Book Review: Dead Letters: Episodes of Epistolary Horror (2023)
(This review is spoiler-free.)
Anthologies hold an odd place in the modern popular literature landscape. They’re a ready way to explore a collection of viewpoints through the lens of a particular theme or mechanic, but also present a limited impression of what each individual contributor’s creative locus really is. Rarely do these collections receive mainstream critical praise, and many reviewers would struggle to name one such collection we adore with the same enthusiasm we employ when recounting dozens of novels.
Most anthologies are tied to a pivotal theme or motif that the writers create a narrative for (or bend an unfinished/unpublished story toward), but how closely these efforts adhere to the stated vision of the anthology is ultimately far less important than the quality of the writing that ends up on the page. In truth, anthologies persist in the literary world because the nature of the industry necessitates that (nearly) everyone start out writing and publishing short fiction. Most of these collections are uneven, mildly discordant efforts that are much more effective in their blurb than their execution, and quickly forgotten by readers.
Fortunately, there are outliers like Crystal Lake Publishing’s Dead Letters: Episodes in Epistolary Horror. Billed as ‘found fiction,’ this collection defines the narrative format rather than the thematic content of the stories within, presenting each entry as material records detailing separate (mostly horrific) narratives that span transcriptions of 9-1-1 calls, oral histories, audio recordings, police reports, forum posts, video game walkthroughs, SMS texts, and more familiar paratext staples like journals, letters, and newspaper clippings.
It really worked in this case–far more than most anthologies bound together by something more conceptual. The featured writers—a number of whom I already admired—made exceptional contributions in this case, and for the first instance in my years as a reader, I can say that every entry in the anthology worked well. In Dead Letters, it is almost as though prescribing a format element rather than a thematic one allowed each author to really do something exceptionally creative, and distinctly their own. While some of them stuck to telling a nonetheless quality tale in a conventional format, a handful really took the uniqueness of the assignment to heart and turned out a narrative that was not only effective in the confines of the collection, but enhanced by it.
Here’s a truth about fiction readers, from academic fallen angels like myself on to the self-published evangelists who seem intent on turning Goodreads into “Quora, but Books!”: most of us really love paratext. Those bits at the beginning or end of a section, squished between chapters, or simply dropped into the middle of a scene that commands you to think about what is being shared outside of the story, this device always manages to present a uniquely pleasurable sensation to the reader’s mind.
Paratext–meaning, in this case, representations of material accounts present in a piece of fiction–are fun because the reader gets to be in on things the characters may not know, and will undoubtedly influence their course through the remainder of the work. Readers get to speculate, hyperbolize, and piece together additional context that is often withheld or only hinted at in the primary narrative, and Dead Letters capitalizes on this love by building that special element right into the bones of this anthology.
All that being said, Dead Letters doesn’t work because it limits the writers to a literary device that we readers love; it works because the writers who created it are a brilliant bunch. While some of them made better use of the format than others, every story in this collection is a solid read, and many entries are outright exceptional.
Personal Favorites
First, I want to highlight three stories that really stayed with me, either for their literary merits, their clever construction, or both. These were the finest among a commendable bunch, and deserve special attention:
“PFC Nathaniel Hart Has Died” by G. Nicholas Miranda
This one pulls on a lot of threads and manages to tie it all together exceptionally well, which is especially challenging in a short story. Told through mail correspondence and classified government documents, we get the story of PFC Nathaniel Hart, a marine who is killed in Vietnam in an ambush and subsequently learns that he’ll cross the barrier between life and death time and time again in service to Uncle Sam.
I want to get out in front and defend this story, as I think a lot of (younger) readers are going to see the word ‘Vietnam’ and tune out. I’d encourage anyone who felt that way to move beyond it and look at what the author did with the construction of the story, because Miranda did some exemplary plotting and narrative development here, making great use of the multiple written formats to illustrate the numerous perspectives present in the story. There are also several plot and thematic layers, more so than I would expect from a story of this length, and it’s really just a remarkable piece of writing. This is an exemplary entry in the collection because it leverages the format to tell the story in a better fashion than conventional prose.
“Bury My Bones in the Bastard that Killed Me” by Gordon B. White
Not unlike acting, doing comedy in literature is infinitely more challenging than horror, and White does it here as only half a dozen authors writing today can. I laughed, I shook my head, I poorly explained the passages to my spouse who politely laughed until I let her go back to reading Darcy Coates.
Beyond its effectiveness, it makes great use of the ‘found fiction’ idea, incorporating texts, missive-by-arrow, Nextdoor-like app messages, and system-generated emails to tell the story of a mystery character who engages an apparent stranger to avenge their murder and resurrect them. It’s a refreshing tonal shift from the darker entries that append it, and as the story winds down, White is wholeheartedly unafraid to push the narrative wherever he damn well pleases, with each turn being more gloriously absurd than the last. Lots of people attempt to write like this, but precious few can submit it for publication and get the greenlight.
“The Behavioral Patterns of the Displaced Siberian Siren” by Amanda M. Blake
Far and away my favorite story in the collection. The premise is simple: what if rising global temperatures caused a change in the migration patterns of a particular cryptid, and this is what led to that creature’s discovery?
This is a patient story, well-paced and welcoming to the reader before putting a firm arm around their shoulder and pushing them toward some real nastiness. The tale itself was delightfully and abruptly grisly, contrasting the easy observant nature of its setup with the desperate, hardscrabble struggle of its conclusion. I really like when a writer leans into the messiness of death, looking full in the face of both the emotions experienced by the characters and the unceremonious violence which takes them. There was a brief reference to Miskatonic University early on and seemingly, at least to my reader’s ear, was written with a clear tremor of Lovecraft’s style.
Exceptionally well-written, smartly conceived, and effectively told, I was deeply impressed with the masterful execution of this story.
Everyone Gets a Trophy (not all trophies present)
While the aforementioned three are the stories that impressed me most, I have to hand out several other plaudits because the authors deserve it:
“…” by Patrick Barb
As I may have mentioned in another review, I envy Barb's ideas, he's a tremendously solid author who combines great talent, sharp editorial instincts, and remarkably creative ideas.
In this case, brothers alternately die in parallel universes but can text each other through a strange phone in their respective realities, gradually uncovering mysterious details connected around their deaths and uncovering clues as to what may be coming next. Told entirely through text messages, this early entry really helps the reader get an idea of what they’re in for.
“Next of Kin” by Sandra Henriques
A smooth, secretive piece about the passing of a famed author who keeps a dismaying secret in her isolated residence, this story really stuck out. Deeply bizarre but up-front about its bizarre-ness, it strikes that discordant tone where a reader who has questions probably feels that it would be profane to ask them.
“Re: The Hand (of god)” by JAW McCarthy
I’ve been impressed by McCarthy’s work previously, and enjoyed this unsettling entry from her.
Administrative Assistant Katie Hines finds herself trapped in her office building after hours with what appears to be a severed, steadily-growing human hand. She is unable to make meaningful contact with either building maintenance or emergency services, and her friends and boyfriend are insistent that her panicked texts are meant for another recipient. It has a real Unsolved Mysteries vibe in the best way possible, and the story wasn’t keen to explain much of the strangeness or offer closure as to what ultimately happened to Katie.
“Queen of this Carnival Creation” by J. Rohr
Exceptional, multi-generational story about a wayward English congregation who takes its secret deep into the wilderness of the New World, spawning a series of events leading up to the present. Really creepy vibe, and it pulls the curtain back far enough to be especially satisfying.
“The Samhain Tapes” by Colin Leonard
Folk horror detailing the disconcerting nighttime activities of a group of Irish lads through the magic of oral history transcripts. Made good use of the format, and reminded me of a touch of Adam Nevill’s later work. As someone who used to be an archivist, I was probably primed to love this story.
“Berkey Family Vacation 1988” by Jacob Steven Mohr (full disclosure: he put me up to this review.)
Reads like a found footage movie, detailing shot-by-shot a ‘broadcast’ of a family beach vacation that goes off the rails when the father of the family appears to nearly drown. A short, unsettling story that offers something a bit different from anything else in the collection. I was happy to see someone engage a described visual format exclusively.
“In the Event…” By Liam Hogan
A recently-deceased man leaves his young wife a letter detailing how “Somewhere in this grand, tired old house, lies another, rather more generous will, another testament,” making a treasure hunt of his death. Exceptionally clever idea in my assessment, and well-written.
Liam, I am going to do this to my wife, and my death letter will say that you put me up to it.
“Tashlich” by Emily Ruth Verona
Solid story about a murderer who hides their confessions in the wall of an old house. Cyclical structure that has a good reveal, and steady, solid prose. Can’t say much more without spoiling it.
“Echo Chamber” by Gemma Files
Gemma Files strikes all of my fringe popular culture sweet spots in a single short story! It opens with an internet sleuth engaging a Dark Web researcher to find a lost recording from an aughts-era occult-oriented prog rock artist, only to discover that this particular record has ties back to the Black Death and phenomena of the danza macabre. I love stuff like this that blends historical-cultural touchstones with modern pop culture. I would have been fine with this being a thousand page novel.
Lots of subtexual commentary and clever writing; Files gets characters and paces her story expertly well.
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Beyond these, the other entries are nonetheless solid, but I didn’t come away feeling I could add anything to their analysis beyond what the publisher would tease in a promotional blurb. I highly recommend purchasing this collection, and supporting the authors within that work for you.
Verdict: 8.3/10
Strengths
Very creative concept that begets unexpectedly varied and original stories
Top-tier group of early- and mid-career authors
No weak entries (I scored every individual story at least 6/10…which if you’ve read my site, you know is a solid score.)
Weaknesses
The stories which opted for simpler or more conventional paratext formats can seem less interesting when placed alongside those that really leveraged the format
With the limitations of the “found fiction” idea, some stories inevitably step on each other’s thematic toes
You can purchase Dead Letters: Episodes in Epistolary Horror directly from the publisher. Or, if you must, from Amazon.
You may also like: Prime Evil, edited by Douglas Winter; Collage Macabre, Ai Jiang, and Patrick Barb.