Reminiscent of “Children of the Corn”, “Harvest Home” and “The Wicker Man”, this novel plumbs into the horrors of small-town beliefs and rituals. Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple insisted that small towns carry all sorts of dark secrets at their hearts, just as much as big cities do—if not more so. Stephen King’s most iconic novels are often sent in little hamlets that harbor eldritch terrors.
It’s easy to imagine cults growing out of such sheltered communities. We may believe that twisted religious practices are seen in multi-million-dollar megachurches with fire-and-brimstone preachers belching about witches, demons and the dangers posed by the LGBTQIA+ communities. But nothing beats the narrow minds of people who never venture more than 10 miles from their quaint little villages.
Such a shuttered atmosphere is bred in Pine Point, a place smothered by an encroaching forest and governed by an indifferent police force. When Wilhemina Greene insists that something dire must have happened to her missing mother, the local constabulary can’t be bothered to investigate. Is it really apathy or is something more sinister going on with the local denizens?
The place’s roots go far back into colonial times, when times were desperate. Out of that miserable era rose a terrifying belief as people prayed to an Old Testament god, the kind that demanded blood sacrifices and fanatical devotion from its followers. Think of the snake handlers that came from a single passage in the bible and you’ll understand how easily a bad idea can take root when planted in fertile soil.
The prickly Wilhemina Greene takes no prisoners. She’s sick of adults who give up, classmates who have turned against her and a father sunk into drink. She is a menacing force of hatred and bile and also a sad testament to how bitterness, pain and the urge for vengeance can warp a person like harsh winds twisting a tree out of its true shape. Her attitude is well matched by the pervasive atmosphere of clutching tree branches, a biting chill that never seems to leave, a blizzard that can bury people alive and the general atmosphere of a town on the verge of decrepitude and decay.
The story sinks its claws deep into you as a bunch of meddling kids take on a terrifying cult. But the Scooby Doo always learned that so-called ghosts were usually nothing more than deceitful miscreants. There is no such comfort here. The denouement of this novel is as shocking as it is unexpected. We witness just what calamity can transpire when people pray to elder gods.
This is one grisly gothic horror novel for the YA crowd. People who prefer their horror dark, frosty and stripped of sunlight will adore it.
It’s easy to imagine cults growing out of such sheltered communities. We may believe that twisted religious practices are seen in multi-million-dollar megachurches with fire-and-brimstone preachers belching about witches, demons and the dangers posed by the LGBTQIA+ communities. But nothing beats the narrow minds of people who never venture more than 10 miles from their quaint little villages.
Such a shuttered atmosphere is bred in Pine Point, a place smothered by an encroaching forest and governed by an indifferent police force. When Wilhemina Greene insists that something dire must have happened to her missing mother, the local constabulary can’t be bothered to investigate. Is it really apathy or is something more sinister going on with the local denizens?
The place’s roots go far back into colonial times, when times were desperate. Out of that miserable era rose a terrifying belief as people prayed to an Old Testament god, the kind that demanded blood sacrifices and fanatical devotion from its followers. Think of the snake handlers that came from a single passage in the bible and you’ll understand how easily a bad idea can take root when planted in fertile soil.
The prickly Wilhemina Greene takes no prisoners. She’s sick of adults who give up, classmates who have turned against her and a father sunk into drink. She is a menacing force of hatred and bile and also a sad testament to how bitterness, pain and the urge for vengeance can warp a person like harsh winds twisting a tree out of its true shape. Her attitude is well matched by the pervasive atmosphere of clutching tree branches, a biting chill that never seems to leave, a blizzard that can bury people alive and the general atmosphere of a town on the verge of decrepitude and decay.
The story sinks its claws deep into you as a bunch of meddling kids take on a terrifying cult. But the Scooby Doo always learned that so-called ghosts were usually nothing more than deceitful miscreants. There is no such comfort here. The denouement of this novel is as shocking as it is unexpected. We witness just what calamity can transpire when people pray to elder gods.
This is one grisly gothic horror novel for the YA crowd. People who prefer their horror dark, frosty and stripped of sunlight will adore it.