Writing and Reading

That would be you, L.B. Goddard. I think it’s about time I discuss the essence that is you in this post, this new category of literary reviews. For all you readers out there, meet L.B. Goddard, a Goddess of Shadows, harbinger of horror, the head cheese of the fabulously done indy horror e-zine “The Monsters Next Door”. And just an all-around sweet girl . Seriously, Lindsey’s quite normal. She just has a passion for suspenseful, uncompromising horror. Not splatterpunk, though. Her work masks the bloody veil effectively, actually. That sometimes is indeed a valued talent when it comes to horror writing–where the evils of the world want us to keep our eyes open rather than shut. A lot of blood we see can shut our eyes sometimes….

A few minutes ago, I read her most recent published short story “Holiday Ritual”. I’ll never look at pumpkin pie the same again. You see, Lindsey has this uncanny ability to pack a major story into one small plot. It’s only 2,238 words long. But there’s a 50,000-word novel in there. Basically. That brings out that most remarkable characteristic I’ve mentioned before–the ability to lead us somewhere without knowing where we’re going. Only she knew. That’s the terrifying part. Not even the narrator, Judy, knew. That was also the terrifying part. The other main character (probably the ‘true’ major character of the story) Carolyn knew, though. And that’s the most terrifying part of it all. Because we didn’t. But we knew she did.

The plot of the story is simple. It’s Halloween. Judy and her friend Carolyn were baking a pie and enjoying the night when Carolyn then randomly, shockingly, mentions that it’s time to go see Jacob. See Jacob to bring him his pumpkin pie. It was the holiday ritual.

The problem is Jacob’s dead. Has been for a year. Right off the bat, I blinked. Now I’m in it for the long haul (which isn’t that long, easy read and all, 2,238 words). And I’m worried. And Lindsey has a manner of underplaying something so much that it mortifies me. Because Carolyn is so calm. And Judy is so…well…not! I mean, how would you be if your best friend suddenly mentioned that she was going to see her dead son? Something’s dreadfully wrong.

To give you a little background, Judy is a mother of two boys. Carolyn only had one. And he’s dead. Died on Halloween, actually. So, naturally, Judy doesn’t have much fondness for the holiday. Last year’s Halloween wasn’t that much fun. Got me? Carolyn’s her friend. And seeing her friend lose her child hurt her, too.

Not to go into too much detail, Carolyn and Judy drive out into the woods by a towering barn, bringing the pumpkin pie. Of course, Judy is panicking, thinking Carolyn has lost her mind. Her son is dead. And she’s going to see him. Surely, she’s lost her mind.

They trek into the woods. They find him. He’s a skeleton laying on the floor.

Carolyn gives her son the pumpkin pie, the pie he never had a chance to eat last year. Because Judy’s two boys accidentally drove him into the woods, drove him up a tree, teasing and teasing him! It was a shame that one of the branches had to crack, sending poor Jacob down, breaking his leg, left to die. It was also a shame the two boys had left before it happened, not knowing where he was.

Carolyn knew about it. Somehow.

Frighteningly, Jacob rises with his bones, just a skeletal mass, “mechanically” devouring his pie given to him by his mother. That’s actually a terrifying image. “Mechanically”. And once he was done, Carolyn calmed her son down, wanting him to go back to sleep, back to sleep for another year. Until the next Halloween. When they repeat the ritual again.

Our safe, little bodies, our souls, are shattered when Carolyn pulls out her knife and then asks the question, ending the short story effectively, after Jacob eerily goes back to sleep, crumbling to dust deep within the forest–

“Now…how to dispose of dear Judy?”

What I found interesting about that is Lindsey omitted the quotes. It’s a question posed by the narrator. The scary thing about that is Judy is the narrator. At least up until that last line….

It’s an effective way of sealing the story without actually using dialogue. It resonates with us without using a ‘human’ voice. Rather, the fact that she pulled the quotes out of there made it feel like a ‘darker’ voice. An evil voice. Or better yet–a voice of vengeance.

Because, really, “Holiday Ritual” is a story about vengeance. Hence the term “ritual”. Because, unfortunately, vengeance is ritualistic. It never ends. It never dies. Much like how Jacob never ‘died’. He’ll always rise again and again…right on Halloween.

Bravo, Lindsey. It’s great stuff, really. There’s nothing better than an easy read. And that’s an easy read. Plus you’ve stapled it to a holiday that’s always a lot of fun for everyone. That’s a ‘ghost’ story for the ages right there.

But, seriously, Linds. I. DO. NOT. LIKE. PUMPKIN PIE. ANYMORE. Damn you.