In Seidlinger’s (
My Pet Serial Killer) newest, an engaging, nameless narrator bluntly presents the record of a family being terrorized by home invaders for 48 hours. This narrator, an expert home invader, speaks directly to the reader—or is it to the novice invader whom the narrator is directing through his first “performance”? That ambiguity is key to the appeal as readers become rapt, watching as nameless invaders plan, stalk, taunt, and torture the depersonalized victims. The invaders are motivated solely by the performance itself and by the chance that a big studio will turn the events into a movie. The refreshingly awesome and yet extremely horrific fact at the heart of this tale is that it is exactly what it claims to be; there is no twist.
VERDICT With a last line that fully implicates readers in the extreme horror they just saw, this is a story that will leave audiences terrorized and broken but also surprisingly grateful for the unique experience, much like Paul Tremblay’s critically acclaimed Cabin at the End of the World and Eric LaRocca’s Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke.
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