Book Reviews

The Plot

An isolated kid wrestles with whether to embrace or mistrust a strange new friend—one who appears from nowhere and is clearly alive, yet seems to be made of featureless clay. Why is no one else noticing the strange things happening? And who can help? This chilling, all-too-relatable story of adolescent pain dips into the supernatural with an X-Files monster-of-the-week vibe. It’s an excellent read for kids who love a thrill and suspense but aren’t quite ready for gore, intense psychological twists, or adult relationship drama.

Sixth grader Casey Wilson has emerged from the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic with crippling anxiety and a litany of physical tics—exacerbated by what has come to be known as “The Zoom Incident.” He’s lost his few friends and become the school pariah. When his parents bring home a vintage rotary phone (cue charming scene of them trying to explain it to their Gen Alpha son), a mysterious call sets the story in motion.

Later that day, a man arrives at Casey’s house with a boy in tow (literally). The man claims that his son, Morel, will be spending spring break with Casey and his family. Casey is surprised and confused for a few completely valid reasons. In reverse order of red flags:

🚩 Casey’s mom agrees to the arrangement without hesitation.

🚩🚩Casey doesn’t have any friends.

🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩Morel emerges from a burlap sack.

Morel is smooth and clay-like at first, but slowly begins to change. He develops features, a voice, a personality—all seemingly absorbed from Casey himself. As they bond over video games and drawing, Morel becomes more human…while Casey begins to fade. He’s exhausted, plagued by nightmares, and increasingly invisible to his own parents, who are now doting on Morel.

What follows is a story of slow-burning dread as Casey struggles to figure out what’s happening to him. Is Morel the villain, or just another victim? Can Casey trust anyone? Can he even trust himself?

Defining the genre.

I’ve read all of Tremblay’s books, which fall squarely into the horror category and are delightfully disturbing and often legit scary. Like with all my favorite authors, I don’t even skim the back cover when they drop a new title—I just dive in. As I was getting into Another, I noticed some subtle shifts in tone, language, and intensity from what I have come to expect from this writer. The gore was dialed back. The themes were still dark, but less psychologically twisted than I’ve come to expect from Tremblay’s work. I actually paused at one point to double-check the genre classification—was this YA?

Tremblay’s stories often feature children or teens, but usually alongside adult counterparts or in reflective flashbacks. Another felt different—the narrative stays entirely in Casey’s perspective. While still atmospheric and eerie, there’s something gentler here, more contained—yet no less effective. I didn’t think it quite fit the mold of traditional YA horror either, mostly because YA these days often seems to blur the line between teen and adult content. It’s tough up here on the other side of 40, y’all.

Turns out, Another is classified as middle grade horror—and that makes absolute sense. If I had discovered this story as a kid—somewhere between devouring Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (with the lights on), Christopher Pike, and R.L. Stine’s spicier work (I never really got into Goosebumps, but it seems like a fair comparison—it’s kind of “diet Supernatural,” right?)—I would’ve been obsessed. Even now, as an adult who has read some of the most intense and disturbing horror out there, I couldn’t put this down. I finished it in a single day. It’s spooky, thoughtful, and just restrained enough to be unsettling without overwhelming.

The Characters

🛑 MILD SPOILERS HERE!! 🛑

As always, Tremblay’s portrayal of kids is spot-on. Whether he’s writing a middle-schooler, a teen, or an eight-year-old girl (see A Head Full of Ghosts), he captures the quirks, emotions, and idiosyncrasies that make each character feel real. His young characters are never just sidekicks or set dressing—they’re fully developed, genuine and complex, and your heart breaks for them.

Casey and his family are incredibly relatable. So often in horror or supernatural stories, there’s a dark family secret, a hidden skeleton in the closet, or someone turns out to be a murderer, has secret parentage, or wields forbidden magic. But the Wilsons are just a regular family trying their best—navigating a global pandemic, supporting a neurodivergent child, and finding small ways to keep joy alive in their daily routine.

Morel is a fantastic antagonist because you never quite know what he is. Is he evil? Is he misunderstood? Is he even aware of what he’s doing? There are moments when he shows empathy, even sorrow. But just as quickly, he’ll turn threatening or manipulative. He’s eerie, unpredictable, and weirdly compelling.

Casey’s sister, Allie, is set up as the one clear-headed character with a real shot at figuring out what’s going on. Allie is away at college, and most of the exchanges between her and Casey are via text. She obviously cares about Casey, and she’s asking all the right questions as Casey struggles to convey what is happening at home. While she seems too busy to fully dive into the mystery, we get just enough from her to believe she’s going to piece it all together and swoop in to save the day.

But if you’ve read Tremblay before, you know better than to get too comfortable. Happy endings are never guaranteed.

We slowly realize that no one is coming to save Casey. He has no friends, his parents are oblivious, his sister is away at college and busy with her own life, and he’s completely on his own. There’s something uniquely terrifying—and empowering—about that. The horror here isn’t just supernatural; it’s emotional. It’s the realization that sometimes you can’t wait for help. You have to fight for yourself.

One of the reasons I love Paul Tremblay is that each of his books has a unique structure, style, and character arc. Every time I pick up one of his books, I have no idea how it’s going to turn out. There are through lines across his work, much like Stephen King’s interconnected characters and stories—sometimes subtly woven in, sometimes overt. It’s also one of the reasons I love horror as a genre. Most other categories follow a formula that readers come to expect, especially the various “cozy” subgenres, like romance or my personal favorite, cozy mysteries. But horror? Horror can go anywhere.

My Perspective

The main action of the book ends on a very satisfying note—without giving away or explaining every detail—another of Tremblay’s specialties. He leaves a little open to interpretation, just enough ambiguity for your imagination to run wild… for better or for worse.

That said, there’s a kind of “post-credits” scene at the end that, for me, slightly weakened the story’s emotional landing. I can think of a couple of reasons this might be the case:

• There’s a planned sequel, and this directly ties into it.
• A developmental editor somewhere (👋🏻) told the author or publisher that there needed to be some kind of follow-up to give the reader a sense of closure—like, “Don’t worry, someone is still out there fighting the good fight.”

It wasn’t a dealbreaker by any means—just a small detour after an otherwise powerful conclusion.

Overall, the story is gripping and suspenseful. There’s no drag time—the tension builds steadily, and while you’ll find yourself internally screaming for someone to help this kid, it’s incredibly rewarding (and refreshing) to see him find himself and the inner strength to realize that who he is…is all he needs to be.

Another is a quick, absorbing read that’s eerie and emotional in all the right ways. I’d recommend it to any adult horror fan who grew up on Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and wants something atmospheric but not extreme. And while I’m not a parent, I was once a kid who loved spooky stories—and that kid would’ve devoured this one.

You can find Another and more of Paul Tremblay’s books at Bookshop.org, a site that supports independent bookstores and helps local shops compete online.

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First published on February 25, 2014, The Troop by Nick Cutter is a grotesque, pulse-pounding survival horror so intense you deserve a merit badge just for finishing it.

The Plot

When a group of teenage Scouts head out for a weekend camping trip on a remote island off the coast of Prince Edward Island, they’re not expecting body horror, grotesque parasites, or psychological meltdowns—but that’s exactly what’s on the menu. Cut off from help, the troop must survive not only what’s hunting them from the outside, but what begins to surface from within. It’s gory, it’s grim, and it pulls zero punches.

It’s like Lord of the Flies wandered into a Cronenberg nightmare.

More Than Just Gore

This isn’t just gore for gore’s sake. Cutter’s writing is concise, unflinching, and emotionally powerful. He masterfully captures the secret thoughts and lives of adolescent boys—their insecurities, loyalties, and desperate, unspoken need for acceptance. Each boy’s backstory is seamlessly woven in, revealing how their unique emotional wiring determines who cracks and who endures.

The Troop is more than a horror novel—it’s a brutal, brilliant character study wrapped up in a monster story. Equal parts gripping and grotesque, this story will leave you shaken, haunted, and grateful you made it out alive.

Should You Read It?

This is a must-read for hard-core horror fans, as it’s destined to worm its way onto every “scariest book” list for years to come.

QUICK WARNING: If you struggle with animals in distress, give this one a miss. 😳

From My Perspective

While I can’t say I enjoyed this book in the traditional sense—thanks to my aversion to body horror, phobic paralysis around anything worm-adjacent, and extreme empathy for animals (yes, there are children in peril too, but… meh)—I will say that Nick Cutter’s writing enthralls me. Luckily, he also writes literary fiction and not just the most demented nightmare fuel imaginable.

About the Author

Nick Cutter is a pen name used by writer Craig Davidson for his horror fiction. Davidson is the author of several short stories and novels, such as Cascade, Rust and Bone, and The Saturday Night Ghost Club, which deals with ghosts and the occult, but it’s more atmospheric and eerie as opposed to scary—I call this “diet horror.”

Cutter has published a few more horror novels since The Troop, starting with the follow-up novel, The Deep, published in 2015, and, according to most reviews, it’s just as terrifying as The Troop.

My favorite review of The Deep on Goodreads by Kat reads: “i hope nick cutter is prepared to pay for all the f@#*ing therapy im gonna need bc of this book.”

Maybe someone else can read that one and report back—because I need a few years to recover before diving into something that disturbing again.

The Troop is available at bookshop.org, a site that gives independent bookstores the tools to compete online and the financial support they need to maintain a presence in their local communities.

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