What are you reading in 2026?

[Richards]

Finished book 3 of Jonathan Maberry's "Rot & Ruin" zombie series, so it's on to book 4: Fire & Ash.

Johnathan

 

[Alzrius]

I just finished The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook, which is book three of the Dungeon Crawler Carl series.

I enjoyed this one, but felt like the bloom was beginning to come off of the rose somewhat. The author, Matt Dinniman, seemed to get a little too caught up in explaining the incredibly-complicated layout of this particular dungeon floor. I know that this was because the setup needed to be established in order for Carl and company to then confound what was happening and turn things in their favor, but it really felt like it was being forced in this book.

Or perhaps not so much "forced" as "egregious" in terms of how much setup there was. You know those videos of the long sequences of dominos, where they all knock each other over in long trails that make various shapes and designs? Now imagine watching someone set one of those up—one domino at a time—before you get to see the first domino be knocked over. That's what it was like.

Also, since my local library was taking too long with the copy I had on order there, I picked up the ebook version instead. I'm a tad miffed at having done so, because apparently the bits of the Backstage at the Pineapple Cabaret novella—which takes place concurrent to the main story—isn't part of that, being specific to the physical copies published by Penguin Random House's Ace imprint. At least I didn't cancel the copy on order through my local library, though now I'll be picking it up just to read that part of the novella.

 

[gnarlygninja]

I just finished The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook, which is book three of the Dungeon Crawler Carl series.

I enjoyed this one, but felt like the bloom was beginning to come off of the rose somewhat. The author, Matt Dinniman, seemed to get a little too caught up in explaining the incredibly-complicated layout of this particular dungeon floor. I know that this was because the setup needed to be established in order for Carl and company to then confound what was happening and turn things in their favor, but it really felt like it was being forced in this book.

Or perhaps not so much "forced" as "egregious" in terms of how much setup there was. You know those videos of the long sequences of dominos, where they all knock each other over in long trails that make various shapes and designs? Now imagine watching someone set one of those up—one domino at a time—before you get to see the first domino be knocked over. That's what it was like.

Also, since my local library was taking too long with the copy I had on order there, I picked up the ebook version instead. I'm a tad miffed at having done so, because apparently the bits of the Backstage at the Pineapple Cabaret novella—which takes place concurrent to the main story—isn't part of that, being specific to the physical copies published by Penguin Random House's Ace imprint. At least I didn't cancel the copy on order through my local library, though now I'll be picking it up just to read that part of the novella.

Book 3 is my least favorite of them for this reason. It never gets that bad again, but this does seem to be a behavior he has trouble reigning in sometimes.

 

[Eyes of Nine]

Just got twelve months from library - looking forward to opening the spoilers in this thread later this week. Just have to finish current vol of Rivers of London.

 

[overgeeked]

Just finished Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh! It’s a great read if you like orks in WH40k. Lots of nice insight and lore drops on the hows and whys of orks. Well written with good use of chapters, POV characters and changes, etc.

Something about certain tie-in novels that just sings. Maybe they’re painted red so just go faster. Not in the sense of a quick read, which this was. But in the sense of getting on with the story instead of slow walking everything. Don’t slow down the story with all the pointless details. It doesn’t help me get immersed. Getting on with the story is what gets me immersed. Keep things moving and make me need to know what happens next. I find a higher hit to miss ratio with tie-in novels in this regard. Don’t know why. Just do.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

I just finished Grady Hendrix's Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires.

This was my first Hendrix book and, based on his other titles, I was expecting this to be a modern take on a salacious 1970s horror paperback. Instead, it's something both less and more ambitious.

The plot outline is absolutely the most bog standard vampire tale, with a mysterious and charismatic figure insinuating himself into a community, suspicious activity happening, the protagonist figuring out something is wrong, but the vampire relies on key elements of the local environment to throw off suspicion, isolating the protagonist until it's almost too late to stop them, when they're able to rally some friends and fight back.

That's the plot of dozens of vampire stories, including Fright Night. In the Fright Night remake (which is excellent), Jerry the Vampire uses a rapidly emptying suburban housing tract during the 2008 housing crisis as cover for his murders. Did the neighbors vanish overnight because they were killed by a vampire or because they were running from creditors?

In Southern Book Club, what the vampire uses is the political/cultural climate in early 1990s Charleston, South Carolina, where White suburban women are expected to be housewives obsessed with propriety and maintaining a pleasant facade for the outside world, where even the women don't take each other seriously, and where the lives of Black people, especially Black women, are someone else's problem and ignored by both the authorities and White society in general.

So the vampire is able to prey on Black children without fear of police or larger Charleston society getting involved and when the White protagonist steps up, her friends mostly crumble in the face of their husbands getting embarrassed by the commotion they're causing. The book club of the title are first and foremost victims of the patriarchy, although they'd be never identify it as such, and are complicit in Charleston's low level racism that allows the vampire to kill multiple children that we know about.

Hendrix's mother grew up in a world like this (as did my mom), and the book isn't unsympathetic towards these women, but recognizes that they're victims as well. It's a different kind of feminist vampire story than Lucy Undying, which I read last year, but in some ways more powerful. It's easy to be a feminist character in horror when you're a century-old vampire or the heir to a big British estate and fabulously beautiful. It's a lot harder when you're a housewife with a crappy husband, two obnoxious teenaged kids and friends who only have your back so long as their husbands are OK with it.

Strongly recommended. I'll definitely be reading more Grady Hendrix in future.

 

[Artamo]

I just finished Grady Hendrix's Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires.

This was my first Hendrix book and, based on his other titles, I was expecting this to be a modern take on a salacious 1970s horror paperback. Instead, it's something both less and more ambitious.

The plot outline is absolutely the most bog standard vampire tale, with a mysterious and charismatic figure insinuating himself into a community, suspicious activity happening, the protagonist figuring out something is wrong, but the vampire relies on key elements of the local environment to throw off suspicion, isolating the protagonist until it's almost too late to stop them, when they're able to rally some friends and fight back.

That's the plot of dozens of vampire stories, including Fright Night. In the Fright Night remake (which is excellent), Jerry the Vampire uses a rapidly emptying suburban housing tract during the 2008 housing crisis as cover for his murders. Did the neighbors vanish overnight because they were killed by a vampire or because they were running from creditors?

In Southern Book Club, what the vampire uses is the climate in early 1990s Charleston, South Carolina, where White suburban women are expected to be housewives obsessed with propriety and maintaining a pleasant facade for the outside world, where even the women don't take each other seriously, and where the lives of Black people, especially Black women, are someone else's problem and ignored by both the authorities and White society in general.

So the vampire is able to prey on Black children without fear of police or larger Charleston society getting involved and when the White protagonist steps up, her friends mostly crumble in the face of their husbands getting embarrassed by the commotion they're causing. The book club of the title are first and foremost victims of the patriarchy, although they'd be never identify it as such, and are complicit in Charleston's low level racism that allows the vampire to kill multiple children that we know about.

Hendrix's mother grew up in a world like this (as did my mom), and the book isn't unsympathetic towards these women, but recognizes that they're victims as well. It's a different kind of feminist vampire story than Lucy Undying, which I read last year, but in some ways more powerful. It's easy to be a feminist character in horror when you're a century-old vampire who's an heir to a big British estate and fabulously beautiful. It's a lot harder when you're a housewife with a crappy husband, two obnoxious teenaged kids and friends who only have your backs so long as their husbands are OK with it.

Strongly recommended. I'll definitely be reading more Grady Hendrix in future.

This sounds 100% up my alley.

 

[jian]

I just finished Grady Hendrix's Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires.

This was my first Hendrix book and, based on his other titles, I was expecting this to be a modern take on a salacious 1970s horror paperback. Instead, it's something both less and more ambitious.

The plot outline is absolutely the most bog standard vampire tale, with a mysterious and charismatic figure insinuating himself into a community, suspicious activity happening, the protagonist figuring out something is wrong, but the vampire relies on key elements of the local environment to throw off suspicion, isolating the protagonist until it's almost too late to stop them, when they're able to rally some friends and fight back.

That's the plot of dozens of vampire stories, including Fright Night. In the Fright Night remake (which is excellent), Jerry the Vampire uses a rapidly emptying suburban housing tract during the 2008 housing crisis as cover for his murders. Did the neighbors vanish overnight because they were killed by a vampire or because they were running from creditors?

In Southern Book Club, what the vampire uses is the climate in early 1990s Charleston, South Carolina, where White suburban women are expected to be housewives obsessed with propriety and maintaining a pleasant facade for the outside world, where even the women don't take each other seriously, and where the lives of Black people, especially Black women, are someone else's problem and ignored by both the authorities and White society in general.

So the vampire is able to prey on Black children without fear of police or larger Charleston society getting involved and when the White protagonist steps up, her friends mostly crumble in the face of their husbands getting embarrassed by the commotion they're causing. The book club of the title are first and foremost victims of the patriarchy, although they'd be never identify it as such, and are complicit in Charleston's low level racism that allows the vampire to kill multiple children that we know about.

Hendrix's mother grew up in a world like this (as did my mom), and the book isn't unsympathetic towards these women, but recognizes that they're victims as well. It's a different kind of feminist vampire story than Lucy Undying, which I read last year, but in some ways more powerful. It's easy to be a feminist character in horror when you're a century-old vampire who's an heir to a big British estate and fabulously beautiful. It's a lot harder when you're a housewife with a crappy husband, two obnoxious teenaged kids and friends who only have your backs so long as their husbands are OK with it.

Strongly recommended. I'll definitely be reading more Grady Hendrix in future.

Sounds great - on the library waiting list. I’ve borrowed her IKEA book (Horrorstor) and I’ll give it a read.

 

[prabe]

Sounds great - on the library waiting list. I’ve borrowed her IKEA book (Horrorstor) and I’ll give it a read.

A) Grady Hendrix is a "he." B) Horrorstor is my personal favorite of Hendrix's books, something about the deadpan "catalog" listings, I think.

(I've bounced real hard off Hendrix lately, that's not relevant to y'all enjoying his novels. Seriously, have at.)

 

[Maxperson]

I just bought 12 Months and am reading that.