Tag: H

Review of Jessica Walsh, “Limited Power”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 27-29 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Content warning: This story contains sexual and physical abuse of children by members of the church.

Were it not for the fact that we commit to reading all stories in a venue here at SFFReviews, I would have quit this one after the third paragraph — heck, I was already pretty uncomfortable with the second one, when it became clear that some sort of exorcism was being performed on a young girl in a way that dehumanised her.

But, I did read it through to the end. I feel like the ending was supposed to come across as empowering and triumphant, but to me it felt merely shameful. And while I don’t ever want my negative reaction to a story to be taken as universalisable, this is not a story I could ever recommend someone else to read.

Review of Jessica Walsh, “Footprints”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 17-23 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

One common thread to many of the stories in this anthology is that of someone who is haunted or hunted by something unknown. Sometimes it’s real, sometimes it’s psychological, never is it clearly articulated or identified — either what it is or why it is hunting.

Nick’s hunter leaves footprints in the snow that seems to only fall in his backyard; but how many times it comes and circles his house when the snow is not there, Nick does not know and cannot tell. What he does know is that this is the first time the footprints have lead to his front door, and he cannot bring himself to go inside.

Instead, he runs away, to stay with friends, but even the presence of other people is not enough to protect him from what it is that makes the footprints.

Another common thread in these stories is that the lack of resolution that they have at the end. In a single instance, this can certainly heighten the disquietening feeling one gets reading the story; but when so many stories in the same anthology end in uncertainty, the overall effect is diminished. I think this story would have stood stronger on its own legs than in the anthology.

Review of Jessica Walsh, “Frostbite”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 10-16 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

The opening scene is of a man driving along a deserted winter highway early in the morning, and Walsh uses few words to effectively evoke that sense of emptiness and desolation and cold. But as the man drives along, it becomes increasingly clear that he is not as alone as he thinks — or hopes — and that no amount of turning up the radiator will keep out the cold.

This story hit a sweet spot for me — it was short enough to be a quick fix before bedtime, but long enough to really sink my teeth into — and the carefully placed miniature illustrations contributed nicely to the feeling of foreboding that grew with the story.

Review of Jessica Walsh, “In the Pipes Below”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 5-8 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Something is lurking in the pipes. The narrator can’t quite come out and say what it is, can’t even name it, merely calling it it. It slithers out of drains, and hides in toilets, and it is drawn to places where the scent of sweat is heavy.

That’s one problem with it. The other is that no one other than the narrator seems to know that it exists. That doesn’t make it any less fiercesome — and indeed perhaps makes it even more! For how can one escape something that maybe isn’t even there?

This is a straight-up creepy-crawly horror story, ending on a “what if” cliff edge. I didn’t find it particularly scary myself, but for anyone who has their own fears of what lies in the pipes below, this would probably be quite an unsettling story to read.

Review of Jessica Walsh, “Toothache”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 30-32 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Content note: This story is not for those who dislike dentists!

I’m not someone who dislike dentists (I worshipped my childhood dentist, who pulled 11 of my teeth and yet I still always looked forward to seeing him!), which means that I whole-heartedly enjoyed this story of someone waiting in the dentist’s to have an aching tooth removed. It was one part horror and one part humor and the two parts fed into each other beautifully. Gold star to Walsh for this one!

Review of Jessica Walsh, “I Wake Up In Strange Places”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 46-50 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

When it came time to settle down and read a story before bed, I picked this one because of its excellent title. It’s the sort of title that clearly has a story behind it, begging to be told, and yet the reader has no idea what kind of story it will be.

The story opens on the unnamed narrator awaking yet again in a strange place, and follows what happens after. It is remarkably factual: As a reader, I get told what happens, but not how or why. And even some of the what questions remain unanswered, as even the narrator themself doesn’t know the answer. In the end, I felt the story lacked resolution: Without the background hows and whys, I didn’t care enough about the narrator for the whats to matter.

Review of Jessica Walsh, “Giving In”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 24-26 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Content warning: Suicide.

This brief story starts off dark and tremendously sad — Christmas night, a man contemplating suicide, awash with memories of committing his senile mother to care, how in the aftermath he lost not only his mother but his wife and son, too. The thread that runs through all the events and emotions, past and present, is a music box that once played on the man’s mother’s dresser, and which he hoped would one day play for his son. In the end, the song of the music box is, I think, intended to leave the reader with a sense of hope, but I’m not sure how successfully it did so: I just felt rather down after finishing it.

Review of Jessica Walsh, “Whispering Waters”, in Little Creepers (Sewn Together Reflections, LLC, 2018): 9 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

This story — at one page long — is over and done with before it even gets started. It was the story I started off with, and it probably wasn’t the best choice for me; it was too short to be satisfying, and I find the 2nd-person narration grating. However, the final line went a long way to turning around my initial impressions.

(Originally published in Apex Magazine 66).