Friday, 2 August 2019

Apocalypse Then. And now...

Getting old has many advantages. To be fair, I’ve yet to experience any of them – the only changes I’ve noticed thus far are a musculo-skeletal system that seems to take a couple of hours longer to wake up than my brain (at which point it does nothing but complain anyway) and an increased desire to wave my fist and shout “gerroff my lawn!” at passers-by. Something else it’s brought however, is a wave of nostalgia which has manifest itself in a longing to revisit the books I read in my youth, to rekindle my love of the horror genre by reading the works that hooked me in the first place.
Joy then, greeted the news that PS Publishing have re-issued a book from one of my literary heroes, Stephen Laws, with a swanky new signed hardback and trade paperback edition of Chasm. First released in 1998, I not only read it then but attended a launch for it in Newcastle. The fact that Stephen hails from Newcastle, and set the majority of his novels in the North East played a big part in my admiration of him but not so much as the skill and imagination he employed in his writing did. Each of his novels – whilst grounded in the familiar tropes of the horror genre – always presented something original with new and entertaining ideas crammed into every intricately constructed plot.
Such is very much the case with Chasm, Stephen’s tenth novel, an epic (in every sense) tale of the aftermath of what appears to be an earthquake which strikes the town of Edmonville. Following the vividly described destruction, the town’s surviving residents find themselves marooned on isolated pillars of rock, the rest of the town having disappeared into what appears to be a huge crevasse.
The crevasse is, of course, the Chasm of the book’s title. And yes, I’ve used a capital C – exactly as the author does throughout the novel, and for good reason. This is no ordinary chasm, is in fact…
To say more would of course be a huge spoiler. Much of the joy of the novel comes from working out exactly what has happened alongside the book’s characters. Alongside the physical dangers faces by the protagonists, a host of supernatural threats are also thrown into the mix, most notably the Vorla, the darkness that dwells within the Chasm. The Vorla is a brilliant creation, a tour de force of imagination, a truly original monster.
The characters facing up to the horrors within Chasm are all skilfully drawn – real people thrown into an unreal situation and reacting in exactly the ways their characters dictate. The book’s protagonist is Jay O’Connor (whose initials – minus the O’ - may or may not be significant) whose journal entries provide a framing device for the novel. Jumping between these journal entries and the narrative itself (told in third person) lends a fragmented nature to the novel, something I loved as someone who appreciates form as much as content in a novel. This effect is further enhanced by introducing what appears to be a completely separate storyline in the early part of the book, the “Ordeal of Juliet Delore” before cleverly bringing the two strands together.
A feature of Stephen’s writing is the cinematic feel he brings to his stories. His prose is so precise and his powers of description so skilful that it really does feel as if you’re watching a film as you read the book. There are some who will throw their hands in the air at this, or possibly wring them theatrically as they cry out, protesting that books and films are different art forms but personally I greatly appreciate any author who has the skill to paint pictures with their words that put images directly into my head. Chasm is a prime example of this skill, with a whole host of brilliantly rendered set-pieces to enjoy.
Chasm is a long book, but so tightly written and with so much action contained within that you’ll fly through it. The fractured structure lends itself to plenty of cliff-hangers (including one thrilling literal example) which keep the reader hooked. The supernatural horrors are a joy to read – a mix of originality and new variations of established tropes – but it’s the introduction of some human monsters in the book’s third act that ushers the reader towards the conclusion.
I vaguely remember a feeling of disappointment when I first read Chasm that the horror had switched tone but on my re-read now see that it was in fact a master-stroke. Throughout, the book is beautifully constructed, edited to maintain pace wonderfully, storylines and characters interacting to brilliant effect and so it is that the introduction of the Caffney family provides the catalyst for the novel’s dénouement, disrupting the tenuous status-quo the narrative had fallen into.
There’s heroism, redemption and action galore in the conclusion of Chasm and, ultimately, the explanation both characters and readers have been searching for. If I have any criticism of the book it’s probably that the huge ideas the events described in the novel are based on are covered relatively quickly. It’s far from an info-dump but perhaps a little more time spent on the revelations may have been better.
I loved re-reading Chasm, enjoyed it more this time round. Given it was written in 1998, I had concerns that it may have felt a little dated given that this is the original text of the book. To be honest, this isn’t the case. True, there are no mentions of the internet or mobile phones – smart or otherwise – but, given the cataclysmic events which occur disable all means of contact with the outside world this isn’t really an issue. At one point a Ford Cortina appears but this only added to the nostalgic glow I was seeking anyway.
I’m so happy that Chasm has been given a new lease of life and is available again to a new generation of readers. It’s a thrilling, terrifying, thought-provoking read – pretty much everything I want from a horror novel.
You can – and should – buy it here.

Friday, 12 July 2019

Holy inappropriate.

Duncan Bradshaw prefers cats to dogs and tea to coffee. He doesn’t like gravy. Despite these bizarre – some might say borderline psychotic – tendencies, I still like him, as a person and as a writer. With such a warped outlook on the important things in life, it’s unsurprising that his writing oeuvre lies well ensconced within the weird end of the literary spectrum. This is a man whose last novel featured a psychopathic vacuum cleaner on a killing spree.
His latest release, a joint publication via his own Eye Cue Productions and the Sinister Horror Company, is a summer blockbuster of a novel: Cannibal Nuns from Outer Space! (Or CNFOS for short – a name rejected by Lovecraft for one of his Great Old Ones because it was too easy to pronounce). It’s a book which the author claims is evidence he has finally found his voice. I wouldn’t disagree. I’m not entirely sure where he found it but wherever it was, I imagine there was a sign saying “enter at your own risk” on the door.
Cannibal Nuns from Outer Space! – what’s it about then? Those looking for a profound meditation on melancholia in post-modern society will be disappointed. Mind you, if that’s the type of book they’re looking for, I should imagine disappointment is a big part of their lives anyway. There’s little melancholy to be found here although, come to think of it, there is some post-modernism – most notably in the frequent references and homages to classic films which are dotted throughout the narrative. These are all handled deftly, enhancing rather than distracting from the story.
Scattered too, are name drops of indie authors, something I occasionally do find distracting but here presented in such outlandish situations that the jokes are magnified. It could be the case that real character traits have been exploited for comic effect. If that is so, then there’s one Welsh author I’d be reluctant ever to share a bus journey with. (There’s also an early mention for an “Anthony the Lesser Peeved”, a statue that weeps blood – it’ll make more sense when you read it. I’m currently in communication with my lawyers regarding a potential defamation proceeding).
(Over the word “lesser”).
But I digress.
As the title subtly hints at, the story concerns the threat posed by a group of extra-terrestrial sisters of little mercy arrived on earth to harvest human flesh. Their arrival doesn’t take place until quite a way into the book which instead begins by introducing the novel’s protagonist, the foul-mouthed and slightly deranged Father Flynn, member of the Order of the Crimson Rosary, in the midst of performing an exorcism.
Things go as badly as might be expected, ultimately requiring the calling-in of reinforcements, neatly introducing the book’s other main characters, Flynn’s rival Father O’Malley and the demon itself. The whole opening sequence is a joy to read, with some excellent one liners and highly inventive use of names. Possibly aware of how unrealistic these scenes are, and with an eye to keeping fans of literary horror happy, the author cleverly introduces a beard-dwelling axolotl to help ground the whole thing in reality.
Flynn’s performance - and his subsequent handling of the aforementioned bleeding statue - culminate in his becoming surplice to requirements for the Order of the Crimson Rosary. A last chance is offered to him: rehabilitation at the St Judas Centre for Reaffirmation of Faith & Training Convent. It’s here, amid a plethora of cultural references, that he ultimately encounters the titular nuns, who have landed their spaceship nearby.
High jinks ensue.
Twice now I’ve mentioned the cultural references which litter the narrative, a feature of much of Duncan’s writing. He’s a proper magpie in this respect, finding a pleasing line of dialogue or action set-piece and pilfering them to reinvent in his own, slightly warped, way. I picture him sat atop a huge pile of shiny snippets, leaving only to find a fellow magpie to bring joy, or two more for a girl, three for a boy. Failing that, he’ll probably just shit on your car’s windscreen.
The nuns themselves are a fine creation. (SPOILER: They’re not real nuns). The reasons for their arrival on Earth are explained along with their history and there’s much graphic blood and guts-letting to be enjoyed as battle commences. Entrails and jokes fly thick and fast as the forces of good and evil, and evil duke it out head to head.
It’s a rare gift to combine comedy and horror successfully, it’s often the case that one suffers as a result of the other but that’s not the case here. Even if you don’t get the references, there’s still plenty of the author’s own deranged humour to make you laugh out loud and, more importantly, a strong narrative upon which the jokes and entrails are hung.
A word too about the presentation of the book. Much work has gone into the formatting and layout, with a variety of versions available, each unique in its own way. The version I read as an ARC will ultimately be the kindle release and, in keeping with the cinematic theme, contains “trailers” for other movies ahead of the main feature. Both of which, I have to say, I would go and see.
CNFOS is yet another triumph for Mr Bradshaw. If you can’t find anything to entertain you within its pages then your either dead or – worse – Jacob Rees Mogg. Whilst marking a natural progression from Mr Sucky, nicely developing what is a very distinctive style of writing, it also increases anticipation for whatever lunacy spills forth next from one of the weirdest brains in the writing community.

Monday, 17 December 2018

2018 in review

Right then, that’s another one done. As 2018 draws to a close it’s time for another ramble through the archives to pick out my personal highlights of the year. In a revelation even more shocking than last year’s announcement that I was leaving Dark Minds Press (the shock for most being that I was actually involved in the first place), I have to announce that there will be no Dark Muse awards this year…
The reason for this is that this year I’ve changed my reading habits. Whereas in previous years I’ve pretty much focused exclusively on new releases from small presses – with a view to a potential review – I decided to take the pressure off a little in 2018 and take my time over what I read, much of which involved re-reads of books from my past. Stephen King has featured much in this re-reading process and I began the year with The Stand and IT – both epics which rekindled my love of losing myself in long novels. This pretty much set the pattern for the year and I’ve read more novels than any other form this year, short stories have very much taken a back-seat.
As a result of this, I simply haven’t read enough of the shorter forms to compile a list long enough from which to select. Granted, all the awards I’ve given before have been limited by the pool from which I select but this year that problem was exacerbated and it didn’t seem fair to choose the best of such a small field.
As such, the list presented at the end is a top ten of my favourite reads of the year and combines novels, novellas and short stories.
The decision to leave Dark Minds was driven by a desire to spend more time on my own writing. I don’t take it personally that, since I departed, DM was nominated for two British Fantasy awards. It’s great news too to see that Ross is going to keep Dark Minds going and I look forward to experiencing a DM publication as a reader.
With regards freeing up more time to write, it’s slightly ironic that I’ve spent a big portion of my time in 2018 editing three novellas and formatting a PhD thesis. (Seriously, if you think formatting a novel or anthology is difficult, give one of those a go). I also had the joy of re-formatting my novel, Witnesses, which I’ve recently self-published after Crowded Quarantine Publications folded shortly after its initial release.
It was, I have to say, a labour of love. Witnesses is a book I’m extremely proud of so I was happy to go the extra mile with its re-release, putting a lot of work into the layout and formatting. I can now laugh in the face of section breaks, headers and footers in Word. I was lucky to have a great cover for the first printing and Neil Williams has produced another stunner for its re-release.

Counting Witnesses as one publication, my tally for 2018 is four – which meets the informal target I set myself a few years back. My second publication was a brace of short stories released for Kindle, Past Horrors. 25000 words for less than a quid was a tempting offer for a small number of people but it wasn’t until I ran an offer giving it away for nowt that people really took notice. It flew off the shelves, to linger on virtual TBR piles for years to come. Am I bitter? No. OK, the yacht and villa are still on hold but – given this is something I do to keep me sane, and not to earn a living – I’m more than happy that there are people out there actually reading my stories. It is, after all, what they’re for. To quote Neil Hannon, “a song is not a song until it’s listened to,” I feel much the same way about stories – so thanks to everyone who downloaded Past Horrors.
(Next time I'll feature a Golden retriever with psychic abilities. That number 8 spot will be mine...)

Third up was my short story Collateral Damage in the marvelous George A Romero tribute anthology Stories of the Dead which was edited by two very fine authors in their own right, Duncan Bradshaw and David Owain Hughes.

November brought the release of my novella The Lost in an anthology of World War One horror novellas, The Darkest Battlefield, which was published by Dean M Drinkel’s new venture Demain Publishing. I’m sharing the pages with writers whose work I’ve long admired and am flattered to be in their company. I also had the pleasure of working with them on the edits to the stories. It’s available now as an ebook with a paperback version due in the new year.

The writing continues. I’m currently 55000 words into a second novel which leaves around another 30000 words still to do. That should be complete next year as will, hopefully, the project I’m working on with my good friend Benedict J Jones; a series of interconnected stories featuring a WW2 Special Ops unit with supernatural overtones.
So then, to my top ten list. It is presented here in no particular order and features those pieces of writing which have given me that extra something above and beyond just being entertained. It’s fair to say that I wish that I could write stuff half as good as this – there are a couple which set the bar so high that I’m filled with despair that I could never achieve that level of skill (but in a good way…) – so massive thanks to all the authors here listed.
Here’s to more of the same in 2019.

Hell Ship by Benedict J Jones
Maniac Gods by Rich Hawkins
Shiloh by Philip Fracassi
I am the River by Ted E Grau
The Dark Masters Trilogy by Stephen Volk
Painted Wolves by Ray Cluley
Ningen by Laura Mauro
The Cabin at the End of the World by Paul Tremblay
Where the Wounded Trees Wait by Paul Edwards
The Pale Ones by Bartholomew Bennett

Monday, 3 December 2018

Witnesses (#2)

Today sees the release – I should say re-release – of my novel Witnesses. It was first published in February by Crowded Quarantine Publications but unfortunately turned out to be their last book before closing down. The rights reverted back to me and, rather that begin the lengthy process of touting the book around again I decided to put all the experience I’d gained through Dark Minds Press to re-edit and re-format Witnesses myself.
Having worked with Neil Williams on many of the Dark Minds covers, he was an obvious choice for the new cover and, yet again, he’s provided an amazing work of art to grace the novel. In a twilight zone-esque moment, I recognised the mountains which provide the backdrop to the cover as my favourite walk of all time, the head of the Newlands Valley in the Lake District – a fact not known to Neil when he was creating the cover. I’m fortunate, I guess, that my book has had two outstanding covers.
This new edition contains a new foreword and the notes at the end about how the book was written have been extended but the text remains otherwise the same (apart from one typo which somehow got through the editing process first time round which is now fixed). Whilst this can be considered as Witnesses: Redux, I resisted the urge to include an extended section set in a French plantation as I felt it would slow the momentum. Whilst the words remain the same, I’ve played around a little with the layout and decided to use different fonts for the different timelines and characters within the novel to “enhance” the reading experience. (This is only available in the paperback – those reading the kindle version will have to suffer the confusion and bewilderment that readers of the original version had to endure). (Which was deliberate BTW).
I’m very proud of Witnesses, it’s a book I put a lot of work into. Initial reaction was very positive and I hope that continues now that the book is once more available. You can buy the book here.

Monday, 12 November 2018

The Darkest Battlefield.

I’m very happy to announce that a new collection of WW1 based horror novellas, The Darkest Battlefield, is now available to pre-order. It’s the inaugural publication from Dean M Drinkel’s new publishing venture Demain and is a sequel of sorts to Darker Battlefields which was published a couple of years ago.
The kindle edition features my own novella, The Lost, alongside stories from Richard Farren Barber, Paul Edwards and Terry Grimwood. A paperback is in the pipeline which will feature the added bonus of a novella from Dean himself.
The idea for The Darkest Battlefield was proposed by Dean shortly after publication of Darker Battlefields and once the decision had been made that he would be publishing the book, all that remained was for an editor to come forward. Ignoring the eminently sensible advice to never volunteer for anything, I offered my services and as a result, found myself in the wonderful position of reading three superb novellas – stories whose company I am honoured to share here.
My own novella is set against the backdrop of the Third Battle of Ypres – or the Battle of Passchendaele as it’s come to be more commonly known – a conflict which cost the lives of hundreds of thousands of men and which was fought in some of the worst conditions imaginable with persistent rain turning the battlefield into a quagmire in which thousands drowned. The option to not participate because it was raining was not one available to them. A senior officer, visiting the battlefield towards the end of the fighting burst into tears and asked his driver “did we send our men into that?” Passchendaele was also the place where the German army first used mustard gas, and this plays a hugely significant role in my story.
I’ve long been obsessed by the Great War, something which I believe dates back to when I was ten or eleven and picked up some books in my great-uncle’s house about the conflict. What I read in there horrified me and when I asked my uncle about his experiences he refused to go into any detail and even as young as I was I could sense his discomfort. I’ve subsequently learned that my paternal great-grandfather was a hussar at the Somme (though I’m not sure if he participated in one of the last cavalry charges ever) who was killed by a sniper and that my maternal grandfather was bayoneted in the shoulder and held as a prisoner of war.
I’ve used the conflict as the backdrop for many of my stories and it’s a subject I’ll no doubt return to in the future. I’m very proud to be a part of this project, the stories presented here taking a variety of approaches to the theme. Also included is a foreword from Adrian Chamberlin and original poetry from John Gilbert.
You can pre-order The Darkest Battlefield here.

All Hell
By Richard Farren Barber
The horrors of the Great War are felt all over the world, not least by those left behind, the mothers of the soldiers fighting in the trenches. They wait every day for the arrival of the delivery boy bringing the letters that tell of the death of another son, hoping that this is not their turn. They will do anything to ensure the safety of their boys.
When a mysterious stranger arrives in New Radford, she brings with her the promise of hope, a way of ensuring the safety of the young men of the Nottinghamshire town. Mary Fothergill is drawn to the woman, desperate to keep her sons William and Henry alive - but will the woman’s demands be too high a price to pay?

Where The Wounded Trees Wait
By Paul Edwards
At the battlefield memorial at Mametz, Caryl searches for the place where her grandfather Huw lost his life. Gifted with a psychic ability passed down from her grandmother, she begins a journey into the past, uncovering truths which throw light not just on her family’s history but her own life.
Amidst the revelations of Huw’s final days, connections form as past and present grow ever closer and Caryl’s own destiny is revealed.

By Terry Grimwood
The sacrifice of war has new meaning for Major Ernst Dreyer.
The son of an abusive father, he has escaped his past and is now a Major in the German army, his company held in reserve as the British mount their attack.
His request that the men be moved up to the front line arises from more than a sense of honour or patriotism – much more is at stake than the future of his homeland. A deal has been made, one which must not be broken.

The Lost
By Anthony Watson
Amid the rain and mud of Passchendaele, an army chaplain and medical officer form a friendship and uncover the cursed history of the battlefield which is their temporary home.
An evil long since dormant is reawakening and the pair find themselves in a race against time to combat the supernatural horrors of the past, even as the third battle of Ypres rages around them.

Tuesday, 30 October 2018

Mr Sucky

Mr Sucky is the latest offering from Duncan P. Bradshaw and is published through his own imprint EyeCue Productions. With a word count coming in at somewhere between a long novella and a short novel, it’s an everyday tale of serial-killer-becomes-vacuum-cleaner, a trope which has been woefully underused within the genre. Vacuum cleaners had been around for some fifty years by the time Kafka wrote The Metamorphosis but he chickened out, preferring to use a giant insect to express his weird father complex thing.
Those expecting gritty social commentary will be disappointed if they pick up Mr Sucky but those looking for some cleverly crafted bizarro fiction will find much to enjoy here. It’s a mix of extreme horror and comedy (“Gore-Com”) which manages to combine both elements very effectively. I’m generally not a fan of extreme horror but when it’s presented in such a gloriously over-the-top fashion as it is here you can’t fail to be impressed by the imagination that has gone into some of the set-pieces. Before I started Mr Sucky, I wondered how a vacuum cleaner could possibly murder people but now I’ve finished the book, I feel I’ve been educated (and quite possibly know too much about the process).
So the “Gore” half of the equation works well, how about the “Com”? It’s really hard, being funny. Many have tried before and failed but there are some outstanding examples of horror/comedy hybridity out there too. It’s difficult because everyone’s sense of humour is different, one man’s side-splitting hilarity is another man’s melancholy and despair. Personally, I pride myself on my grumpiness but I have to say that Mr Sucky had me laughing out loud on more than one occasion. (Cue awkward conversations with my better half as to what it was that had made me laugh. “Well, there’s this hoover, possessed by the spirit of a serial killer, who’s just sucked someone’s intestines out…”) It takes skill to get the blend right and it’s here in abundance.
The “hero” of Mr Sucky is Clive Beauchamp, a serial killer with a split personality, the two halves of which provide the (mainly) first person narrative of the story. The events of the novel/la take place in the Quantico motel (a reference, I presume, to the FBI building – an organisation whose first director was J Edgar someone). Clive is setting up his latest kill, unaware that it will be him who will be Dyson with death – unsuccessfully as it turns out – himself becoming the victim, initiating a chain of events which, by a series of bizarre and unfortunate turns of fate, results in his spirit being transferred into the titular vacuum cleaner.
Following this, much chaos ensues.
To be honest, Clive’s reanimation as a domestic appliance is one of the less bizarre things to happen as the varied cast of characters make their appearances. It’s all very cleverly done with the humour ranging from broad to subtle, the violence from intense to very intense. What I particularly enjoyed was the structure of the narrative which was fractured, jumping around in time and point of view. Reminiscent of Pulp Fiction with its disrupted and looping timelines; Pulp Suction perhaps.
I had a blast with Mr Sucky, enjoyed the hell out of it. It takes a strange, twisted kind of imagination to produce something as bizarre yet enjoyable as this and, luckily for us all, that’s exactly what Duncan P. Bradshaw has.

Monday, 15 October 2018

I Am The River

I Am The River is a novel by T E Grau and is published by Lethe Press. Anyone who visits this blog regularly will know how big a fan I am of Ted’s writing with his previous, shorter works featuring heavily in my year’s best picks. Those frequent visitors may also be aware of my penchant for historical stories too so it will be no surprise to them to learn that this novel’s setting, during the years following the Vietnam War, raised my expectations to even greater heights.
The novel’s protagonist is Israel Broussard, a G.I. echoing Thomas Wolfe’s sentiment that you can’t go home again, stranded and adrift in Bangkok, battling his personal demons via therapy – courtesy of both medics and bottles. Broussard is haunted by his experiences, literally – the ghosts of his past manifest as a huge, black dog which follows him everywhere: Black Shuck.
So too, Israel is plagued by visions of a river rising up around him, a less overt image than the black dog and perhaps one related to his experiences. The scenes in Bangkok are related in first person, present tense and, as such, are wide open to the interpretation of unreliable narration – Broussard is, after all, a damaged man. However, this narrative choice is important in the overall construction of the novel, intermingling as it does with third person, past tense flashback sections detailing the mission which proved to be Broussard’s downfall. This swapping of narrative styles is effective in creating a sense of disorientation in the reader but also allows a brilliant masterstroke towards the story’s conclusion when the two styles merge as Broussard’s personal journey into his heart of darkness reaches a critical point. I’m a huge fan of books where narrative styles are used in creative ways and this is one of the finest examples I’ve seen in a long time.
The mission which provides the straw to break Broussard’s back is no ordinary one, rather a Psy-Ops exercise carried out in Laos. It’s another great decision on the author’s part to choose Laos as a location. The country was invaded and occupied by North Vietnam and was used as a “safe” area for their troops to retreat into as well as a supply line. Unable to officially send troops into Laos to engage combat, America instead dropped two million tons of bombs on the country (almost as many as during the whole of World War Two) – creating a legacy in which 300 people are still killed to this day every year because of unexploded ordnance. The details of the mission are cleverly kept a secret from the reader as well as Broussard and his fellow expendables. When it is finally revealed, it seems outlandish and ridiculous – on a par with the CIA’s list of plans for the assassination of Fidel Castro – but when it’s deployed… oh man, it sent a shiver down my spine. There’s some brilliant writing going on here –as is the case throughout the novel – pulling the reader into the bizarre events which unfold.
The culmination of these scenes, as far as Broussard is concerned, is an act of extreme violence which sows the seeds for his subsequent fall from grace. It’s a brutal scene, one that’s difficult to read. The violence is graphic but not gratuitous – far from it, there could be no other way to write such a significant moment, to show the depths to which war can bring a man.
Yet again, I’ve been blown away by Ted’s writing. A stated earlier, the use of different narrative techniques is outstanding. In particular, some of the first person sections have an almost poetic feel to them, a stream of consciousness from a damaged mind reflected not only in the choice of words but also, very cleverly, the formatting of those words on the page. Whilst this is mainly an internal story, the scene setting of the environments in which it occurs is also handled magnificently with some striking imagery which will linger long in the mind; the spectacular Plain of Jars, the megalithic landscape which is the site of the mission and hundreds of flames – burnt offerings - floating down a river to name but two.
There’s much reference to the belief of wandering ghosts throughout the novel and, in essence, that is what Broussard is. Far from home, (and all of the prejudice he faced there as a black man from the southern states), he’s a literal lost soul looking for redemption. It’s his journey towards that goal which is the story of I Am The River and it’s a journey I’m glad I took. This is an outstanding piece of writing and, given that there is so much in it, it’s surprising that it’s at the shorter end of the word-count for a novel. It’s a book that satisfies on so many levels and one which has raised my expectation for what Ted comes up with next to even higher levels.