Hersham Horror Novellas.

A new line of novellas from Hersham Horror Books will be launched at FCon at the end of the month, featuring the talents of Stephen Bacon, James Everington, Mark West and Phil Sloman. I do like me a good novella, and still contend it’s the perfect medium for horror so it was with much pleasure I accepted a kind offer from Peter Mark May to review the books prior to publication.

I began my novellathon with Stephen Bacon’s Laudanum Nights, a Victorian-era mystery revolving around missing children and homunculi. It’s a pastiche, but a lovingly created one – with Stephen’s enthusiasm for the time period shining through in the attention to detail and the verisimilitude which results. Atmosphere drips from every page and you can almost smell as well as picture the fictional city of Blackfold and its inhabitants. (Mind you, I can’t remember Dickens or Collins dropping the C-bomb but there’s a couple in here).

It would have been easy to fall into the trap of stringing a series of clichés together – a case of style over substance – but that’s not the case here as there’s plenty of plot to be getting on with and a skilfully drawn protagonist struggling with his own personal issues. The setting is really just context for the narrative, but such a good job has been done in creating it that it enhances the plot rather than distracting from it.

The story itself is a procedural, an investigation into the disappearances of children from Blackfold, a story which reaches its conclusion in a suitably gothic house located in the marshes outside of the city. The denoument is satisfyingly horrific, the explanation for why the children have been taken nasty and creepy. This explanation is provided in an extended expositional dump by the villain of the piece, something I often have problems with but in this case handled very well; the speech is couched in regret almost, rather than braggadocio and as a result works extremely well.

Stephen has hinted that he may return to Blackfold for future stories. Having enjoyed Laudanum Nights as much as I did, I sincerely hope that he does.

Next up was Paupers’ Graves from James Everington. Unlike Stephen’s story, this one’s set in a real place in the present day. The place is Nottingham although James is at pains to point out in a brief introduction to the piece that it’s the Nottingham he sees when he closes his eyes, not the one he sees looking out of his window.

Specifically, the story is set in a cemetery where a restoration is being undertaken of the area containing the titular graves, a place where those too poor to afford a decent burial were interred.

As part of the project, ream members are given the names of one of the deceased and asked to discover their history in order that they can be put on display – an act of remembrance for those forgotten by society.

The problem, of course, with digging up the past – especially in a cemetery – is that sometimes the metaphorical can become literal. Sometimes the past really can come back to haunt you…

As might be expected from the author of the amazing Quarantined City, this is a story which operates on multiple levels. It’s a story about stories; it’s about society. It’s about truth and the power of words and memories. It’s also about ghosts and hauntings and is very effective in dealing out the thrills and chills. It’s a corker – scary and profound.

Past the hallway point now, and onto Mark West’s The Factory. This is the longest of the books, right at the top end of the novella word count and tells the story of a group of urban explorers, reunited by the funeral of a former member.

Their friend has died whilst exploring the abandoned factory of the title – described in a lovely, spooky set-piece which acts as a kind of prologue for the book – and, by way of paying respect to him, the group decide to make their own exploration of the premises.

It is a long novella, and many of those words are taken up introducing the characters to us. I felt that maybe this took too much of the book’s running time – there is an excellent scene in a restaurant in which the pasts of all the characters are revealed, and tensions surface which really could have sufficed but before we get there we’ve been through the individual phone-calls to one another and a meeting in a train station. I’m perhaps being overly-critical here, the writing is splendid throughout – Mark has a real ear for dialogue and the characters are all expertly drawn – I just felt the scene-setting took a wee bit too long.

That said, once the group – and the reader alongside them – finally get into the factory, so begins a cracking, thrilling journey through the darkness. Abandoned buildings are creepy – hence their appeal, all shifting shadows, uncovered memories and strange unexplained noises. Mark pulls out all the stops here, and has the added bonus of ghostly children whispering in the group’s ears.

Fate creeps up on the group, biting them firmly in the arse and any problems I had with the first half of the book are well and truly forgotten in the thrills and horror which conclude it.

And so, finally, to Becoming David by Phil Sloman. By way of confession, I have to say this is my first encounter with Phil’s writing but – on the basis of this novella – it certainly won’t be my last.

It’s an everyday tale of serial killers and cannibalism – well-worn tropes but given a fresh spin by clever structuring and wonderful prose. The story shifts viewpoints a few times which, as the story unfolds, is shown to be a very clever technique indeed. It’s central character however, is Richard, who picks up men in pubs so as to bring them home to…

Well, what he gets up to is pretty unpleasant but these scenes are described in a matter of fact way, without any real fuss thereby making them all the more effective. There’s gore here of course, but this isn’t the main source of the horror in the novella – the book is much more subtle than that, psychological rather than visceral in its terrors.

It’s a haunting tale – quite literally – and one of possession. The David is the title is one of Richard’s victims, unfortunately he won’t simply lay down and die.

I felt Becoming David was a book of two halves, there’s a distinct change in tone in the second part of the book as Richard goes on the run, a lighter feel with a lot more humour. This wasn’t a problem though, as I enjoyed both sections. The writing, just like Richard’s planning, is precise –and a joy to read. From (restrained) slasher horror to a psychological descent into Hell, I loved every word of it and its conclusion is very satisfying indeed.

Peter mark may has picked a fine set of books to launch his novella line and I highly recommend that you buy every one of them. I wish him well with his new project and look forward to future publications.

The Quarantined City

The Quarantined City is the debut novel from James Everington and is published by Infinity Plus. With a novelette (Trying To Be So Quiet) already published and a novella – Paupers' Graves – lined up for September, this is a productive year for James, which is excellent news for anyone who enjoys well-crafted, intelligent dark fiction.

It’s great to see the book finally out there in its complete form given the turbulent the turbulent history it’s so far endured. Its original incarnation was as a serialised novel published by Spectral Press, the release of its monthly episodes unfortunately coinciding with the unseemly demise of said publisher. Given that one of the many threads running through the book is the power of words to change things, there’s a certain irony about the whole situation. Last I checked, Infinity Plus were still there but, you know, still early days…

The structure of the book lends itself to serialisation, being split into six parts but, having re-read the parts which were published, along with the concluding parts which weren’t I can say that reading the novel all at one go is absolutely the best way to appreciate it. It’s a complex work, with a lot of balls in the air at one time and makes demands of the reader simply to keep up with it and I have to say being able to read it all at one go made that process so much easier.

Which all sounds like a criticism. Which it surely isn’t. Yes, reading The Quarantined City requires some effort from the reader – but good writing should. The narrative is deliberately confusing and ambiguous but the author does this so skilfully that you’re never completely lost as to what’s happening. The questions you’re asking yourself are the ones James wants you to be asking.

The plot revolves around Fellows, an inhabitant of the titular city, on a quest to uncover the stories written by reclusive author Boursier. Discover the stories he does, and the novel is structured in such a way that each of the six parts contains a story within a story as Fellows reads the individual works of Boursier.

In so doing, changes apparently occur within the city itself, Fellows’ grasp of reality subtly altering. Reality, of course, is a relative term – no more so than in the Quarantined City. The book can be seen as Fellows’ quest to uncover the secrets of the city – not least among them why the quarantine was enforced in the first place.

I’d love to say more about the narrative but fear that to do so runs the risk of straying into spoiler territory. I must say though that this is one of the most cleverly constructed novels I’ve had the pleasure of reading. The reader can’t help but be drawn into Fellows’ quest – the clues and riddles presented along the way heightening anticipation of the final reveal.

And wow, what a reveal! Perfect. All that has gone before is masterfully tied up in a brilliantly constructed conclusion. There is great joy to be had as each revelation is made; as each of the perplexing riddles seeded throughout the narrative are answered; as sense is finally made of the skillfully created confusion.

Honestly, make time to read the final part of the book – The Quarantine – in one sitting. It’s a masterclass in technique. The story within a story device is no better employed than here, the frequency of the interludes increasing to mirror the headlong dash towards resolution, the lines between who is writing and who is being written about blurring until…

I was blown away by The Quarantined City, loved its structure and its intelligence. The ability to produce such a mature and complex piece of work so (relatively) early in his career suggests great things lie ahead for James. I sincerely hope they do.

Trying To Be So Quiet.

Trying To Be So Quiet is the new novelette from James Everington and is published by Boo Books. I’ve been a fan of James’ subtle, understated writing since reading his collection Falling Over back in 2013. When I reviewed it at the time, I called it intelligent and thought-provoking, an analysis I stand by and characteristics which have been on display in all of his writing since. No more so, I’m pleased to say, than in this new offering.

The story is told in third person with an unnamed protagonist, a highly effective technique which serves to distance the reader from him – effective in that this is entirely in keeping with the character James has created here, a man who is attempting to do the same with people around him following the death of his wife Lizzie. This is not simply a case of wanting privacy, and time to grieve alone however, more a case of being unable to grieve – such an intense emotional response is beyond the protagonist, much easier for him to compartmentalise, to hide his emotions behind walls, his – as the text describes them – “precious barriers and screens”.

The narrative jumps around from present to past, filling in the back story of the romance. There’s much skilful character building to be enjoyed here – some subtle foreshadowing too, with a passing nod to Eliot’s The Wasteland – painting the protagonist as pragmatic rather than emotional, realist rather than romantic. He takes photographs that lack style and finds it difficult to comprehend why the architects of the grand buildings in Oxford would design such massive buildings knowing that they would be long dead before they were completed. He studies accountancy, Lizzie anthropology – the “study of everything.”

Little wonder then, that Lizzie’s death has such profound implications. How can a man who works so hard to hide his emotions accept – and even embrace – one of the most powerful of all?

Not easily. Work, and his work colleagues become even more of an irritation and his nihilistic world view intensifies. Then the blackouts begin, and this is where the supernatural elements of the story begin to ramp up. Glimpses of a figure in a mirror, shadowy at first but then coalescing into an all too familiar face and cracks appearing in plasterwork, the latter (along with the fractured nature of the narrative itself) a potent metaphor for the apparent breakdown of the protagonist. Special mention has to be given here to Helen-Marie Kelly whose Heavy Duty Illustration have provided a distinctive look to the interior of the book with an ever expanding crack moving its way down the page as the book progresses, enhancing the reading experience beautifully.

Events finally lead to a return to Oxford, where he and Lizzie first met as students. Here it is that the story finds resolution. And a very fine resolution it is too, skilfully and satisfyingly tying up all the ideas and narrative threads – what is actually breaking down may not be the character himself, but the walls he has built around himself. Trying To Be So Quiet is a book about death and grief for sure, but it’s also a book about life and love and the significance of moments, however fleeting. It’s about what may come after but, more importantly, it’s about the here and now.

I literally had goosebumps when I finished reading Trying To Be So Quiet. I strongly recommend that you see whether it will have the same effect on you.

Falling Over.

Falling Over is a collection of short stories written by James Everington and is the first time I’ve encountered his work. It won’t be the last. It’s a special moment when you read a new author and immediately get the feeling that you’re onto something special and such was the case here. The stories in this collection are evidence of great talent at work, both emotionally and intellectually stimulating.

The first story gives the collection its title and is one of the best stories I’ve ever read about paranoia. (And I don’t just say that because they will probably read this). Written in first person – as it had to have been – it’s a marvellously ambiguous tale that slowly builds an - ultimately almost unbearable - atmosphere of confusion and mistrust. There’s a hint of Bodysnatchers about it but the premise is presented in wonderfully written prose that allows the reader to tap into, and experience for themselves, the paranoia of the narrator. An unreliable narrator? Probably. Maybe. Possibly not… An uncertainty that adds another layer of enjoyment to the story. It’s an intelligent, thought-provoking piece of writing and a strong start to the collection.

The theme of paranoia is also evident in Sick Leave (which riffs on ring-a-roses, another reference to falling over) but which also throws fears of sickness and death into the mix along with a hint of alienation, the latter something it shares with New Boy which incorporates an extra measure of guilt for good measure. (And which also features a fall…)

Fate, Destiny and a Fat Man from Arkansas explores themes of – well, fate and destiny as it happens, the eponymous American a manifestation of the unavoidable karma meted out on two burglars who choose to break into the wrong house.

Light relief comes in the hundred words of Haunted which delivers everything you could possibly want from a piece of flash fiction with great aplomb.

The Time of Their Lives presents another view of mortality and is cleverly written from the perspective of a young boy, unable to grasp the reality of what is happening in the hotel he is begrudgingly staying in with his grandparents. The central theme will call to mind a couple of films which I won’t name for fear of spoilers but I will mention that the atmospheric writing conjured up images of sequences in Kubrick’s The Shining for me.

I personally believe that one of the circles of Hell (one quite near the centre actually) is made up entirely of thousands of suburban neighbourhoods, each with their own residents committee setting the standards of what’s required in order to "fit in" with the community. If you’re of a similar mindset then you’ll probably end up rooting for The Man Dogs Hated – an individual who falls way outside expectations in this tale which exposes the petty mindedness and hypocrisy of those who cast judgement on others, those who fail to conform to their own version of what’s right and proper.

The last two stories in the collection are perhaps the darkest. Drones is another first person narrative (and all the more effective because of it) from a soldier whose job is to carry out remote attacks by UAV, witnessing the death and destruction via computer monitor. This distancing effect has a profound effect on him, desensitising him to the terrible acts he is committing, rendering the act of killing automatic and emotionless. It’s a descent into madness tale which – if I was being overly-analytical – could have something to say about video gaming but, whether this was the intention or not, the ending is very dark, and very effective indeed.

The final story has the ironic title Public Interest Story – just how ironic it is becomes apparent as you read. It’s basically a (well deserved) diatribe against the British Press and the monumental hypocrisy of that institution. It’s not press intrusion that’s the theme here, rather manipulation and the horrifying ease with which public opinion can be influenced by untruths and prejudices presented as facts. There’s another theme running through the story too, that of mob mentality - the two feeding off each other to bring about a conclusion horrifying as much for its inevitability as what actually happens.

Falling Over is a fine collection of intelligent, thought-provoking horror which I thoroughly recommend that you buy. You can do that here.