Kind of a modern day John Wyndham tale, with obvious similarities to Chocky.

I enjoyed it, reminded me of the sort of British SF I enjoyed growing up. ( )

I'm not really a fair one to review this book. I'm not a fan of Science Fiction. I won't describe it as anywhere near terrifying or horrifying, however it was engaging and eerily familiar because it takes place amid a pandemic, climate change devastation and people hoping for a new beginning on a different far-away planet. Elsewhere a large developer has created a highly regimented, communal living/working utopia with "Big Brother" overtones and a doctor is secretly trying to rehabilitate children who recovered from illness and suddenly began hearing "voices" in their heads. Rchel and her son, Billy are one of those that is relocating. Although her life is far from perfect, Rachel is grateful that she and Billy were spared. She's even willing to overlook his newfound imaginary friend "Delfy", who appeared in Billy's head shortly after his recovery. Rachel's acceptance doesn't last long. Soon, Delfy seems to have taken control...telling Billy what to say and do and even more frightening things. Billy realizes what's going on, but he says he's powerless to stop Delfy or ignore her commands. The story takes you on a complete and utter journey into the depths of the horrors and shock of the human mind and its stronghold on a person’s capacity of free will. ( )

From the description I was expecting a horror, but what I got was more of a dystopian sci fi. Maybe that's why I was declined when I first requested an advance copy. The reason I gave for wanting to read this was that I love horror that features creepy kids. Maybe I should have taken the hint that this book was not for me, instead of requesting an advance copy elsewhere.
When young Billy recovers from the mysterious pandemic it's like the miracle that Rachel has prayed for. So many have died from this new virus that she is, at first, willing to overlook the strange behavior that has come with this recovery. The way that Billy seems so obsessed with gaining knowledge can't really be a bad thing can it? Yet soon the voice in Billy's head has moved him from doing inappropriate things to downright aggression and threatening behavior. Rachel seeks help but being poverty stricken leaves her with few options. Enter the doctor who knows more than he is telling, and is willing to treat Billy for free. Meanwhile Rachel's daughter has a new boyfriend who she has met in space skills while preparing to colonize a new planet. They boyfriend has a half sister who also suffered this voice in her head.
While Billy and his strange affliction did hold my interest and Rachel trying to make do while living in poverty is quite relatable I did find myself skimming the bits about space skills.
It was just an OK read for me, but others will probably enjoy it more, especially those who enjoy dystopian sci fi.
I received an advance copy for review. ( )

Imaginary Friends Get a Bad Name

Their bad monicker comes not from being evil little buggers but from being protagonists in a novel that bores more than it thrills. However, after you have waded through nearly 400 pages of domestic strife, dystopian backdrop, a space colonization program, and a flu-like epidemic only to be rewarded with one of the biggest yawner endings in recent memory, should you persevere to the last page, you’ll probably consider this not nearly harsh enough. It’s a shame, too, because this novel had so much potential. After all, what could be scarier than an incurable flu-like disease and menacing children acting in concert?

Set in near future London, the world remains a muddled mess in which the rich seem to have gotten so rich they, or at least the one here, can set up a feudal state of sorts. This serves as a backdrop to the action and part of the cause of Rachel’s and Al’s chronic shortage of cash, no small thing as they have three children, one a baby (Beth, keep an eye on this one), one a teen, Nina, with space fantasy in her eyes, and the last, Billy, six and nearly dead from the disease plaguing the world.

Billy’s one of the fortunate children who recovers. At first, Rachel attributes this to the imaginary friend he seems to have conjured as a psychological device for helping him fight off his illness. It’s not long afterwards that Billy begins doing strange and cruel things, like murdering the near and dear, and then his imaginary friend, Delfy, steps out as an independent personality.

And, as it turns out, Billy isn’t the only child so afflicted. Professor Graham Watson runs a posh psychologist practice and has been secretly treating children like Billy in an underground hospital as he tries to figure out what is controlling these children and causing them to act in unison. He knows quite a bit about imaginary people, as he himself visualizes and carries on conversations with and takes guidance from his long deceased wife.

Then there is the space program, for which Rachel’s daughter Nina, at 16, has been training. The purpose is to set up a base on a geostationary rock hauled into Earth’s orbit. From there, officials plan to launch a multigenerational colonization effort to a far-off exoplanet. Unbeknownst to all but a few, this plan is well on its way to fulfillment, and several astronauts have been back and forth to the rock. Above board, this would raise no suspicions. But key aspects kept secret and a major backer the aforementioned feudal lord, these fuel all kinds of suspicions related to the disease that young Nina and a cohort of youths cracks. And like many novels of this sort, when you think you’ve finally put the whole affair to rest, a new wrinkle pops up at the end that should startle the bejesus out of us, but only makes us think we might have to endure another 400 pages of domestic strife, dystopian backdrop, blah, blah, blah, in a sequel.

Oh, forgot to mention spiders. What an oversight, since they play a conspicuous role.

Perhaps with less domestic handwringing, much pretty repetitive, children acting in more menacing ways, and a more sharply drawn evil overlord, as opposed to the bland one here, We Hear Voices might have delivered the chills readers seek rather than the desperate desire to reach the end. Read only if you can’t resist plagues and aliens.
( )

Imaginary Friends Get a Bad Name

Their bad monicker comes not from being evil little buggers but from being protagonists in a novel that bores more than it thrills. However, after you have waded through nearly 400 pages of domestic strife, dystopian backdrop, a space colonization program, and a flu-like epidemic only to be rewarded with one of the biggest yawner endings in recent memory, should you persevere to the last page, you’ll probably consider this not nearly harsh enough. It’s a shame, too, because this novel had so much potential. After all, what could be scarier than an incurable flu-like disease and menacing children acting in concert?

Set in near future London, the world remains a muddled mess in which the rich seem to have gotten so rich they, or at least the one here, can set up a feudal state of sorts. This serves as a backdrop to the action and part of the cause of Rachel’s and Al’s chronic shortage of cash, no small thing as they have three children, one a baby (Beth, keep an eye on this one), one a teen, Nina, with space fantasy in her eyes, and the last, Billy, six and nearly dead from the disease plaguing the world.

Billy’s one of the fortunate children who recovers. At first, Rachel attributes this to the imaginary friend he seems to have conjured as a psychological device for helping him fight off his illness. It’s not long afterwards that Billy begins doing strange and cruel things, like murdering the near and dear, and then his imaginary friend, Delfy, steps out as an independent personality.

And, as it turns out, Billy isn’t the only child so afflicted. Professor Graham Watson runs a posh psychologist practice and has been secretly treating children like Billy in an underground hospital as he tries to figure out what is controlling these children and causing them to act in unison. He knows quite a bit about imaginary people, as he himself visualizes and carries on conversations with and takes guidance from his long deceased wife.

Then there is the space program, for which Rachel’s daughter Nina, at 16, has been training. The purpose is to set up a base on a geostationary rock hauled into Earth’s orbit. From there, officials plan to launch a multigenerational colonization effort to a far-off exoplanet. Unbeknownst to all but a few, this plan is well on its way to fulfillment, and several astronauts have been back and forth to the rock. Above board, this would raise no suspicions. But key aspects kept secret and a major backer the aforementioned feudal lord, these fuel all kinds of suspicions related to the disease that young Nina and a cohort of youths cracks. And like many novels of this sort, when you think you’ve finally put the whole affair to rest, a new wrinkle pops up at the end that should startle the bejesus out of us, but only makes us think we might have to endure another 400 pages of domestic strife, dystopian backdrop, blah, blah, blah, in a sequel.

Oh, forgot to mention spiders. What an oversight, since they play a conspicuous role.

Perhaps with less domestic handwringing, much pretty repetitive, children acting in more menacing ways, and a more sharply drawn evil overlord, as opposed to the bland one here, We Hear Voices might have delivered the chills readers seek rather than the desperate desire to reach the end. Read only if you can’t resist plagues and aliens.
( )