Themed anthologies can be predictable or repetitive, with similar themes being regurgitated in one story after another. The HA of HA is a glorious exception.
The brief, that every story should be about, or inspired by, a horror anthology, is sufficiently vague for authors to off at various tangents, and they certainly have. The tales vary from the fairly straightforward to the bizarrely surreal, dealing with subjects from the banal to the most existentially absurd.
The volume as a whole is a thoroughly satisfying read, an eclectic collection of hideous parts assembled into a Frankensteinian beast by an editor who obviously loves his subject. There are half a dozen absolute gems in here, a remarkable batting average for a volume of this type, nestled in a solidly well-written and engaging set of tales.
It's not perfect - a few passages came across just as a little too carefully and self-consciously put together, as if by an author who hasn't quite found his or her own voice yet, but every single story has something to recommend it. There are no fillers here; it's all worth reading.
Over the last two decades the classic staples of horror fiction have been hijacked and sanitised for the mainstream, so the current generation of horror writers are probing new avenues to unsettle us in different ways. I can't think of a book that demonstrates this more effectively than this one.
A definite recommend for horror fans.
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Most of you should now stop wasting your lives reading online reviews and go buy the book - what comes next is a short individual critique of each story, for people who like that sort of thing.
1. It's Only Words, by Colleen Anderson.
There is a grand metaphor at the heart of this short piece, about the power of words to remake an individual. Ms Anderson handles it quite deftly overall, her high poetic language beautiful and emotive, though some of the more prosaic sections seem a bit dull by comparison. A good idea, well executed, which is as much as one can ask from a piece this length. I might have preferred it without the last paragraph, which more or less explains it all - I was enjoying the uncertainty.
2. Tree Ring Anthology, by Daniel Ausema
Splendidly original, this is an epic tale of a post apocalyptic world, told over several decades of environmental turmoil. We are given a few key facts, but much more is hinted at, and the implication that brutalized flora might eventually turn on us is a chilling one. An excellent and thought-provoking piece of work - it's worth buying the book just for this story.
3. The Useless, by Dominy Clements
This starts in a fairly standard way, with an easy-to-follow lineal narrative. Mr Clements takes a couple of horror cliches from our collective comfort zone, then turns everything on its head. I had to read this twice to figure out what happened, and I'm still not sure. A confusing, but satisfying read.
4. Tears of the Mutant Jesters, by Rhys Hughes
There is a tightrope between intelligent wordplay and groan-inducing puns, and this story strides along it with confidence, with a couple of minor slips. A short and amusing piece, it plays with deep existential themes but doesn't properly explore them. Shades of both Terry Pratchett and Jasper Fforde. Fun.
5. The Apoplexy of Beelzebub, by Colin Insole
This is dark, disturbing and unrelentingly grim. We can all feel trapped by family, place, convention, culture. In Mr. Insole's nightmare city, insularity is celebrated, cruelty the greatest tradition, escape the worst sin. This will resonate with anyone who lives in any kind of community, or has a family, and will stick with me for a long time.
6. Paper Cuts, by Nick Jackson
In this collection, the theme of circularity crops up several times. Here, a writer writes about a writer, and the words bite back. Every writer will recognise the feeling of digging as deep as you can inside yourself, laying your soul on the page and still only seeing a poor shadow of better writers' work. Sometimes your own words come back and mock you - here they do worse than that. Ironically, this is a highly original piece, and often quite beautiful, in a red, squishy and dripping sort of way.
7. Horror Stories For Boys, by Rachel Kendall
At the heart of this story is a rather implausible incident, but Ms Kendall writes so nicely we have to forgive her. A story firmly rooted in reality, and the banal everyday horrors of troubled families everywhere. She just pushes it a little further and skews the point of view enough to make this a compelling read.
8. Common Myths and Misconceptions regarding Rita Kendall, by A.J. Kirby
This is an ingenious exploration of identity, with a protagonist we empathise with from the start, even as we gradually realise how little she is in touch with reality. There is a tragic past, some things we are all actually afraid of, and a proper horror story moment.
9. Midnight Flight, by Joel Lane
A story about one of the things we fear most in real life. The supernatural elements serve largely as metaphors for real-world terrors, and it's all the more effective for that.
10. The Fifth Corner, by E. Michael Lewis
A great little supernatural tale, somewhat in the style of Ramsay Campbell with a little nod to Lovecraft. Short and pacy, with a good sense of growing menace.
11. The Follower, by Tony Lovell
We are scared of lots of things in real life, and this story deals subtlely with several of them. On the surface it's about a life that isn't terrible or tragic, but goes wrong in the hundred little ways that life can. It's by turns touching, sad and sinister.
12. Residua, by David Mathew
A lovely and gradual unfolding of the psychological complexity of an apparently simple, if unpleasant scenario. Mr. Mathew takes a not entirely original concept and moulds it into something new and unique.
13. The American Club, by Christopher Morris
A story with layers of meaning, it leaves the reader with many questions unanswered, but that's fine by me. Elements of Jeckyll and Hyde, and The Spiderwick Chronicles
14. The Rediscovery of Death, by Mike O'Driscoll
It's a common conceit among writers that words have power, that books are magical, that something can be written strongly enough to exist independently after it's sent out into the world.
The idea of a book that feeds and grows fat on its readers is not completely new, but Mr. O'Driscoll delas with it confidently here, juggling abstract concepts with an exciting, pacy story. A great read.
15. Flowers of the Sea, by Reggie Oliver
Another story about a very real fear. An artist with advancing dementia creates works that mirror her deteriorating mental state. It seemed a little contrived once or twice, but the imagery and metaphor make for a powerful and affecting tale.
16. The Pearl and the Boil, by Roseanne Rabinowitz
In adolescence, we form very strong attachments to music, films or books that seem to speak to us. Such things can stick with us for life, and a rediscovery in middle age can be as evocative of youth as photographs or diaries. This story is about that rediscovery, about regret and missed opportunities. Ms. Rabinowitz writes in a subtle impressionistic style that perfectly complements the subject matter.
17. The Writer, by Clayton Stealback
Some beautifully written passages and nice touches of domestic detail make this a convincing little tale. It's a study of obsession, sliding into psychosis, all undermined by a magnificently unreliable narrator.
18. Horror Planet, by S. D. Tullis
There are many good things to say about this piece. The author paints vivid word pictures and our protagonist is well drawn if not entirely sympathetic. The central premise is good and quite novel. Unfortunately, his word choice and sentence structure were often distracting, sometimes almost random. Some passages I had to reread to get the meaning properly. And I felt it stopped, rather than ended.
19. You Walk The Pages, by Mark Valentine.
One of horror's favourite archetypes is the highly intelligent, articulate and cultured homicidal psychopath, yet most real acts of evil are committed for petty reasons, by people who are a little insecure and not very bright.
Real characters with these properties are not popular because they are less engaging and more annoying, yet Mr. Valentine has created one we can absolutely enjoy spending time with. It's a first person narration from someone with little literary skill, but the character voice is consistent and engaging, and the slow drip feed of growing terrors is nastily effective.
20. All His Worldly Goods, by D. P. Watt
While most writers make an effort to make characters engaging, quirky or interesting, Mr. Watt has deliberately given us a horrifically dull individual, who apparently has no interests, hobbies, friends, or discernible personality. As the character says himself, he may as well be dead, and in the end, death is the most interesting thing that happens. Yet the story is gripping - an excellent coda for a wonderful book.