Along with fearless friends DeAnna Knippling and Shannon Lawrence, I am making my way through “Nightmare Magazine’s Top 100 Horror Books.”
This time out, I read Nightworld, a Repairman Jack novel by F. Paul Wilson.
My only complaint is that this is the last book in the Repairman Jack series, and now I have to go back and read them all, even though I now know how they’ll ultimately end.
Oh, who am I kidding? By the time I circle back around to the rest of the series, I will have forgotten most of the important bits.
When this book opens, if you’re unfamiliar with the series, then there are a million different ways it could go. It opens with the sun rising late one morning. Catastrophic climate change? Aliens? The end of the world? Black magic?
So the sun is rising late and setting early. Then these giant sinkholes open up, first in NYC but then around the world. And horrors start creeping out during the hours of darkness. Which, remember, are steadily increasing as the days get shorter.
One thing I unashamedly love is a good ensemble cast of characters. Hey, if it’s good enough for Buffy, it’s good enough for me! But even when you have a climax pitting one “good” person against one “evil” being, well, that person didn’t get there on his own. He didn’t get there without the help and luck and sacrifice of a lot of other characters. Damn it, now I really need to read the rest of this series so I can get the back story on all these people.
I am also a sucker for justice, especially on the small-scale. So if someone with questionable moral fiber hatches a plot to exploit or profit from the coming disaster, I enjoy seeing him get his ass handed to him. Especially if it’s a fate worse than death.
Good old-fashioned monsters. Yup, that’s what I like. Lovecraftian-influenced horrors that only come out at night, things with squishy bodies and too many teeth, slithering and flying (and swimming) about in the dark, tapping at your windows, scratching at your door.
Did I have any quibbles? As usual, the women are mostly minor players. They chiefly serve as the ones who need to be protected, although you will be slightly bludgeoned by the mother-child, mama bear stereotype. Repeatedly. I guess women can only be tough if they have a child to protect. That isn’t something that struck me while I was reading the book, but stuck out when I reflected back on the characters in the story to write this review.
Also, the world-wide implications of lessening daylight were somewhat glossed over. They were mentioned, but didn’t seem to really impact any of the main characters. Not that I think the author necessarily had time and space to put all that in, but I missed it. But I’m a fan of dystopian and post-apocalyptic stories, so a lot of questions occurred to me that might not bother other readers.
Onward and upward. This was a book that would make me look under the bed before shutting off the light at night.