Are You Enjoying? by Mira Sethi paints a fresh image of Pakistan that inverts traditional assumptions, offering a funny, complicated and nuanced portrayal of the country. There is a great challenge to breaking away from the past, which many of the characters encounter. The short story collection uses relationships (romantic and otherwise) to explore the
It is now six years since the secret disaster at Jurassic Park, six years since the extraordinary dream of science and imagination came to a crashing end – the dinosaurs destroyed, the park dismantled, the island indefinitely closed to the public. There are rumors that something has survived…. When Folio Society announced that they had
Call me Pinky. My pregnant wife slipped on some afterbirth and fell down the stairs of our Napa Valley bungalow. When she gave birth to our son, William Fontaine III, he had a dent the shape of Mississippi in his forehead. That’s where his grand-pappy, his namesake, is from. We considered it a miracle. What’s
Roscoe was carrying the dead thing. The dead thing was in his possession now, and that was all that mattered. The dogs were following still, but at a wary distance. He’d have felt better if he’d had some sausages to throw them, but he could hardly blame himself for that. None of this had been
Bram Stoker’s Dracula is a book that every horror fan should read. Illustration ©Angela Barrett from The Folio Society edition of Dracula It’s a classic after all, and as a horror author I felt a slight bit of shame that I’d not read it before, but I’m glad that I rectified that with the Folio Society edition
Our father was a big-wig at the Oregon Fish Commission, and the freezer in our spacious mock Tudor home in Clackamas was always chock full with wild salmon and bull trout. My twin brother Jake and I gorged on the rich bouillabaisse and fricassee dishes that our mother served up each evening at exactly seven
Pushing the boundaries of the traditional whodunnit tale, I Know What I Saw by Imran Mahmood is a remarkable story of grief and memory. “When I remember my life before, I am really reimagining it, in flashes, in tiny abstract glimpses. And in that memory, I compose my own rhythm close enough to match the
The Slasher genre has a mythic status for some, and it is easy to see why: few genres encapsulate the primal fears and survival urge of the human race, and women in particular, the way a Slasher does. Grady Hendrix’s latest novel The Final Girl Support Group goes some way to answering the question of
“Smile! Everyone’s waiting, young man.” She was mad at me again, and it was my fault— again. Camera in hand, she was trying to take a photo of the four of us and I wouldn’t, or couldn’t smile. My eyes were red and I felt self-conscious. Who wants a photo taken of themselves when they
Dwight hovered in front of the vending machine. Oversalted chips, over-sugared candy bars, or the caloric emptiness of gum. Why did the hospital offer such faux nutritional alternatives; wasn’t that a conflict of interest? When he was a kid, vending machines meant something exotic or exciting. The rare trips to Father’s workplace had always involved
