A Choir of Ill Children

A Choir of Ill Children - Tom Piccirilli All finished. Enjoyed it, but can't really recommend it to anyone except for those seeking a doctoral thesis on metaphors and similes. Quite a fine bit of writing, but horror? Not so much. I found the narrator to be quite jovial in the midst of madness, nary a flicker of fear or dread to be found within these pages. Weird and somewhat disturbing imagery and circumstances, yes. Scary, no. It was a very mentally stimulating read, almost a bit too rich. Even though it was a short book, the thickness of the brew was best enjoyed in small portions. I rate "the writing" four stars (Even though it was a bit too unrelentingly show-offy, we all enjoy a mind-blowing guitar solo, but after a while knock it off and play a few chords, you know?), but the story itself barely rated two stars, thus an average rating of three for the book overall. Interesting cast of characters, promising set-up, but ultimately all these intriguing things end up becoming little more than a static backdrop for an unending display of virtuosic wordsmithy that, while impressive, inevitably numbs one's senses. Tell me a story that gets my heart pounding, makes me feverishly turn the pages. The narrator of the story was just a bit too clever and blase for his own good, and a good story could have compensated for it, but it just wasn't there. Still, I remain in awe of Tom Piccirilli's command of the English language, and will likely return to his writings again at some point in the future, if only to boost my own IQ a few points from time to time. There were quite a few cryptic passages and recurring themes that probably were chock-full of sybolism and life-changing meaning, but to someone of my limited capacity for enlightment and penchant for cracking open a horror novel solely for the purpose of having a good time, these brain-teasers and conundrums struck me as "full of sound and fury, yet signifying nothing." Clearly a lot of work and love went into this book, and it shows on every page.s