Before I start, let me just say that this review contains an Amazon Affiliate link (behold, I’ve placed it right up front so you don’t have to hunt for it at the bottom!). It doesn’t cost you anything extra, but it DOES help me keep the campfire burning here at Gathering Breadcrumbs. You can click the link if you want to toss some change my way, but you can also support me via Ko-Fi and opt to buy the book at your local bookstore instead.
I went into this book being assured by a Tumblr ad that the dog didn’t die in it.
For some people, that’s a massive spoiler (and if you hate spoilers, best duck out now because I’m a Spoiler Slut and you’re going to be getting a few of them). For me, it meant that I could relax and actually enjoy the story. Too often, as soon as I see an animal introduced in a book, I know they’re going to die for a quick, cheap way of pulling on heartstrings. The kids are almost never killed, but the pets? You’d think we’re all keeping dogs and cats as a sort of canary-in-the-coal-mine to let ourselves know when we’re in a horror situation in case the background music doesn’t clue us in.
Now, there are dead (ish) animals in this book, and ABSOLUTELY there are dead people. There’s cannibalism, too (possibly, the definition gets a bit muddied here, and I don’t like othering people or creatures by slapping on a “monster” tag that often, so…I’m going to call it cannibalism), but it all feels…earned. RIGHT. We follow our agender AFAB main character, Lou, along with the bestest pupper that ever puppered, Ripley…and by the time the gore kicks in we’re right there agreeing with Lou’s inner goblin going “Yes, right, this is GOOD actually, consider biting them again.”
Because some people deserve to be bitten.
Lou gets sent out on an assignment to the middle of nowhere by her employer and promptly blows past some of horror’s most iconic “nope, no, turn back now if you don’t want someone to make a lampshade out of your skin” warning signs because they’ve got bills to pay and they had a hard enough time finding THIS job.
And that’s the hell of it, isn’t it? Because our jobs have us out here putting ourselves in dangerous situations no matter WHAT the company rule book says, and they know we’ll risk our lives because we’ve got to put food on the table.
This job is absolutely the horror show their best friend, Emma, warned them it would be. And the entire time Lou is going from one bad situation to another, they’re focused on keeping their dog safe, not worrying their mom back at home that’s already sick and resting, and trying to balance their own survival instincts against what they feel like they SHOULD be doing (Crows, ALWAYS listen to your instincts).
Before this work assignment is over, Lou will:
- Realize having a cell phone does not negate the need to memorize numbers
- Kill a cop
- Be damn lucky to have Emma as a best friend
- Realize they have terrible taste in men
- Eat their feelings about said man
At its heart, this is an anti-capitalism, anti-MLM Appalachian horror story with a dash of Pacific Northwest-style true crime/spookum podcast vibes sprinkled in. And let me just take a moment here to say that I LOVE when books throw in chapter breaks in the style of a podcast, a wiki page, a forum post, texts…whatever. I love the added world flavor we get with stuff like that.
Most importantly, I want you to know that this book nails the ending. It does not somehow manage to take a great story and disappoint you in the last ten unnecessary pages, it delivers ALL THE WAY THROUGH. And that’s important, because the book is only 195 pages long. You can finish this in a single day the way you did when you were a kid and feel damn good about yourself for doing so. The book is tight, the pacing is good, and nothing feels unnecessary. By the end I was hugging my two pitbull mixes and crying, not because I was sad, but because I felt fucking TRIUMPHANT for Lou, Ripley, and Lou’s best friend, Emma.
This book is for you if you:
- Feel like your job, your family, the WORLD is taking little bites out of you
- Have felt the pressure to “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” even though that’s fucking impossible because somehow you have to take care of yourself AND someone depending on you to succeed
- Have ever felt pressured to join a self-help seminar/retreat that costs as much as a mortgage payment
- Strongly suspect that you’d side with the “monster” against the people in a bad situation
- Love the podcast Old Gods of Appalachia
Morsel by Carter Keane has, easily, become one of my new favorite books. You can get it through my Amazon Affiliate link by clicking here, and once you’ve read it I’d love to know what you think!