Hats off to all writers of dread, weird and supernatural literature – you’ve kept this reader most entertained with scary texts in 2011; I know from the blogosphere and book review sites out there I am not alone. This really has been a great year for horror fiction.
2011 saw some superb books hitting our shelves, Kindles and suchlike. Whatever your proclivity insofar as the horror sub-genre of choice, there’s no denying there were rich pickings to be had. But to business, and the announcement of this the first Spooky Reads Horror Book of the Year award.
A quick recap then of nominations for this year’s book which were: Adam Baker’s Outpost, Gary McMahon’s Dead Bad Things, The Thing on the Shore by Tom Fletcher, The Ritual by Adam Nevill, and House of Fear edited by Jon Oliver. Click here to read more.. »
Oh, what an awesome year it has been for horror fiction and its related sub-genres. I’ve read and reviewed a lot of great books in 2011. Spooky Reads passed its first anniversary back on November 25th, and now I’m launching what will be a yearly nod to those tomes which I deem some of the spookiest reads out there.
Spooky Reads is awarding a main prize, Best Horror Book, and a silver medal to the next strongest book titled Notably Macabre. The Best Horror Book is that which I’ve considered to be the most enjoyable horror read of the past year. Something that grabbed my attention, shook me around and generally gave my synapses a good kicking. General all round horror excellence, and suchlike. Notably Macabre is a nod to another book which though not quite king of the lot, is a title I’ve found to be nonetheless worthy of strong mention and attention. Click here to read more.. »
Dead Bad Things is a fierce and primal supernatural novel. Brutalist horror writer Gary McMahon has succeeded not only in gestating further the furtive world he seeded in its prequel, Pretty Little Dead Things, but has also excelled in exuding a sense of menace and threat rarely seen in paranormal fiction.
But be under no illusion, this is bleak stuff. Black stuff. Chose a metaphor: chiselled from onyx, painted on pitch canvas, cut from darkest cloth; any are suitable. I don’t normally care for my horror to be so perpetually gnashing, unless it really is doing something special. Books from the dread literature canon that have awed others with their decadent flourish, such as Exquisite Corpse or The Seven Days of Peter Crumb, left me fairly ambivalent as I felt they over-played their more traumatic aspects to their detriment. Click here to read more.. »