A review by jolietjane
Cows by Matthew Stokoe

There’s this delicate balance to extreme horror for me. Probably not for most people, but for me. It’s a genre that I enjoy quite a bit, but I struggle with the edginess of it all. Sometimes, a book can be edgy and still pretty profound. It might have something to say, interesting characters, or just touch a nerve in a way that I haven’t had touch before.

Cows reminds me of some thing that I would’ve written when I was 14 at my edgiest. It’s just really hard, just desperate to make you grossed out or put off, while leaving 1 million different potholes in its wake. it’s to be trippy and weird, and it’s too outlandish to be treated like a regular horror story.

I did drop the book. I just didn’t like it very much and it’s desperation to make you as grossed out as possible made it significantly less uncomfortable, and more irritating.