A trifecta of folk horror. I was reading The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones while I was at Archon 46, a sci-fi and fantasy event featuring writing hero Jonathan Maberry. Whom I got to meet. And to hand-deliver a bottle of local Chambourcin after alerting him to the presence of a wine trail here in Southern Illinois.

Back to the book. Holy shit. SGJ wrecks me. In a good way. But I will have to take a few deep breaths from now on before starting reading. The Only Good Indians is a wonderful example of what happens when someone breaks a rule pertaining to the Other world and doesn’t know it or doesn’t take it seriously. In this story, four young Blackfeet men know they broke a rule—they hunted elk in a section reserved for their elders. Ten years later, they begin to realize they did more than poach—they transgressed. They have made an enemy of Elk Woman. And her fury is implacable. Their (self) destruction is painful to witness, and the struggle of those around them to avoid becoming collateral damage is heart-rending.

I stopped in at the Old Herald Brewery & Distillery for lunch and an Oktoberfest. The building is the former offices and printing site of the Old Herald newspaper. This ex-reporter appreciates the theme, carried through as it is on some of the menu items.

Harvest Home, by Thomas Tryon, makes just about every list of folk horror ever. I am late to the party, but can confirm—folk horror gold.

This is another one where the main character, Ned Constantine, knows he broke a rule. He fails to consider the consequences. Ned brings his wife and daughter to the quaint farming village of Cornwall Coombe, where they resolve to embrace country living and leave behind the pace and distractions of NYC. Ned counts befriends young malcontent, Worthy Pettinger. Ned begins to understand the nature of the strange pseudo-religious beliefs in the community, and the role of the Widow. Fearing for Worthy’s safety after the young man disappears, Ned determines to uncover the mystery. One great thing about this slow-build book is how the reader is constantly two or three steps ahead of Ned. You get the thrill of discovery as the plot unfolds, and the dread of watching Ned make mistake after mistake.

I was at Alto Vineyards for this one, drinking a Chambourcin blend, Dawg House Red. It should have been mead…

I just finished reading The Hunger by Alma Katsu. Katsu makes the horrific story of the Donner Party—the pioneers who resorted to cannibalism to survive after forced to winter in the mountains during their ill-advised shortcut to California—even more gruesome and terrifying. Blending folk tales and dread whispers from German settlers and Native Americans of several tribes, Katsu creates a threat that is monstrous, vicious, and horrifying when you realize what “the shadows” are and where they originate. While this book is clearly fiction, equally as clearly Katsu did plenty of research. It’s easy to lose yourself in this book, and to feel kinship with some of the characters.

I was at a nearby winery, Starview Vineyards, drinking Chambourcin, the same wine I brought to Archon. That oak tree you can see in the background is one of my favorite trees in the area, and is a true landmark.

Remember: read more horror. And share what you are reading!
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