It’s Appalachia January for me! I really love that region of the country, and would like to get to know it better. But for now, here’s what I’ve been reading.
Madame Cruller’s Couch by Elizabeth Massie at Stooges in Jackson MO with an Old Fashioned. Subtitle is apt: Dark and Bizarre Tales.
Brother by Ania Ahlborn at Walker’s Bluff (again) with a Blackberry Whiskey Lemonade. Just when you think it’s gotten as dark as it’s going to get, guess what? It gets darker. For me, Ahlborn is one of the scariest writers out there right now.
Blacktop Wasteland by S.A. Cosby at Walker’s Bluff with a Black Rose cocktail — a high octane heartbreak of a book. I’m actually about two chapters from finishing it. I’m slowing down because the high speed making me race too fast! NOTE: OK. I finished it. Might be the best last sentence ever.
I missed getting this book in the Night Worms book subscription, which would have been really cool because it would have come with fun add-ons like stickers and bookmarks. Still, I got it within the first week or two after release.
101 Horror Books To Read Before You’re Murdered by Sadie “Mother Horror” Hartmann isn’t a list of the greatest horror books of all time. It’s not a list of favorite horror books. It deliberately leaves out Stephen King (because it goes without saying, if you know modern horror, you know Stephen King!). It is a dissertation on modern horror. And it is amazing. Cue the chorus: “You’ve left off a favorite of mine!” Yeah, that’s not really a valid point here. This is a survey of the last 20 years in horror, with an eye to presenting some of the very best, and to do so over a chainsaw-sweep of sub-genres. If you read all of these books (before you are murdered) you will be an educated horror reader, a scholar of modern horror. And you’ll still be behind Sadie Hartmann, who is still reading and researching and compiling and reviewing. It’s not just the depth, though. It’s the insight. The first pages of this book give you an At a Glance reference guide which offers keen details on sub-genre, tone and style. I’ve made it sound easy. It’s clear that every book included in this guide has been thoroughly read, considered and studied. It’s already a classic.
The drink is a King Ale, a cream-style beer created in cooperation with Ravinia Brew Works and SIU Carbondale’s Saluki Brew Works. Enjoying at The Underground Public House. A couple patrons good naturedly moved over to let me get this photo.
This book now—I haven’t seen a description of The String Diariesby Stephen Lloyd Jones that does it justice, and I won’t do it justice either. The plot basics: The villain, Jakob, is a man from a long-lived, aristocratic race of people gifted with, among other things, the ability to shift into any other person’s likeness. The hero—the final girl, if you will—is an altogether likeable young wife and mother whose entire life has been shadowed by the generations-long obsession of Jakob to possess a descendent of his long-ago love. That his advances aren’t wanted is not part of his consideration. The story sweeps across Europe and over a century, beginning in a frenzy and, building from there. Beautifully written, with vivid characters, mystery, secret societies, and an obvious love for scholarship.
The wine is a peach lavender sangria at the Peachbarn Winery & Café. #nerdinabarwithabook What are you reading? And what are you reading it with?
The Bell Witch by John F. D. Taff is far more than a telling of the folk legend of Tennessee’s Bell Witch. It’s also a contemplation on the psychology of being haunted, and a philosophical musing on the essence of haunting and being haunted. It’s the kind of book you can have a conversation with, a story to think about while you are watching a camp fire jump and blaze, or when you hear something thud on the roof of your house at night. Taff keeps true to what happened in the Bell Witch legend, and stretches enough to ask “Why did it happen?” Intriguing read.
I don’t usually try to match what I’m drinking with what I’m reading. Check out Jo Kaplan’s excellent newsletter for that kind of alchemy. However, in this case, I couldn’t resist an old-fashioned made with locally foraged shagbark syrup. At Ebb & Flow Fermentations, the charms of which I have previously sung here. If you are in Cape Girardeau, make sure you stop at Ebb & Flow.
The Witch Hunterby Finnish author Max Seeck, (translated by Kristian London) was a whole different critter. A police procedural noir crime novel, this grim and occult-dusted story introduces Jessica Niemi, a cop without the usual foibles (alcoholism, history of insubordination, you know the routine) but with plenty of her own secrets. I carried this book with me everywhere because whenever I had 30 seconds, I was reading it. That kind of stop/start reading doesn’t always work so well with a book in this genre—the plots are usually far too complex. And this one is complex! But it’s so gracefully written that falling back into it is easily done. No spoilers here, just read it. And if you are a beautiful brunette, treat yourself to a chic black evening gown. Wink.
I’m at Blue Sky Vineyard for this one, and that’s a glass of their estate-grown rosé, one of my favorite local wines. It’s always a hard choice at Blue Sky because I like so many of their dry and semi-dry wines, but rosé is always a good choice.
What are you reading in a bar (winery / microbrew) these days?
I like a marina bar. Water. Piers and docks. But also, there’s often a sense of community. A vacation vibe even in winter.
Pyramid Acres Marina Bar features a Bloody Mary bar. Did I take advantage of it? No, readers, I did not. I got an attack of shyness and didn’t want to inquire how one approached the bar. I mean, you get the vodka part of it at the bar, or…? So I had vodka and soda instead. I think there’s a name for that drink, but I didn’t order it by any cool name, just by ingredients.
The book is Revenant, by the late Melanie Tem. Revenant is a ghost town. It’s a last chance place for the dead and those who mourn them to make peace with death. It’s a very dark book, and I read a lot of dark books. It’s also hopeful, in the way the sun behind storm clouds is hopeful—the kind of gold rim that makes the dark more ominous but also reveals that the sun is still there.
I brought John Dies at the End by David Wong, the identity assumed by Jason Pargin for that book and the serial story that preceded it, to Nessie’s the marina bar at Lithia Springs on Lake Shelbyville. Turns out Jason Pargin is an alum of Southern Illinois University Carbondale, where I have my day job. My signed copy is from Confluence Books, our indie used (and some new) book store.
That book is a wild ride. Sci-fi /cosmic horror, humor black as night, and truly likeable characters. The drink is a Midori-based spring-themed house cocktail. It was as yummy as it looks.
A cool thing about Nessie’s—a lake monster hangs out there. Not really, I wish though. It’s a marina sign. Still fun though.
I’m one of those people who sometimes causes computers to malfunction just by walking into the room. It happens with other machines, too. Motorcycles, snowmobiles, wave runners. So I’m on the fence a little bit about technology being the nemesis of the manitou in The Manitou by Graham Masterton, a classic in the horror genre. (Also, I did not realize the book was the first in a series until I pulled it up on Amazon to share the link.) At the same time, it makes good sense, and is right in line with what I’ve learned from old fairytales and folklore—some of our friends from the other side of the veil do even less well with technology than I do.
That drink is a fancy cocktail enjoyed at Walker’s Bluff – Tasting Room. I can’t remember what was in it, but it the garnish was an edible flower. I ate a petal. Because of course I did. It was called a flower child. Pretty.
Used book stores are the bomb. I love to buy new books hot off the presses, help out a writer in the process. But finding gems at used book stores is such a dang thrill, isn’t it? I knew I was going to Owl Creek Winery. So it’s only natural to read a book by Owl Goingback! Darker Than Night was published in 1999, but it has all the very best features of a 1970s horror movie. I’m reading it and all but shouting “Tell him!” “Believe her!” “Why are you doing that?” Also, if you move into a house overloaded with kachina dolls… don’t.
The drink is a blueberry basil cider. Owl Creek makes some of my favorite summer wines, but when I go there, I always wind up seduced by the cider.
I always say I don’t want to start in a book in a series. It’s intimidating, picking up that first book and knowing there are six more to go. I mean, I got things to read, how can I commit to your series? And then I wind up captivated and reading the series. Countless times. This time, it’s the Cormoran Strike and Robin Ellacott mysteries by Robert Galbraith, aka JK Rowling. I read Career of Evil at Pheasant Hollow Winery with a Catawba wine. Catawba is a bit sweeter a wine than I typically drink, but it’s not an icky sweet—it’s got a nice earthiness to it, too. There are maybe three wineries I’ve been to that I really love the Catawba, and Pheasant Hollow is one!
Also, friends, please don’t worry. I have a backlog of these, I’m ok, really! 😉
Sour Candy, by Kealan Patrick Burke, a novella that had me cringing with every page. Not gross-out cringing, but “this is a nightmare and I want to wake up but also see what’s going to happen” dread cringe. In the very best way. Tragic, occasionally funny, always scary.
This picture is a little bit of a cheat because I’m not in a bar. I do occasionally read other places! This one is a lunchtime read at Harbaugh’s Cafe. Great cover, eh?
How High We Go in the Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu is—and I don’t say this lightly—the most important book to come out about pandemics during the Covid pandemic years. Though he started writing it well before most people in the world had ever heard of a coronavirus, this book, which begins with the discovery of a centuries-old little girl who was killed by a virus, which is soon unleashed on the modern world, is relevant in a way a book deliberately about the real pandemic probably could not be. It’s about grieving and living, about family and purpose, it’s sad, and funny, and mysterious, and philosophical. I’m blown away. Also, I get to interview the author for the SIU Alumni Magazine. Cuz he went to SIU. Where I work.
I’m at Shotgun Eddy’s in Eddyville. The outdoor stage—which, in January, is not where Tim played—features a tie-line for horses. Eddyville bills itself as the Trail Riding Capitol of Illinois, and I’m pretty sure they own that claim. And yeah, that’s a good ol’ Stag beer.
Since my husband is a gigging singer-songwriter, I get to bars and wineries and micro-brews a whole lot. And I’m the nerd who brings a book for the occasion. Here’s what I’ve started reading this new year.
Reading now: Ragman by JG Faherty. First off, what a great title for mummy horror! At The Liquor Hut, in McLeansboro.
Epiphany Ferrell 