The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires
“This funny and fresh take on a classic tale manages to comment on gender roles, racial disparities, and white privilege all while creeping me all the way out. So good.”—Zakiya Dalila Harris, author of The Other Black Girl
Steel Magnolias meets Dracula in this New York Times best-selling horror novel about a women's book club that must do battle with a mysterious newcomer to their small Southern town.
Patricia Campbell’s life has never felt smaller. Her husband is a workaholic, her teenage kids have their own lives, her senile mother-in-law needs constant care, and she’s always a step behind on her endless to-do list. The only thing keeping her sane is her book club, a close-knit group of Charleston women united by their love of true crime. At these meetings they’re as likely to talk about the Manson family as they are about their own families.
One evening after book club, Patricia is viciously attacked by an elderly neighbor, bringing the neighbor's handsome nephew, James Harris, into her life. James is well traveled and well read, and he makes Patricia feel things she hasn’t felt in years. But when children on the other side of town go missing, their deaths written off by local police, Patricia has reason to believe James Harris is more of a Bundy than a Brad Pitt. The real problem? James is a monster of a different kind—and Patricia has already invited him in.
Little by little, James will insinuate himself into Patricia’s life and try to take everything she took for granted—including the book club—but she won’t surrender without a fight in this blood-soaked tale of neighborly kindness gone wrong.
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Readers say *The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires* is a mixed bag: praised for its atmosphere, ’90s nostalgia, and suspenseful horror sc...
I went into this expecting a fun Southern vampire story, but I ended up being much more invested in the women than the horror.
The first half completely pulled me in. I loved trying to figure out what was really going on and found myself constantly making theories. Patricia's character was the heart of the story for me, and I enjoyed watching her grow throughout the novel.
As the book became more action-driven, I found myself less engaged. I was more interested in the relationships and character development than the horror elements, so the second half didn't grab me quite as much as the first.
That said, I really appreciated the themes of friendship, finding your voice, and questioning the roles we sometimes settle into. Those aspects stayed with me long after I finished the book.
Overall, I'm glad I read it, and I can definitely see why so many people enjoy it. It just wasn't quite the five-star read I hoped it would be.
I picked this up as a read for horror book club. Horror isn't really my genre, but I do try it once in a while.
I enjoyed this book, but there were a few minor things that bugged me, and it is possible that I missed the explanation or it is possible that the author and editor missed explaining it. I can't mention it without spoilers, but they dropped my review from 5 stars to 4 stars.
I would recommend this book if someone was into horror. There are a few gross things in it, but it just made me happier that I was reading it instead of watching it. It's worth reading.
I enjoyed this book, but there were a few minor things that bugged me, and it is possible that I missed the explanation or it is possible that the author and editor missed explaining it. I can't mention it without spoilers, but they dropped my review from 5 stars to 4 stars.
I would recommend this book if someone was into horror. There are a few gross things in it, but it just made me happier that I was reading it instead of watching it. It's worth reading.
I know Grady Hendrix has his fans, and this book was backed with a L O T of hype. And I get it – Hendrix’s got some really fun gimmicks. But, uh… Reader Be Warned.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘊𝘭𝘶𝘣’𝘴 𝘎𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 is about a group of Southern housewives in the late 80’s to early 90’s who, as the title implies, are part of a book club.
By virtue of my personal interests, I will be honest with you. I do not watch or read much horror. Not, I daresay, because I’m a weenie* but because I think it’s boring if it’s not aesthetically pleasing. And yeah, in fact I do find horror aesthetics appealing. The most highly touted horror novels don’t phase me, though. So Grady Hendrix fans, don’t even come at me from that angle. As a matter of fact, the horror wasn’t what forced me to give this book such low marks, though. In fact, that part was very good.
I think Hendrix came at this story with a gimmick – a really good gimmick, if we’re being honest – and just didn’t pull it off all the way, while also sticking too true to the original inspiration source which didn’t need to be brought back up for the 2020 reader.
First, let me talk about the story, then we’ll get to my quibbles. In between the 1980’s and 1990’s, in a small, perfect town in the (American) South, there once was a book-club for your typical American Housewives. They all had different personalities and worried about things such as: lunch meats, their husbands and children, and most importantly, the spotlessness of their homes. In short, they’re pretty boring on the surface. But not these gals – they’re book-club books aren’t safe and beachy, they read mostly true crime – and their husbands whine about how morbid that is. But that was fine, until… Until a mysterious stranger moves into the small, perfect neighborhood. He charms his way into everyone’s families, but after a while, Patricia Cambell isn’t so sure about him. She spends the majority of the book trying to convince everyone else that he is, actually, a vampire.
This could have been a really fun book – I was promised a really fun book. I won’t deny that Hendrix’s horror-writing chops are there: I mean, that finale really did pay off.
But there were a lot of points when the book really got rolling that I really don’t think were necessary: ie, sexism, racism, and thinly veiled pedophilia. Now, I’ve had enough time to really cool my head off about it, but just because your inspiration source ignored it and was ok with it in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s doesn’t at all mean that’s exactly the nostalgia we’re pining for in 2020. Defenders of the book will say that these things really were necessary to spur your emotions forward. But I know better, and you, dear reader, need not trouble yourself with it further.
At this point, it feels petty to even parse through the characters and author’s perceived mistakes, but the above is the more important to criticism anyway, so I started with that. I feel like the fun could have been in the different book club members – after all, they’re all really different. That, too, was a disappointment. They were super two-dimensional and, being lowly housewives, stereotypical. I wasn’t about it. Not to be that kid, but it’s pretty obvious that Hendrix’s one weak defense and reference to not being “sexist” in the book points out that he has no idea how flippin sexist he really is. Again, I ain’t about it. There were a pile of things in this book that were not ok. This is really just one of those books that got hyped left and right that really left me wondering if those people actually read it or if they were just paid to say nice things about it based on how they felt looking at the actual book in their hands.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
If you enjoyed this review, you can find it and others like it here.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘊𝘭𝘶𝘣’𝘴 𝘎𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 is about a group of Southern housewives in the late 80’s to early 90’s who, as the title implies, are part of a book club.
By virtue of my personal interests, I will be honest with you. I do not watch or read much horror. Not, I daresay, because I’m a weenie* but because I think it’s boring if it’s not aesthetically pleasing. And yeah, in fact I do find horror aesthetics appealing. The most highly touted horror novels don’t phase me, though. So Grady Hendrix fans, don’t even come at me from that angle. As a matter of fact, the horror wasn’t what forced me to give this book such low marks, though. In fact, that part was very good.
I think Hendrix came at this story with a gimmick – a really good gimmick, if we’re being honest – and just didn’t pull it off all the way, while also sticking too true to the original inspiration source which didn’t need to be brought back up for the 2020 reader.
First, let me talk about the story, then we’ll get to my quibbles. In between the 1980’s and 1990’s, in a small, perfect town in the (American) South, there once was a book-club for your typical American Housewives. They all had different personalities and worried about things such as: lunch meats, their husbands and children, and most importantly, the spotlessness of their homes. In short, they’re pretty boring on the surface. But not these gals – they’re book-club books aren’t safe and beachy, they read mostly true crime – and their husbands whine about how morbid that is. But that was fine, until… Until a mysterious stranger moves into the small, perfect neighborhood. He charms his way into everyone’s families, but after a while, Patricia Cambell isn’t so sure about him. She spends the majority of the book trying to convince everyone else that he is, actually, a vampire.
This could have been a really fun book – I was promised a really fun book. I won’t deny that Hendrix’s horror-writing chops are there: I mean, that finale really did pay off.
But there were a lot of points when the book really got rolling that I really don’t think were necessary: ie, sexism, racism, and thinly veiled pedophilia. Now, I’ve had enough time to really cool my head off about it, but just because your inspiration source ignored it and was ok with it in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s doesn’t at all mean that’s exactly the nostalgia we’re pining for in 2020. Defenders of the book will say that these things really were necessary to spur your emotions forward. But I know better, and you, dear reader, need not trouble yourself with it further.
At this point, it feels petty to even parse through the characters and author’s perceived mistakes, but the above is the more important to criticism anyway, so I started with that. I feel like the fun could have been in the different book club members – after all, they’re all really different. That, too, was a disappointment. They were super two-dimensional and, being lowly housewives, stereotypical. I wasn’t about it. Not to be that kid, but it’s pretty obvious that Hendrix’s one weak defense and reference to not being “sexist” in the book points out that he has no idea how flippin sexist he really is. Again, I ain’t about it. There were a pile of things in this book that were not ok. This is really just one of those books that got hyped left and right that really left me wondering if those people actually read it or if they were just paid to say nice things about it based on how they felt looking at the actual book in their hands.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
If you enjoyed this review, you can find it and others like it here.
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