A review by arockinsamsara
The Book of Accidents by Chuck Wendig

4.0

There is something dark and infectious about “The Book of Accidents,” because once you pick it up it is hard to put down. This horror-thriller doesn’t give you a chance to take a rest, hitting the ground running with a pair of seemingly unrelated prologues only to never slow down. Playing with ideas of inherited trauma, social and systemic violence, empathy, family, and the outward performance of inner weakness (or strength), among others, Wendig manages to cram a whole lot under the surface of a story about stopping a bad guy with nefarious plans, and yet none of these themes or ideas feel contrived, they just fuel the overall story in complicating ways.

It is a compelling story populated with equally compelling characters, daring you to set expectations. The characters feel worn-in, like comfortable shoes: an foul-mouthed, erratic artist mom; a contemplative, bottled-up cop dad; a sensitive son who isn’t great at making friends. Adding to that, Wendig doesn’t seem shy about his inspiration: not only will the constant reader find things that resemble thinnies, dark selves, and deadlights, and not only do you meet the elderly neighbor and think, ‘OK, give him a Maine accent and you’ve got yourself a Jud,’ only to have him introduce himself a moment later as Jed, but there is even a chapter titled “We All Float Down Here.” (That will all make sense to fans of a certain giant in the horror genre). Yet, this familiarity, this homage, isn’t a substitute for lazy writing or lackadaisical world building, because Wendig masterfully gives the taste of what you think you know, and then builds, defying tropes and expectations across the board. The primary characters are all well-developed and unique, established and exciting at the same time. Similarly, the story itself feels like well-trodden ground, only to find defiant gnarls of roots and dangerous rocky outcrops tripping you up or obstructing where you might expect it to go, with new shadows coloring every corner.

Overall, the writing is strong, with clear voices as the chapters move around following different characters. It is sharp and quick. This is seemingly belied by the table of contents showing 80 chapters, not counting prologues, interludes, and epilogue, but they are all relatively short and flow well from one to another, with enough cliffhangers and twists to make you want to take in just one more chapter, without feeling cheap or gimmicky. Sometimes the dialogue was a little clunky, especially when scenes ended with dialogue instead of internal thought or narration, and this only stood out because the inner lives of the characters was so well-written. Similarly, sometimes there is just a level of awareness or meta-awareness that feels too sophisticated, in thought and language, for some of the characters. Neither of these are major gripes, though, because they were never serious enough to pull me away from the moment, the story and characters having enough inertia to easily move past with barely a stubbed toe.

Strong writing, comfortable and yet daring characters that you care about, and a provocative, compulsive story make this a really strong entry into the genre. I enjoyed every moment of this book, and tore through it in a few days. Fans of the genre, and of strong writing in general, will want to take the ride.

I want to thank NetGalley and Random House, who gave me a complimentary eARC in exchange for an honest review.