As soon as Chinese New Year got cancelled, I knew this was serious. Then the virus spread just like viruses do in every horror novel. So much so, in fact, that my immediate first thought was not to stock up on bottled water and toilet paper, but that it’s finally time to read The Stand.
Naturally I’m a Stephen King superfan, so it’s strange I hadn’t yet read what is commonly considered his magnum opus. In the back of my mind I knew there would be a right time to read it. I thought it might be after King’s death (rue the day) or after reading everything else by him. As a way to fully compare it to the rest of his oeuvre. Clearly, however, a once-in-a-100-years pandemic was the sign I was looking for. This is it, folks. It’s time.
As it turned out…maybe not the best idea. After seven months of living through this, there’s a level of new normalcy. But in those early days, during constant uncertainty, seeing nearly 4,000 Americans die daily, entire nursing homes wiped out, entire families…it was scary as hell. Reading a scary book during a scary time isn’t nearly as fun as it sounds.
The Silent Patient is told from the written perspective of Dr. Theo Farber, a talk therapist, who changes jobs to be able to work with the famous patient, Alicia Berenson, a painter who had shot her husband, Gabriel, several times in the face and then never spoke again. Instead of going to prison, she was committed to the failing psychiatric unit, the Grove. There, Theo faces internal resistance to his attempts to help Alicia. The novel also explores Theo’s own psychological issues and is partly told from Alicia’s diary leading up to the murder of her husband.
The Silent Patient is Michaelides’ first novel and won the Goodreads Choice Award for Mystery & Thriller. I hadn’t finished it by the time it won this award, so I did not vote for it myself. But I can see the appeal.
It’s spring, 1998. The world is obsessed with Titanic, discovering the Internet through AOL, rocking out to bubblegum boy bands, enjoying newly-FDA approved Viagra, and learning a lot about sex in the oral office–I mean, oval office. It also happens to be the year that fledgling writer Robert Devereaux finally publishes his landmark novel Santa Steps Out.
Since penning the first draft ten years earlier, it’s been a hard-fought battle. Many industry leaders claimed to love it, but never to the extreme of publication. Pat LoBrutto, a highly successful agent, went so far as to say he wanted to tell his grandchildren he edited the peculiar Santa book. Pat pushed the book at Tor, where it seemed like a Christmas miracle was finally going to happen. Devereaux made thousands of revisions per their request. But once again, when it came down to it, nobody dared publish the sex-filled Santa Claus horror novel.
Throbbing Tales 2019 has burst forth into the world! Available now in paperback and eBook.
If phones and social media has scrambled our brains and melted our attention span, why haven’t novellas had a resurgence? They’re meatier than a short story and still short enough for us bipedal surface-dwellers to finish in one sitting. So where have all of the novellas gone?
Throbbing Tales made a space this year to highlight the novella format. I was overwhelmed with the quality of the submissions, and I’m proud to showcase them within these pages. This year’s model contains a wide variety of work, coming at you from every angle. We’ve got weird, we’ve got exciting, we’ve got poignent, we’ve got cannibals and sex-bots and wizards and werewolves. Time to unzip, then zip it right back up, because it’s about to get weird…
This cool book, originally published in 1988, asked famous writers to create the ultimate list of the Top 100 Horror Novels over history. I was so impressed by the obscure and classic titles they discussed, I copied the full list with Amazon links for reference. Check it out!