s something compelling about watching her barrel through every red flag in pursuit of answers. P.S. For fellow perfume enthusiasts like me who always notice perfume in their stories, there’s a Clinique Happy mention in these pages. Publishing April 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

Absolution<\/em> by Jeff\u00a0<\/strong><\/a>VanderMeer\u00a0<\/strong>returns<\/span> us to Area X decades before its formation, weaving together three distinct timelines that demand your complete attention – I had to set aside all other books to fully immerse myself in its complex web. Through a doomed science expedition, a worn-out operative named Old Jim, and the first official Area X exploration team, VanderMeer crafts a story that feels both inevitable and horrifying. I found the novel’s most chilling insight in the insinuation that certain catastrophes are predetermined, but that their severity might be negotiable – if we could even recognize the difference between salvation and extinction when it stands before us. Like looking into an abyss that stares back, Absolution<\/em> offers only the briefest glimpse of something vast and incomprehensible that will needle at your brain forever, maddening fragments of understanding you won’t even be able to articulate by the time the next book appears.<\/p>\n

I picked up It Will Only Hurt for a Moment<\/em> by Delilah S. Dawson<\/strong><\/a>, craving a spooky artist retreat story, and I wasn’t disappointed. To be fair though, I always crave thrillers or mysteries featuring artists or writers at the center! The plot follows Sarah, a potter escaping an abusive relationship, who joins a secluded artists’ colony. Things take a horrifying turn when she unearths a body, and it only gets worse as more corpses appear and her fellow artists start acting bizarrely (somewhat reminiscent of the possessed students in Lois Duncan’s YA gothic horror Down a Dark Hall, if anyone remembers that?) Sarah’s journey from victim to investigator kept me on edge, and she was an absolute hoot – her snarky inner monologue often had me laughing out loud despite the increasingly disturbing events. While the ending felt a bit rushed, I loved the vivid setting of the crumbling resort and the quirky cast of increasingly unhinged artists in this thoroughly enjoyable and very satisfying read.<\/p>\n

Guillotine, also by <\/strong><\/em>Delilah S. Dawson <\/strong><\/a>serves up a fashion-obsessed protagonist who’ll endure a terrible date for a shot at her dream job, only to find herself trapped on an island with the ultra-wealthy family from hell. While it aims to skewer the one-percent with both satire and actual skewering, the story works better as an over-the-top revenge fantasy than social commentary. A quick, gleefully graphic read that’s entertaining enough if you don’t think too hard about it.<\/p>\n

Starve Acre<\/em> by Andrew Michael Hurley<\/strong><\/a> follows Richard and Juliette as they grapple with their young son’s death in their isolated Yorkshire house. While Juliette turns to occultists and Richard obsessively digs for an ancient hanging tree’s roots, something darker than grief begins to take hold. When Richard unearths the skeleton of a hare that slowly, impossibly begins to regenerate, Hurley’s folk horror takes a turn from psychological to supernatural. The ending refuses to offer even a glimmer of light in the darkness – what some read as peace feels to me like something far more chilling.<\/p>\n

The Doll Factory<\/em> by Elizabeth Macneal<\/strong><\/a> Victorian London seethes with dark possibility in The Doll Factory<\/em>, where aspiring artist Iris works painting doll faces while dreaming of real canvases. When she meets Pre-Raphaelite artist Louis Frost, she strikes a deal to model in exchange for painting lessons, opening a door to the fascinating world of radical Victorian art. But during the construction of the Great Exhibition, she also catches the eye of Silas, a taxidermist whose obsession turns the novel from historical drama into something much darker. Despite my aversion to romance plots, the rich blend of Pre-Raphaelite art history with gothic suspense made this one worth my time.<\/p>\n

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The Sphinx and the Milky Way: Selections from the Journals of Charles Burchfield <\/strong><\/em><\/a>collects intimate journal entries from American painter Charles Burchfield, distilling his vast 10,000-page journals into a small but potent volume. Through his eyes, we experience both the transcendent and mundane – from counting cricket chirps to tell the temperature, to profound reflections on infinity while studying pussywillows. Burchfield’s entries reveal a mind deeply attuned to nature’s mysteries, yet also touched by very human struggles with depression and money worries. His observations shift seamlessly between precise detail and cosmic wonder, creating a quiet but profound meditation on what it means to truly see the world around us. If you’re a sensitive spirit yearning to find meaning in this chaotic world, this book isn’t just a recommendation – it’s essential nourishment for your inner life.<\/p>\n

Chuck Wendig’s The Staircase in the Woods<\/em><\/strong><\/a> reunites four adults haunted by their friend’s disappearance on a mysterious woodland staircase twenty years ago. When the stairs reappear, they’re forced to confront both the supernatural and their own unresolved guilt. While Wendig’s premise is intriguing, and the supernatural elements create an eerie atmosphere, the characters’ trauma exists more in description than experience – we’re told of their deep psychological wounds but never quite feel them ourselves. Though Wendig has a devoted following and he seems like a really nice guy, this emotional distance and utilitarian prose style keep me from fully connecting with his work.<\/p>\n

Susan Barker’s Old Soul<\/em><\/strong> <\/a>begins in an Osaka airport, where a missed flight leads Jake and Mariko to discover they share a haunting connection – both have lost loved ones under inexplicably similar circumstances. Their paths crossed with a dark-haired woman who moves through time collecting photographs and leaving broken lives in her wake. Jake’s search for answers takes him through neon-lit cities and across sun-bleached deserts, gathering testimonies from those who’ve encountered this ageless wanderer as she shifts between names and identities. In New Mexico, an ailing sculptor named Theo holds pieces of her story that reach back through centuries. Barker weaves these testimonies into a mesmerizing tapestry, each account adding layers to a mystery where immortality and predation twist together in the shadows of human grief. The novel unfolds with patient, elegant menace, delivering what I felt to be one of the year’s most original and compelling horror stories. Publishing January 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

Christian Francis’s novelization of Session 9<\/em><\/strong><\/a> transports Brad Anderson’s cult horror film to the page, following an asbestos removal crew through the moldering corridors of Danvers State Hospital. The story tracks the psychological deterioration of Gordon Fleming and his crew as they navigate the asylum’s shadow-filled halls, where decades of dark history seep through crumbling walls. The disturbing psychiatric sessions of former patient Mary Hobbes weave through the main narrative, her fractured voices echoing against the backdrop of peeling paint and broken windows. While the novel may not capture every nuance of the film’s suffocating atmosphere, Francis keeps a steady hand on the growing tension as the crew descends deeper into the abandoned institution’s maze-like passages. The result feels more like a companion piece than a reimagining, preserving the core elements that made Anderson’s film so unsettling.<\/p>\n

The Summer I Ate the Rich<\/em> by\u00a0<\/span>Maika Moulite<\/span>\u00a0and\u00a0<\/span>Maritza Moulite <\/span><\/strong><\/a>What’s a teenage zonbi to do when she’s got culinary ambitions and a taste for human flesh? In The Summer I Ate the Rich, Brielle Petitfour balances her dreams of becoming a chef with caring for her chronically ill mother and managing her secret identity as a half-zonbi. When she lands an internship at a pharmaceutical company and starts running an exclusive supper club for Miami’s wealthy elite, Brielle finds herself serving up dishes with very special ingredients sourced from the local mortuary. (I do wish we’d gotten more of an explanation and description of the purpose of this. We somewhat see the results, but I wanted to know more of the hows and they whys.) Despite its horror premise, the book reads more like a YA drama, complete with a romance between Brielle and Preston, the son of a powerful pharmaceutical dynasty. Drawing from Haitian zonbi lore rather than Hollywood-style zombie stories, the authors create an unexpectedly glossy take on what could have been a much darker tale. The story weaves together elements of young love, family dynamics, and class disparity, while keeping its more gruesome aspects surprisingly subtle. Publishing April 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

No One Gets Out Alive <\/em>by Adam Neville<\/strong><\/a> plunges a desperate Stephanie into the cheapest room she can find, where unnerving encounters quickly devolve into inexplicable terrors. How is this place so cold and dark and hopeless? Where are her housemates that she can hear muttering and sobbing through the walls? Her vile landlord Knacker and his towering, unwashed cousin Fergal add human menace to the supernatural dread – and Nevill excels at making both equally terrifying. Stephanie’s financial anxiety alone had me stressed before anything violent or otherworldly happened! But at over 600 pages, the story is unforgivably bloated, with one late scene taking what feels like twenty pages just to literally light a match. I’m keeping this review brief because if you decide to immerse yourself in the book, you’re already signing up for plenty of reading.<\/p>\n

Lost in the Garden<\/em> by Adam S. Leslie<\/a>\u00a0<\/strong>had me at its premise: a forbidden village, a world trapped in an unnatural permanent summer where ghosts roam freely, and that marvelously unsettling folk-horror vibe I can never resist. When I couldn’t find a library copy anywhere, I broke down and bought it. What a letdown. Though I enjoyed Leslie’s writing style and the way he could turn a phrase, the story meanders endlessly before even reaching Almanby. We spend 450 pages with characters I never connected with – particularly Heather, who reads like a hyperactive feral toddler rather than an adult, and Antonia, whose simmering but persistent obsession with Heather drives them through pointless wandering. I usually DNF books this tedious, but having actually paid for it, I stubbornly kept reading, hoping it would click into place. It didn’t. I’d give Leslie another try – he can write when he wants to – but this book desperately needed a ruthless editor.<\/p>\n

I could not possibly end 2024 with what turned out to be the most disappointing read of the year (see Lost in the Garden<\/em>, above), so I had to squeak in one more.\u00a0The Bewitching<\/em> by Silvia Moreno-Garcia <\/strong><\/a>weaves together three timelines of witchcraft and dark academia, following grad student Minerva as she investigates an obscure horror writer whose famous novel was inspired by her roommate’s mysterious 1930s disappearance. As someone who loves academic mysteries and deep dives into forgotten authors, I was hooked by the premise alone. While the ’90s setting initially charmed me with its familiar touchstones (Minerva’s Discman loaded with The Pixies, The Sneaker Pimps, and about twenty other familiar things, along with references to things like the Molly Tanzer Library and a philosopher named Stephen Graham Jones), the constant cultural name-dropping eventually felt like too much of a good thing. Moreno-Garcia deftly handles the multiple narratives and ties everything together neatly, though seasoned mystery readers might spot the twists coming. As Ruthie Langmore says, “I don’t know shit about fuck,” and even I was able to see who’s who and what’s what and where things were going. Still, this atmospheric tale of dangerous magic and buried secrets kept me engrossed to the last page and was a way better end to the year! Publishing July 2025<\/em><\/p>\n

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog,\u00a0consider\u00a0buying the author a coffee<\/a>?<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2026or support me\u00a0on Patreon<\/a><\/strong>!<\/div>\n

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From gothic mysteries on tide-locked islands to folk horror in Yorkshire winters, from locked room tech thrillers to religious horror in apocalyptic convents, this winter’s reading followed haunted ghostwriters, grief-stricken parents, obsessive artists, and unhinged Victorian governesses through their dark tales. And as 2024 draws to a close with 155 books under my belt, a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":17484,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[78,105],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-16723","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-bookish","category-stacked"],"acf":[],"views":1159,"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/Charles-Addams-illustration-for-Publishers-Weekly-August-27-1973.jpeg?fit=596%2C800&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7572p-4lJ","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":7569,"url":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/june-stacked\/","url_meta":{"origin":16723,"position":0},"title":"June 2019 Stacked Selections","author":"S. Elizabeth","date":"July 8, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"Mondays are the pits but the good news is that our Stacked selections for June are up over at\u00a0Haute Macabre today! Who read perverse classics? Who read utter trash? Who rated one title \"0 bitten-off nipples... out of 10\"?\u00a0Take a peek to find out! Did you miss our May selections?\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "bookish"","block_context":{"text":"bookish","link":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/category\/bookish\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/Sarah-stacked-july-2019.jpg?fit=750%2C1000&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/Sarah-stacked-july-2019.jpg?fit=750%2C1000&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/Sarah-stacked-july-2019.jpg?fit=750%2C1000&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/Sarah-stacked-july-2019.jpg?fit=750%2C1000&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":4221,"url":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/elsewhere-stacked\/","url_meta":{"origin":16723,"position":1},"title":"Elsewhere: Stacked","author":"S. Elizabeth","date":"January 27, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"At Haute Macabe this week you'll find towers of tomes, piles of paperbacks, and all the pages that my fellow HM writers--Sam, Erin, Maiki, Soyna--and I, are perusing at present. Whether you prefer fiction or non-fiction, feminism, fantasy, ghosts, or zombies, no doubt you will find several additions to your\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "elsewhere"","block_context":{"text":"elsewhere","link":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/category\/elsewhere\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Sarah's Picks Angels of Music and Unspeakable Things","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Sarahs-Picks-Angels-of-Music-and-Unspeakable-Things.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Sarahs-Picks-Angels-of-Music-and-Unspeakable-Things.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Sarahs-Picks-Angels-of-Music-and-Unspeakable-Things.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Sarahs-Picks-Angels-of-Music-and-Unspeakable-Things.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Sarahs-Picks-Angels-of-Music-and-Unspeakable-Things.jpg?resize=1050%2C600 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Sarahs-Picks-Angels-of-Music-and-Unspeakable-Things.jpg?resize=1400%2C800 4x"},"classes":[]},{"id":4442,"url":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/elsewhere-stacked-aural-fixation\/","url_meta":{"origin":16723,"position":2},"title":"Elsewhere: Stacked & Aural Fixation","author":"S. Elizabeth","date":"March 1, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Stacked\u00a0: Over at\u00a0Haute Macabre\u00a0you can peek\u00a0to see what Samantha, Erin, Maika, Sonya and I have been reading over the past 28 days! While I thrilled to every word of one of the books I read, the other piqued my ire frequently. Curious as to my thoughts? Visit Haute Macabre to\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "bookish"","block_context":{"text":"bookish","link":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/category\/bookish\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"2016026bmj_0019_ef_1024x1024","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/2016026bmj_0019_ef_1024x1024.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/2016026bmj_0019_ef_1024x1024.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/2016026bmj_0019_ef_1024x1024.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":5468,"url":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/autumn-earworms-and-bookstacks\/","url_meta":{"origin":16723,"position":3},"title":"Autumn Earworms and Bookstacks","author":"S. Elizabeth","date":"October 17, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Over at Haute Macabre today you will find a media extravaganza! Take a peek at Stacked to\u00a0grow your autumn reading list and afterward, head on over to Aural Fixation to learn more about our current earworms and sonic obsessions! Bonus: my pick\u00a0for most dangerously, painfully haunted melodies of all time:\u00a0The\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "bookish"","block_context":{"text":"bookish","link":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/category\/bookish\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Sarah-stacked","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Sarah-stacked.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Sarah-stacked.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Sarah-stacked.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Sarah-stacked.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Sarah-stacked.jpg?resize=1050%2C600 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/Sarah-stacked.jpg?resize=1400%2C800 4x"},"classes":[]},{"id":7000,"url":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/stacked-november-2018\/","url_meta":{"origin":16723,"position":4},"title":"Stacked November 2018","author":"S. Elizabeth","date":"December 18, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"Just in time for J\u00f3lab\u00f3kafl\u00f3\u00f0* (which I am told by an actual Icelandic person, \"is sort of a thing, but not really a thing\"--but whatever, who needs excuses to read books on Christmas!) our\u00a0Haute Macabre\u00a0staff reads for the past month!\u00a0 I may have read more nonfiction in the past two\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "elsewhere"","block_context":{"text":"elsewhere","link":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/category\/elsewhere\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/BuryMeInBooks-by-Caitlin-McCarthy.jpg?fit=720%2C900&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/BuryMeInBooks-by-Caitlin-McCarthy.jpg?fit=720%2C900&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/BuryMeInBooks-by-Caitlin-McCarthy.jpg?fit=720%2C900&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/unquietthings.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/BuryMeInBooks-by-Caitlin-McCarthy.jpg?fit=720%2C900&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":6540,"url":"https:\/\/unquietthings.com\/stacked-may-2018\/","url_meta":{"origin":16723,"position":5},"title":"Stacked: May 2018","author":"S. Elizabeth","date":"June 9, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"At\u00a0Haute Macabre\u00a0this week, all the books we've been gorging ourselves on lately! I foresee your summer reading list getting a little out of hand. Here's a quick link list of each of the books mentioned--plus two that didn't make the list, but were worth a mention... 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