TL;W[on’t]R[read the review]: If you like small town cosmic horror, snarky give-no-fucks girl protagonists, awesome Latinx brujeria, and/or an inspiring, snarky ACAB ethos, definitely check this book out. It’s the best adult horror book I’ve read in a long time.
Content warnings: police brutality; parental death (cancer) on page; gore; extreme violence
Summary [courtesy of Goodreads]: Don’t trust the Liar. Don’t go in the River. Do not cross the King. In Red Valley, California, you follow the rules if you want to stay alive. But even that isn’t enough to protect Sadie now that she’s unexpectedly become the Liar: the keeper and maker of Red Valley’s many secrets. In a town like this, friendships are hard-won and bad blood lasts generations, and when not everyone in town is exactly human, it isn’t a safe place to make enemies. And though the Liar has power—power to remake the world, with just a little blood—what Sadie really needs is answers: Why is the town’s sheriff after her? What does the King want from her? And what is the real purpose of the Liar of Red Valley?
I could not get enough of this book. Really, I wish it were twice as long as it is, and I almost never want MORE in a horror novel. From the seedy small-town gothic vibes to the long cast of ancient horrors, the atmosphere of this book was IMMACULATE. I’ve never spent any time in a small California town, but this book was so evocative of heat-drenched nights and dead-end vibes that I felt like I was there. (It probably helps that I DID spend much of my childhood in small Texas towns, which have their own dead-end vibes…)
The characters were a delight to read, particularly main character and all-around spitfire Sadie. Her hardscrabble life and indomitable energy may seem like a bit much at times (though I never have a problem with this–bring on the resilient girls who will spit in the eye of fate, a demon, or whatever life throws at her), though some twists toward the end go a long way toward explaining her stamina. But she’s also funny, and fun to ‘be’ around, which isn’t always the norm in horror. I also loved Sadie’s best friend Graciela and her brother Beto, a brujo who’s forbidden to practice magic as part of his parole agreement. In addition to simply expanding the novel’s world to not be all-white, these characters force Sadie (and the reader, particularly the white reader) to confront the extreme racism endemic in Liar Valley. Which leads to my next gushing point, which is:
This book’s underlying messages about bigotry and social justice are fabulous. It pulls NO punches when it comes to representations of cops; in a world where prehistoric evils run rampant and horrific monsters are an everyday part of life, the white undersheriff with big plans is the BIGGEST bad of them all, in some ways. (At least in the ways that could fuck up Sadie and her friends’ lives.) While this book works spectacularly as a straightforward Stephen-King-if-he-were-truly-progressive horror story, it also functions as a great implicit allegory for the hellish times we live in now. Saying more, though, gets into
SPOILER TERRITORY
[I’ll keep these spoilers relatively mild, since the book’s brand-fucking-new.]
These cops are sure bastards, but in THIS world they pay for their sins quickly and painfully. When the undersheriff sets himself against the monstrous, unseen “King” of the city, the puppet-like King’s Men open up the earth and swallow his deputies whole. The undersheriff himself survives for most of the novel (since this story of ancient evils battling it out needs someone TRULY evil to impede Sadie’s attempt to save her town), but rest assured that he gets his comeuppance in the end. (It was so damn delicious, and the timing made it even sweeter.)
The horror delivered on pretty much all fronts, from the demonic creatures that lurked in the shadows of the town to the chthonic, immeasurably large King. The awakening of rival ancient horrors, and their treks to Liar Valleys, were all extremely fun and harrowing as well. My favorite horror element, though, was probably the terrifying (and truly unique) Laughing Boys, teenagers who invite demons to possess them for a quick high who then, unsurprisingly, get overtaken and transformed into murderous beasts. It’s a great meta-commentary on toxic masculinity too, which was a nice bonus. (And the next step in the devolution of these teens into “Crying Boys” was terrifying and ingenious–I don’t think I’ve seen demonic possession done in quite this way before.) And don’t get me started on the Long Shadows (let’s hope we get a sequel where we see Sadie’s debt to them called in). The ending wrapped almost everything up nicely, but it certainly hinted that The Liar of Red Valley could be the start of a really exciting new series. I hope Goodwater gets this chance, as I want to read the continuing adventures of Sadie and her friends NOW, across as many novels as he can possibly produce.