Michael Rowe (1) (1962–)

Wild Fell begins in the small town of Alvina, Ontario, in 1960, when Sean Schwartz asks his high school sweetheart, Brenda Egan, if she believes in ghosts. Whether he’s trying to scare her into cuddling closer, looking for some excitement to end the summer before school begins again, or is entirely sincere in his question, his question is a prelude to asking Brenda if she’ll cross a mile of Devil’s Lake to Blackmore Island to explore the remains of a mansion called Wild Fell. It takes show more some persuading, but Brenda reluctantly agrees, only to change her mind when they’re halfway there, suddenly frightened. Sean is disappointed, maybe angry, but the evening is saved by an illicit bottle of wine and a bonfire. But Wild Fell isn’t done with them, and the curtain of the prologue falls as a legend begins.

Michael Rowe sets his hook firmly with this prologue, but then he lets the line out for a nice long run. Jameson Browning — Jamie — tells us the story in the first person, starting, “I want to teach you about fear.” That sentence recedes from the reader’s mind as Jamie relates the story of his childhood in Alvina with a warm, loving father and a cold, unhappy mother. He is a reclusive child with only one real friend, Hank. Hank is really named Lucinda, but she doesn’t much want to be a girl, as she’s recently demonstrated by cutting off her hair. Hank is better at being a boy than Jamie is, really, and their friendship is a true one that involves no secrets.

Well, except for one: Jamie never tells Hank about Amanda, the girl who lives in his mirror. Amanda has Jamie’s face and speaks in his voice, but she’s completely real. She started as an imaginary playmate of Jamie’s own gender, someone to share victories and grievances with. But when eight-year-old Jamie complains to his mirror that his bike has been stolen by an older child, the presence in the mirror becomes a separate person, not an echo. She still uses his throat, his voice, but the words she speaks are not his, and the reflection in the mirror is not of his body or his room. She asks what he wants to happen to the boy who stole his bike, and Jamie says he wants the kid to just shut up and give him his bike back. Amanda promises that this will happen. And it does. Oh, boy, does it ever.

We don’t find out who Amanda is for a long time, not for the rest of Jamie’s childhood, not during his young adulthood in Toronto, not until much later when he returns to Alvina. In the meantime, though, we come to enjoy Jamie’s company. We see him through college and into marriage and a teaching career; being cared for and then caring for his father; and, ultimately, making a purchase in Alvina that will decide his fate. Always, lurking in the background, whether he acknowledges her or not, Amanda haunts his steps. By the time we find out who she was, and what she wants with Jamie, it feels like she’s meddling with a good friend.

Rowe has meticulously plotted this ghost story, so that nothing feels extraneous and every word seems carefully chosen. There is a sexual ambiguity to Jamie that colors the story, but is never overt, a suggestion; just as the violence is muted, always offstage and related to Jamie afterwards. The horror in this story isn’t graphic, but it is very much present.

Rowe writes beautifully, with words that draw pictures and bring memories to life. Here, for example, is a passage describing Alvina, and other small summer resort towns, from the prologue:

"Legends begin in small northern towns on the edge of places other people only drive through on their way to somewhere else, in station wagons and vans full of summer gear: Muskoka chairs in bright summer colours, coolers full of beer, canvas bags bursting with swimsuits and shorts and t-shirts, and dogs who slumber on blankets in the back seat and are bored by the entire process of long car trips.

"Towns pass by that are the sum of their parts, and their parts are bridges, barns, fields, and roadside stands where home-baked pies or fresh ice cream are sole in the summer, and pumpkins, sweet corn, and Indian corn in the autumn. These towns are for gas stations that are distance markers for exhausted parents, where the kids can have one final bathroom break before the last stretch of highway leading to driveways that in turn lead to front doors and lake views….

"The towns they pass might as well be shell facades, their residents merely extras in a movie called Our Drive Up North to the Cottage, a movie with annual sequels whose totality makes up a lifetime of holiday memories."

When I was a child, we had a place we visited during the summer that was just like that, though a country away. And when I was a child, the ends of long summer evenings, those long, slow twilights during which the shadows got longer and longer, and anything could be hiding behind the bridal veil or under the willow fronds, were eerie and frightening. That feeling, too, is what Rowe has captured in this novel, a lingering, cold dread.

Wild Fell is one of the best books of 2013. And Rowe is a talent to watch.

Originally published at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/reviews/wild-fell/ show less

I loved this book so freaking much! So. Freaking. Much.
 
Sweetheart, Sweetheart was originally published back in the late 70's. It was brought back by Leisure Books in the 90's and has now been brought back again by Valancourt Books. (Perhaps you've heard me talk about them in the past?) This edition has a new, kickass cover and an even more kickass introduction from the lovely Michael Rowe. (A fantastic author of the macabre in his own right.)
 
The intro was more of a love letter to the show more story and to the author. It's not spoiler-y so you can read it before reading the story, if you like.

Here's a brief excerpt of the intro:

So, instead of writing a cool, detached introduction, I feel like a child holding out a Christmas gift, bursting to tell you what's inside so you can be as excited to receive it as I am to give it, impatient for you to open it. This particular present however, is wrapped in rose petals, not paper, and the ribbon is made of sharp wire and broken glass, not grosgrain, so please be careful not to cut yourself while unwrapping it.

 After finishing the book, I could not possibly agree more.
 
So, on to the story! Dave has a bad feeling about his twin brother who still lives back home in the U.K. Enough so that he leaves his fiancee in America to make the trek to check on his family. All is not well with them and David's quick trip turns into an extended stay. That's all I can say about the plot.
 
This story is beautifully, I say beautifully written.  Mr. Taylor's ability to create a creepy atmosphere is nearly unmatched. (Though Mr. Rowe does it wonderfully in his book Wild Fell.) For instance this brief little clip: 
 

"There I sat in the living-room, the scotch bottle at my side, I felt only that accustomed welcome and comfort surrounding me. The coldness, the chill, was inside me."

 
This book quietly builds the atmosphere and horror of discovering that all is NOT what it seems to be. It nearly drips with suspense as the final chapters are doled out and just when you think you can't take it anymore, POW! It punches you in the face and then it stomps on you some more when you go down. The reader is left sitting there alone, stunned, saddened and delighted all at once. This is one you can't miss. 
 
In the end, this is a ghost story. Charles L. Grant named it his favorite ghost story of all time, and Mr. Grant knew quiet horror better than almost anyone. If you're looking for a lot of gore and a lightning fast pace, look elsewhere. However, if you're looking for a classic, slow building, atmospheric, beautifully written ghost story you, my friend, have just found it.
 
My highest recommendation! show less

After the death of her husband, Christine Parr is forced to return to Parr's Landing, the small town she grew up in, with her daughter, Morgan. Her brother-in-law, Jeremy Parr, has chosen to return with them in hopes of protecting them from his domineering mother, Adeline, the matriarch of the town.

Unfortunately, they are not the only ones returning to Parr's Landing. Three hundred years ago, something terrible happened there. The Church believed that the native population had killed show more priests sent to the area The native peoples believed it was a Wendigo, a cannibalistic spirit brought by the Black Robes themselves. They were both wrong and, for centuries, it has lain dormant waiting for a chance to return but now it's back and very, very hungry.

Author Michael Rowe has taken the vampire story and, by combining it with the native Wendigo legend, has given new life into a frankly overworked and tired genre. These are definitely not the sparkly emo vampires so popular in fiction today and this is no paranormal romance - Rowe's vampires, if you'll forgive the pun, have teeth and they are not afraid to use them.

But, perhaps the most surprising aspect of this book is the characters. Most horror is plot-driven with little thought to the characters who are usually pretty one-dimensional - the bad guys get killed in horrible bloody ways and the good guys eventually kill the monster and sail off into the sunset having save the day. Not so Enter, Night - Rowe has a real knack for creating three-dimensional characters with whom the reader can easily relate. What's more, he is not afraid to kill off these characters if the story demands it making it impossible to predict the eventual outcome.

That is not to say that Enter, Night lacks gore and fright - there's plenty of both to keep even the most hardened horror fan in blood-soaked heaven. But the writing and characters put this a huge step up from your average horror novel making it the perfect read to add a few more chills in a long winter's night. show less

4.5 stars!

A friend of mine in the Amazon Horror Forum recommended that I read this book. It took me a while, but I finally did. It was amazing!

Parr's Landing. The recently widowed Christina is headed there, with her daughter Morgan and brother-in-law Jeremy. The town from which Christina and her husband Jack fled when Christina realized she was pregnant, 15 some odd years ago. I loved the characters of Christina, Jeremy and Morgan. I loved this passage:

"Christina had been dreaming of Jack show more almost nightly in the nine months since the accident. The dreams varied in scale and intensity like music, from the highest soprano pitch of remembered fragments of joy, to the deepest, lowest basso profundo of grief and loss. From the latter, she would wake up sobbing, her throat dry and raw as though she had been swallowing graveyard dirt, feeling as if she were buried alive, and the darkness of her bedroom a sealed, airless coffin."

Christina and Jeremy HATE Parr's Landing, mostly due to Jeremy's mother, Adeline Parr. A harsher bitch you could not find. Her lofty airs and her superior attitude made her a character I could hardly stand to read about. The town is named after her and she won't let anyone ever forget it. Unfortunately, between them Jeremy and Christina can barely scrape together a dime, so they have no choice but to go back home to the town and the woman they both hate.

Once they all arrive, the weirdness begins. I don't want to spoil anything, but I will throw out the words Wendigo, Ojibwa, vampires and ancient evil. The story accelerates quickly at this point and it was quite difficult to put this book down. The prose is outstanding as is the character development.

As the story progresses, one can't help but think about other books that are similar. Salem's Lot for instance. However, the ideas in this book are unique and in my opinion, it gives Salem's Lot a run for its money.

Overall, I am jacked about this book! Thanks to my friend J.K, over at Amazon for bringing this book to my attention. I will definitely be reading the next book from this author. I highly recommend Enter, Night. You won't be disappointed. show less