Review of Horrorstor: A Novel by Grady Hendrix
As a longtime fan of horror with a penchant for the absurd, I stumbled upon Horrorstor with a sense of bemusement. The book’s premise—a haunted IKEA-style furniture superstore—was utterly unique, and knowing it was penned by Grady Hendrix, the hilarious mind behind The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires, immediately piqued my interest. I mean, what could be scarier than navigating a labyrinthine store at night? Let’s dive into this delightful, terrifying romp!
At the heart of Horrorstor lies the story of Amy, a disillusioned employee at Orsk, a sprawling, maze-like furniture store in Cleveland. Each day, strange occurrences plague the employees—broken shelves, shattered glassware, and the eerie feeling that they’re being watched. As they decide to take on an overnight shift to uncover the cause of the supernatural disturbances, the store transforms into a nightmarish playground of phantoms and horrors.
Hendrix weaves a deliciously satirical narrative that transcends mere scares, exploring themes of consumerism and the monotony of corporate life. The Orsk serves as a character in its own right—a monstrous embodiment of the dehumanizing retail experience. This commentary resonates deeply, especially as I recalled the countless times I wrestled with IKEA’s infamous assembly instructions. Reflecting on swings between humor and horror, one can sense the absurdity in the corporate grind—a sentiment Hendrix captures seamlessly.
The writing is sharp and engaging, effortlessly blending witty pop culture references with genuine moments of terror. I particularly enjoyed the quirky product descriptions at the beginning of each chapter that mimic an IKEA catalog, adding an unsettling touch. One memorable line that stood out was, “Are you equipped to handle the demons of your past while shopping for a new bookcase?” It’s clever, almost laugh-out-loud funny, perfectly capturing the bizarre juxtaposition of horror nestled within the mundane.
As the tension escalates, the dynamics between the characters deepen, with Amy, Ruth Anne, and their quirky co-workers evolving from mere employees into a makeshift family battling an unseen enemy. The camaraderie among them feels authentic, grounding the absurdity in genuine emotion. Personal stakes rise, particularly when they hold a séance—a moment both hilariously misguided and rife with dread.
However, while the earlier sections of the book are rich in atmosphere and creepiness, I felt that the latter half took a sharp turn into more gruesome territory. Some moments felt excessively prolonged, straying into realms that might alienate readers who prefer psychological horror over physical dread. Yet, this shift also adds a dimension that reflects the chaos of unraveling sanity, a theme that couldn’t be more relevant in today’s world.
In closing, Horrorstor is a must-read for anyone who relishes horror with a side of humor. It’s perfect for fanatics of both ghost stories and social commentary, wrapped up in a witty narrative style. If you’ve ever felt the wave of existential dread wash over you at a big-box store, or if you just enjoy a good scare coupled with laughs, this book will sweep you into the aisles of Orsk—and perhaps leave you checking over your shoulder the next time you shop.
So grab a flashlight, a cozy blanket, and prepare for an laugh-out-loud yet eerie experience—it’s one heck of a ride!
You can find Horrorstor: A Novel here >>