A Cosmology of Monsters

A lot of the buzz around this one talks about HP Lovecraft, and to be honest, I think that's a little misleading. While it shares that sense of reality not being what we think, the horror here is as much intimate as it is cosmic, and the book is far better written and interested in character than anything that Providence misanthrope ever managed. It's certainly rooted in classic American horror, with nods to King, haunted house rides and Anne Rice as well as old Howard Phillips, but it sits aside from that world. It's a quiet, odd, melancholy, book, with something of the off kilter fairy tale quality of Jonathan Carroll. It's not a brutal gorefest, and you could have an argument about if there's even a villain, but in the end, it's a book that got under my skin, and I think it'll linger there.