This Thing is Starving is a deeply impressive debut, and a remarkably powerful and well-constructed narrative about the hardships visited upon women. Told through the eyes of a house full of ghosts and a threadbare family, Aislin does an excellent job of connecting the reader with the characters, and a major strength of the novel is how real it makes their pain and discomfort visible without being indulgent or exploitative.

Right out of the gate, I loved the tone of the book. The prose is crisp, always a touch playful or glib, and much of the more mundane happenings are clearly drawn from or inspired by the author’s real world experiences. I’ve occasionally written about how the word ‘fun’ is a near-pejorative in literary reviews, but as someone who reads a ton of dark fiction, I really enjoy when something in the genre also makes me laugh. The Fatal Mind flirts with being cozy at times, but never quite crosses that line, and would probably serve as an excellent title for the horror-curious to explore the genre.

Datlow’s newest anthology, Fears: Tales of Psychological Horror, considers the aspect of dread and its influence on our mental state as we experience the world around us.

The core elements of reality TV make great grounds for horror. Questionable motives, real-life situations, narrative arcs, as well and and the winner-take-all nature of the format, really make it an ideal backdrop to get creepy and/or murder-y. In this case, the show is one where a bunch of pretty women compete to marry a very basic Midwestern white dude, though some of contestants may have ambitions beyond making the handsome farmer-pilot from Iowa as happy as a Texas Roadhouse gift card.

The Rain Artist excels in juxtaposing a horrific vision of the future with instances of resonant beauty that serve to keep the story interesting and showcase the author’s impressive and instinctive understanding of human experience. The writing is strong enough to outpace the imperfect plot, effectively drawing the reader into its unique perspective until the world of The Rain Artist feels dangerously close to our own.

Slewfoot is a wonderful tale that lives to subvert expectations, feeling more like a darkly whimsical fable than a horror novel, and tinged with elements of legal drama and romance which round out a remarkably original novel. Brom's vision, patiently revealed, is one of depth, promise, and refreshing originality among the wider fiction about this historical period. Though ready for a popular audience, this novel touches literary elements, wisely and thoughtfully engaging the topics of belief, faith, trauma, and belonging. 

‘The overwhelming feeling with this novel is that the author wants to write a spooky story about a group of childhood friends while also penning a modern morality tale about the dangers of purity culture and casual racism. Keeping a foot in each lane, White struggles to drive either narrative at more than a surface level, and the novel feels far short of what it could have been.’