Critics will jump through any number of hoops to avoid having to use the H word. Horror is an outlet- taking our fears and amplifying them. When done well, it evokes an emotional response beyond simple terror- it holds a mirror to humanity. It can provide commentary. It can resonate with us. It can cause us to reflect. And yes—for many of us horror fans, it can provide that delightfully creepy and addictive hit of dopamine that causes us to linger just a little longer before turning the lights out.
If there is a stigma around horror that prevents the casual entry of people into its readership, it’s nothing that the masters of the 70’s and 80’s (King, Straub, McCammon, Ketchum, etc) didn’t earn on its behalf. Hendrix is a canny operator and very consciously distances himself from them, if implicitly. His titles and vibe are a far cry from, say, pro-faced Ligotti fandom. He writes horror. This may seem pedantic, but refusing to label books horror is why the horror section in most bookstores is either nonexistent or practically so. Sidenote: The film trend of embracing horror (even though labeling it “elevated” in order to do so) has not yet fully permeated into the writing world.
Grady Hendrix comes up with interesting story ideas. Horrorstor was pretty clever. I picked up My Best Friend’s Exorcism during an Audible sale a while back and really enjoyed it. Paperbacks from Hell, his history of 70’s and 80’s horror fiction, is an amazing book, it really pulls together a lot of deep cuts as well as better known stuff. The Final Girl Support Group is very strong and twisty, it falls apart a bit at the end, but absolutely worth reading if you’re a fan of slashers.
Hendrix’s new novel, How to Sell a Haunted House is another exceptional read.
Louise is heartbroken to find out both of her parents died in a car accident. She’s also horrified that her estranged brother, Mark, didn’t call her until the next day. He’s always been selfish that way. They do not get along whatsoever, but now have to come together to clean out their parents’ house and put it on the market. However, it seems like there’s something in the house that doesn’t want it to be sold.
Once again, Hendrix delivers a smart, campy horror novel that plays into the tropes of a subgenre. He just has a knack of making the most mundane of day to day actions or observations into something sinister or amusing. Although many of the events in this novel are utterly outrageous they still have a grounding in the real world and are so relatable, especially when it comes to our families and childhood memories. Memories are subjective, and nothing really is as simple as we think. The writing, characters and the interactions between characters were so bold, rich, vivid and full of life that you could have believed that these characters and events were real. If you have been craving a traditional haunting type of story, this is it. I appreciate how widely Grady Hendrix can pen a story, and I look forward to seeing what he does and what he writes next.