Friday, January 9, 2015

Horrorstör

I just finished Horrostör by Grady Hendrix.  I'm not typically one to pick up a scary story, and Christmas break is not normally the time I'd expect to find myself engrossed in something this creepy.  I heard about Horrostör back in October, but my library hold just got to the top of the queue, so here we are.

A few years ago I tried another scary read - House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski.  It was a lot of fun, but ultimately turned out to be too much for me and I had to give it up before I got to the end.  I'm still wondering how it turned out.  The problem was the context of the story, creepy crazy things happening in someone's home.  That gets in my head, and at the time we had a new baby that needed lots of middle-of-the-night attention.  There I was, alone in the dark, and freaking myself out.

The same thing happened even more years ago when I watched the movie Signs.  I'm a big fan of M. Night Shyamalan's early films, and Signs is no exception.  I really enjoyed it, and the ending was a great fulfillment of the whole movie.  I'm glad I didn't give up halfway through, but maybe I should have.  At that time we also had a new baby, and back then I was also spending lots of alone time, by myself, in the dark.  After Signs I was wound up for days thinking every shadow or creak was one of those creepy aliens lurking about the house.

As you may recall, the whole Signs plot is centered around this one family's home, and how the alien invasion gets personal when they have to stand their ground where they live.

Some time later I saw Cloverfield when it first came out, another alien invasion story, and you know what?  I loved it.  It was scary and exciting and new and I really enjoyed it.  But the best part about it was that I didn't "take it home" with me.  I slept like a baby after seeing it that night, and never gave it a second thought.  Why?  Because the alien invader is huge, and it's set in the big city.

Horrostör did the same thing for me, turning the haunted house genre into something I can enjoy because the story is set in a furniture store.  Brilliant!  It was scary.  It was disturbing.  And it was fun.  But best of all, at the end of the day it doesn't stick with me to the point that it makes my home an uncomfortable place to be.  Even in the middle of the night, up in the dark with yet another baby.  I suppose if I ever find myself at Ikea during a power outage I may have end up regretting my choice, but I'll take that chance.

Thanks Grady.