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Wednesday, August 19, 2015

The Suffering by Rin Chupeco

Hey everyone! I'm back today with a review of The Suffering (out September 1, 2015)the sequel to The Girl from the Well, both by Rin Chupeco, In case you missed it, I reviewed The Girl from the Well last week right here, and I absolutely loved it. It felt like such an old time ghost story, one of those that make it hard to read at night while in bed, and The Suffering was no different!

Breathtaking and haunting, Rin Chupeco’s second novel is a chilling companion to her debut, The Girl from the Well.
The darkness will find you.
Seventeen-year-old Tark knows what it is to be powerless. But Okiku changed that. A restless spirit who ended life as a victim and started death as an avenger, she’s groomed Tark to destroy the wicked. But when darkness pulls them deep into Aokigahara, known as Japan’s suicide forest, Okiku’s justice becomes blurred, and Tark is the one who will pay the price…




Praise for the Suffering:

"Rin Chupeco's The Suffering is a horror lover's dream: murders, possessed dolls, and desiccated corpses. I cringed. I grimaced. You won't soon forget this exorcist and his vengeful water ghost."
--Kendare Blake, author of Anna Dressed in Blood

“Chupeco deftly combines ancient mysticism with contemporary dilemmas that teens face, immersing readers in horrors both supernatural and manmade. The Suffering is a chilling swim through the murky waters of morality.” 
--Carly Anne West, author of The Bargaining and The Murmuring

From the novel:
It’s still early morning when our group is given clearance to enter. Aokigahara is a deceptive forest. It has all the hallmarks of a popular tourist destination: narrow but well-­maintained hiking trails with a surprising amount of litter, not to mention strips of tape and ribbon wrapped around tree trunks. The leader explains that hikers use them as markers to maintain their bearings. Later on, one of the other volunteers whispers to us that some of the tapes were left by those who came here to kill themselves, in case they decided to change their minds. The revelation horrifies Callie.
A few miles into our hike, anything resembling civilization disappears. Roots crawl across the hard forest floor, and it’s easy to trip if you’re not constantly looking down. We’re outside, but the trees make it feel claustrophobic. They reach hungrily toward the sun, fighting each other for drops of light, and this selfishness grows with the darkness as we move deeper into the woods.
It’s quiet. The silence is broken by the scuffling of feet or snapping of dry twigs as we walk. Every so often, volunteers call back and forth to each other, and rescue dogs exploring the same vicinity that we are will bark. But there are no bird calls, no sounds of scampering squirrels. We’re told that there is very little wildlife in Jukai. Nothing seems to flourish here but trees.
This deep into the woods, any roads and cleared paths are gone. At times, we’re forced to climb to a higher ledge or slide down steep slopes to proceed, and there’s always some root or rock hiding to twist an ankle.
And yet—­the forest is beautiful. I like myself too much to seriously think about suicide, even during my old bouts of depression, but I can understand why people would choose to die here. There is something noble and enduring and magnificent about the forest.
That sense of wonder disappears though, the instant I see them. There are spirits here. And the ghosts mar the peacefulness for me. They hang from branches and loiter at the base of tree trunks. Their eyes are open and their skin is gray, and they watch me as I pass. I don’t know what kind of people they were in life, but they seem faded and insignificant in death.
Okiku watches them but takes no action. These are not the people she hunts. They don’t attack us because they’re not that kind of ghosts. Most of them, I intuit, aren’t violent. The only lives they had ever been capable of taking were their own.
I’m not afraid, despite their bloated faces, contorted from the ropes they use to hang themselves or the overdose of sleeping pills they’ve taken. If anything, I feel lingering sadness. I can sympathize with their helpless anguish. These people took their own lives, hoping to find some meaning in death when they couldn’t find it in life. But there’s nothing here but regret and longing.
And there’s that tickle again, so light it is nearly imperceptible. Something in this forest attracts these deaths. It lures its unhappy victims with its strange siren’s call and then, having taken what it needs, leaves their spirits to rot. A Venus flytrap for human souls.
Something is wrong here, and suddenly, the forest no longer looks as enticing or majestic as when we arrived.

Let me preface this rambling review with this: I love a good scary story. I'm sure I've said that before. I grew up on horror movies, so finding a scary story is like falling in love to me. In the last few years, it's been rather difficult to find a truly scary story that makes me paranoid about looking outside, afraid that someone is going to be out there, looking back at me. Many scary stories these days rely on the jump and grab, as I call it. They make you gasp and laugh right afterward, rolling your eyes at your silliness. I want a novel that pulls me inside it, a story that makes the line between fantasy and reality blur to almost nonexistence. These two books have accomplished that, and it makes walking into my bedroom full of windows an ordeal.
Tark and Okiku are back, and they're traveling to Japan in order to find Tark's friend and mentor of sorts, Kagura, who is lost in the mysterious forest of Aokigahara. This story may have a basis in a creepy village and terrifying rituals, but really, this book is about Tark and Okiku finding out what they mean to each other. Tark is navigating his final year of high school and bold girls that actually find him attractive, all the while balancing Okiku and her need for vengeance. Tark's confusion over what he feels for Okiku feels so real and you understand what he's going through, even if his feelings are about a ghost. Sometimes you forget that Okiku is a ghost, because the two of them fighting evil and being in each other's lives feels like a buddy comedy at some points. When they fight for each other and risk everything they have to make sure that the other is okay, the reader has to wonder: how can these two be so right for each other, but in the worst possible circumstances? You cheer these two on and want them to find happiness, and you know that their happiness lies in each other.
Without spoiling too much, the last half of this book was amazing. The first half was really good, too, but it's the second half where we see a lot of the action. Aokigahara and the accompanying village inside it are terrifying and creepy, and the author does a fantastic job at describing it so your imagination is full of the eerie surroundings. Since I'm especially afraid of dolls (THANKS MOM), all the scenes involving the ritual bridal dolls freaked me out, to the point that I couldn't even look at my stuffed animals without wondering, Is this the night you reveal your evil plan to me? (Yes, I still have stuffed animals. Deal with it.) 
What I loved best about this story is how everything was connected. You know how in Harry Potter everything comes full circle, even the smallest details that we all missed the fourth time rereading? Yeah, The Suffering is like that. Rin Chupeco would plant the seeds, casually and relaxed, and then they would grow throughout the novel, until I reached the point of saying, out loud, Oh, junk, right! This can happen because this and this happened earlier! It was exciting and fun, like solving a mystery, and I felt a thousand times smarter by the end.
Seriously. Pick this one up. 

Buy Links:
Barnes&Noble- http://ow.ly/PrKLh
Books A Million- http://ow.ly/PrL7j
Indiebound- http://ow.ly/PrLXu

While you're grabbing this one at one of those sites, slip The Girl from the Well into your cart as well. Trust me, you won't regret it.
 The Ring  meets The Exorcist in this haunting and lyrical reimagining of the Japanese fable.
Okiku has wandered the world for hundreds of years, setting free the spirits of murdered children. Wherever there’s a monster hurting a child, her spirit is there to deliver punishment. Such is her existence, until the day she discovers a troubled American teenager named Tark and the dangerous demon that writhes beneath his skin, trapped by a series of intricate tattoos. Tark needs to be freed, but there is one problem—if the demon dies, so does its host.
With the vigilante spirit Okiku as his guide, Tark is drawn deep into a dark world of sinister doll rituals and Shinto exorcisms that will take him far from American suburbia to the remote valleys and shrines of Japan. Can Okiku protect him from the demon within or will her presence bring more harm? The answer lies in the depths of a long-forgotten well.

Praise for The Girl From The Well:
“[A] Stephen King-like horror story.” -Kirkus Reviews           

“Told in a marvelously disjointed fashion.”  -Publishers Weekly STARRED Review                              

This gorgeously written story reads like poetry.” -Brazos Bookstore                         

Darkly mesmerizing.” -The Boston Globe

“A superior creep factor that is pervasive in every lyrical word.” -Booklist


Buy Links:
Barnes&Noble- http://ow.ly/PrQFa
Books A Million- http://ow.ly/PrQQU
Indiebound- http://ow.ly/PrQp2

About the Author:
Despite uncanny resemblances to Japanese revenants, Rin Chupeco has always maintained her sense of humor. Raised in Manila, Philippines, she keeps four pets: a dog, two birds, and a husband. She's been a technical writer and travel blogger, but now makes things up for a living. Connect with Rin at www.rinchupeco.com.
Social Networking Links:

Also, I've got a giveaway for you guys, too! Just click here to be taken to the Rafflecopter site where you could win copies of The Girl from the Well and The Suffering! How awesome is that?
Okay, guys, I'm out of here, but promise me that you'll give these two books a check. Seriously, because I can't handle these books being out in the world and not being in every home. They are both that good.
I'll see you on Friday, hopefully with some writing updates. If not, at least I can talk about the pheasants some more, right? Well. Sort of.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Is Summer Over Yet?

Happy Friday everyone!

I feel like this week was ten years long. It went by relatively quickly, but so much junk happened that it's like I've fit an entire lifetime into seven days. I guess I should start with the most exciting news:

I HAVE A NEW COMPUTER.

Oh, yes, I have a new computer and it's beautiful. I've even hugged it a few times and I have no shame in saying that. It's so exciting to have a machine that doesn't take ten minutes to warm up and still won't open some of my Word documents without a fuss. Don't get me wrong, I loved my old computer, but you notice the little things when you get a new computer. Well, I guess I noticed the little things even when I still had my old computer, but I tried not to let them bother me because, you know, first world problems. But now I have this lovely thing and it works and it doesn't pretend to fail on me each time I turn it on. It's almost terrifying the power I have with this computer.

The next news is kind of crazy. Instead of windows, our bedroom has three sliding glass doors. I sometimes love to sit on the bed and stare outside, because we have nature around here. Birds hopping around in the grass, dragonflies trying to drink all the pool water, lizards being insane and doing push ups to intimidate me. I love it all. On Tuesday, as I sat on my bed and thought about studying my German, I spotted the fattest, cutest bird I'd ever seen. I'm not exactly stealthy (I fall in flats), but I knew I had to get a picture of this thing for my boyfriend. So I grabbed my phone and stalked outside, hoping I wouldn't scare it off before I could get a long distance photograph. I didn't, and this was what I got:


In case you're wondering, yes, I'm right above this thing. After much debating, we finally figured out that it's a pheasant. It was so cute and I ran inside to tell my boyfriend that we had a new friend, and then I came back out only to find that our cute friend brought along three brothers/sisters/friends.


Yep, there's four in that little scrum. Unfortunately, one fell in our pool and died, but the other three are still kicking. I assume. We built a little coop for them, but then two of them flew out this afternoon while I was at work and the other one hid from me until I got home from work. Now it's burrowing in the bushes because it's about a thousand degrees over here in sunny California. But we're putting him/her in the coop tonight to see if he/she follows his/her brothers/sisters/friends. I'm hoping so because I've already explained to him/her that we have a dog and a cat, and we just don't have room for a bird.

The rest of the week has been full of cleaning, building, reading, swimming, and figuring out what we're doing with this house. Everything has just felt like a rush this week, but I have managed to find a few minutes to write. It's nothing, really, but it's nice to sit down and bang out a few words here and there. Hopefully I'l have more time tomorrow in between a short burst of work and then errands. I've also been burdened with the absolutely horrendous task of making our dog swim for a few hours so he'll be plenty tired when my boyfriend and I go out for the day on Saturday.

Yep, this is my life.

Come on back next week when I'll have a few reviews for you and, hopefully, an update on the writing. For now, though, have a great weekend and if you're out in California with me, stick your sheets in the freezer before you go to bed. It's the best advice I have in 97 degree weather.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

The Girl from the Well by Rin Chupeco

Ha! I told you I'd be back Wednesday and here I am! It's pretty late and I should have done this earlier, but I was busy running around with some new friends (more on that on Friday!). But today I thought I'd put up a fun review for The Girl in the Well by Rin Chupeco.


A dead girl walks the streets.

She hunts murderers. Child killers, much like the man who threw her body down a well three hundred years ago.

And when a strange boy bearing stranger tattoos moves into the neighborhood so, she discovers, does something else. And soon both will be drawn into the world of eerie doll rituals and dark Shinto exorcisms that will take them from American suburbia to the remote valleys and shrines of Aomori, Japan.

Because the boy has a terrifying secret - one that would just kill to get out. 


Yes, this book did come out about a year ago, but the second one in the series is coming out next month (and I'll have a review of it up next week), so I thought it would be an opportune time to review this one!

First off, let me start by saying that The Ring and Ringu scared the junk out of me when I first saw them. I don't particular like either movie, but I loved the story and the idea of that scary girl. Then I learned it was based on a real Japanese folk tale and I was kind of hooked. This story takes that tale one step further. Okiku is a revenge spirit, hunting down child murderers and killing them in a fashion that's only okay for horror movie monsters. During one of her hunts, she runs across Tark Halloway, a young boy that appears normal on the outside, except for several strange black tattoos that hold back a dark secret in his life.

I'l be honest: I didn't know that this story was based on the same legend as those movies, so when I started reading, I thought The Girl from the Well was a straight rip off. Then I decided to be smart and remember that this was a Japanese tale and that there is no ripping off. After that, I enjoyed the junk out of this book. I loved Tark and his cousin Callie, because they were both so different from other YA characters. Tark's mom is in a mental institution after tattooing her son to "keep him safe" and then trying to kill him. Tark, of course bothered by this, is sarcastic and tries to be tough, but he's sweet and such a good kid. Callie does her best to be a guiding light in Tark's life, but it's hard, especially when she learns just what Tark is holding inside his body.

Okiku, of course, is awesome. She's vengeful and ruthless, but you cheer her on as loud as you possibly can because she's going after truly awful people. She sets these sad souls free, letting the murdered children turn into fireflies and go off into the afterlife. She chooses to stay in order to help these souls and to reek her terrible revenge on these gruesome people. Her relationship with Tark becomes something special and other worldly, and it's beautiful. Neither of them look at each other romantically, and it's not some weird, gosh, I wonder how they would make out. No, it's more like two people (well, one person and one ghost thing) watching out for each other. 

One of the best parts of the novel involved all the description about Japanese culture and the dolls that are used in the exorcisms. I'm completely ignorant when it comes to this culture, and it was interesting to learn a few things, even if I can't exactly use this information in my day to day life. But reading about the dolls and what they do for the ghosts...it was creepy (because I hate dolls) and informative. Now I feel ready to try my own exorcism. Maybe on my cat, because there must be a fat demon inside her.

I would highly recommend this book and highly recommend you coming back next week when I review the sequel, The Suffering. I'm almost done reading it and, so far, each chapter is more exciting than the next!

Have a good two days off, because I'll definitely be back on Friday. I'll let you know about my new friends, my new acquisition, and plans for the future. Not all of it has to do with writing, but that's coming, too. Slowly but surely. Like the turtle. And now all I have to do is win the race.

First, I have to find a race.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Horrorstör by Grady Hendrix

Today we have a (slightly) oldie but a goodie. I finally looked through my Kindle and picked out the books that I haven't read yet (THERE WERE TOO MANY) and now I'm just grabbing one (symbolically, of course) and reading it. I'm kind of glad that Horrorstör was the first one I blindly picked.


Something strange is happening at the Orsk furniture superstore in Cleveland, Ohio. Every morning, employees arrive to find broken Kjerring bookshelves, shattered Glans water goblets, and smashed Liripip wardrobes. Sales are down, security cameras reveal nothing, and store managers are panicking.

To unravel the mystery, three employees volunteer to work a nine-hour dusk-till-dawn shift. In the dead of the night, they’ll patrol the empty showroom floor, investigate strange sights and sounds, and encounter horrors that defy the imagination.

A traditional haunted house story in a thoroughly contemporary setting, Horrorstör comes packaged in the form of a glossy mail order catalog, complete with product illustrations, a home delivery order form, and a map of Orsk’s labyrinthine showroom.


I'll be totally honest: my entire house is filled with IKEA furniture. When I was in college, IKEA was the most amazing place in the world. A desk for $50? A couch for $100? I imagined that this huge factory-like building was what Heaven was like. Then, as I grew up, I understood that IKEA wasn't the best furniture and that I didn't really care. I still had my same desk from college and that thing had lasted for years. But I still worried about one thing: the employees. Whenever I went to IKEA, I could see the absolute hopelessness in some of the employee's eyes. The people they had to deal with, the environment they were working in, the vast area of crap that they had to keep clean. It's enough to drive anyone mad.

And that's exactly what this book is about.

Amy doesn't like Orsk. She doesn't like her fellow employees, the fact that she has to smile all the time at stupid customers, and her boss that keeps pushing her to do more with her time at Orsk. But she needs money, and that's why she volunteers for the night shift, because it'll get her her rent money and keep her roommates off her back. But she never signed up for ghost hunting employees, strange writing on the walls, and ghosts that want revenge any way they can get it.

At first, I thought that Horrorstör was something of a comedy/horror, where I could read it at night and not be totally paranoid about looking out the windows. But that was not the case. Sure, there were parts to this book that were really funny, especially anything that involved Amy's disdain for everything around her, but, for the most part, Horrorstör is a scary, scary book. Grady Hendrix did a wonderful job at detailing each and every scare, bringing them all to life and causing your imagination to work overtime. I had to put the book down a few nights and read something else because it was giving me the chills.

Basically, this book is a trip from the beginning to the end. I think what I loved especially was the ending. I won't spoil anything, but let's just say that the ending left a lot to be desired. And that's why I loved it! Horror movies aren't supposed to have an ending. They're supposed to resonate with you forever and make you look over your shoulder twice at that weird sound in the other room. Great horror movies make you feel safe for about two seconds at the end before throwing another wrench in your face. That's exactly what this book does. It reminded me of the original Nightmare on Elm Street, when Nancy walks outside and everything is lovely, and then the car turns into Freddy. That's exactly what this book does.

So, my advice: grab this book. Buy it, rent it, steal it from a friend. Do whatever you can to read this book. You'll be so glad that you did.

I'll see you guys Wednesday!

Monday, August 3, 2015

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

I think everyone knows this book, so I'm going to skip the synopsis and all that.

It's been almost three weeks since Go Set a Watchman came out, and I'm sure everyone is tired of reading it. I was tired of reading it before I even bought the book. With all the controversy surrounding the actual "finding" and publishing of the book, it was looking pretty doubtful that I would even read it.

And then the reviews rolled in. 

"Atticus is racist!" I saw that one on almost every book blog I visit. Not that they were lying. I mean, he does say some pretty racist things. In fact, he says some things that made me wonder what the hell I was reading.

You have to understand something. When I was a kid, I loved to read. I would grab whatever I could and read, but I tended to drift toward Baby-Sitters Club or horse books when we went to the bookstore or the library. I think we picked up To Kill a Mockingbird when I was in fourth grade. I read it in about two days and couldn't fathom that there were books out there like this. It instantly became one of my favorites and I would quote Atticus in high school and college papers, finding a reason to fit him in. I'm sure there are many other people out there in the world that feel the same way as me, because Atticus was always up there when people talked about folk heroes or those that inspired them to live better.

So I did what any rational Atticus-ite would do: I read this book as a standalone.

Um, what?

When I picked up GSAW, I decided that I would read this book the way Harper Lee had written it: as her first - and perhaps only - book. I forgot about Scout and Jem and Dill, I forgot about Atticus and his good nature toward everyone, I forgot about Calpurnia and the way she treated those children as her own. Basically, I acted like TKAM had never happened.

And I ended up really, really liking GSAW.

Look, in this particular social climate, I get that people were having a deal with some white guy spouting off racist remarks. There's no getting around it; it's really uncomfortable, even if you forget that this is Atticus Finch spouted it all. But, at the same time, Atticus needed to do it. Not that he needed to be racist, but this was the 1950s South, people. Many white Americans thought this way, in case you didn't know. Even Jean Louise - the girl that's spent years in sophisticated, forward-thinking New York! - says some pretty reprehensible things. But the whole reason he did this (and minor spoiler alert) is because he had to make Jean Louise see that he wasn't perfect, that she shouldn't idolize him, that she needs to be out in the world and make her own opinions so people don't just keep spouting the same bull over and over again. He was telling her, while saying this horrible things, that being your own person means understanding that your parents are not always right.

That's a HUGE thing.

Look, growing up, parents are a huge influence on our lives. Lucky for me, I grew up with parents that accepted people for who they were and told me not to judge someone by their cover. But not all parents are like that. Some pass their own poison down to their children and then those children, if they don't grow up and realize their parents aren't infallible, will continue to pour that poison down the generations. Atticus put a stop to that in a horrific way, but he did put a stop to it. And he was happy about it.

Besides that whole thing, and the fact this book could have used a better editor, the story was resounding, just like TKAM. Jean Louise is trying to grow up and maybe get married, even though she worries about not being able to be "wifely." I get it. I'm terrified to care for my boyfriend and myself because I can't cook worth anything, and what kind of mother would I be? But she's also worried about coming back home and being around people that are, frankly, too stupid to function. The women she reconnects with spew whatever their husbands say they read, even if it's ridiculous and terrible. 

Gosh, just like people today. 

It is interesting to see these people that Jean Louise grew up with turn into something she's not. She says, "We were both born here, we went to the same schools, we were taught the same things. I wonder what you saw and heard." Racism and being a all-around terrible person are strange things. I know some people who are so good and want to change the world for the better, and then their siblings or parents or what have you make remarks that make me wonder what era we're in. 

Jean Louise also tells Atticus, "You are using frightful means to justify ends that you think are for the good of the most people." And that really hit me because *some people* watch a certain news network that uses the same scare tactics, and then those people regurgitate whatever they heard back at me, and when I don't care, I'm suddenly the bad person. Well, no, I don't believe that five women of color dying in police custody within a month is a coincidence and, no, I don't believe that these police officers are acting in "our best interest," so how does that make me a bad person?

The line that resonated with me the most was when Uncle Jack told Jean Louise that "every man's watchman, is his conscience." 

I think many people forget that.

Before I say or do anything, I usually think to myself, would me in five minutes be okay with this? If the answer is no, I keep my mouth shut or don't do what I'm about to do. No one is standing next to me, holding my hand, telling me what is right and what is wrong. I'm the only one that's able to do that now, because I've grown up and my parents can't follow me around anymore. I try to act in a way that would make me proud a few years down the line, and that means treating everyone around me in a good way. I just don't know when that became such a difficult concept for people to grasp onto. Seriously, think about it: how hard is it to, instead of looking at someone's skin and pre-judging them, how about you get to know them? If they're a jerk, walk away. But if they're not, take a few more minutes to get to know them. You'd be surprised.

Okay, my Mr. Rodger's rant is done for the day. I don't know anyone else who has read this book, so I kind of went overboard, but seriously, read this book. Don't concentrate on Atticus being racist or the fact that this was probably published under sinister motives. Take the story as it is: be good to one another. Build a better place for everyone to live in. 

If I could steal some words from one of our greatest philosophers, Jerry Springer: Take care of yourself, and each other.

Damn right, Springer.