Horrorstor
in a nutshell: A ramshackle team of employees (assembled according to television-casting requirements) at an IKEA (that is not legally an IKEA but. like.) are tasked with spending the night roving the showfloors in hopes of catching the prankster who is fucking shit up when no one is looking. Alas, 'tis not a wary rouge intent on disrupting the sales of a singular large chain box store, but, something far more sinister! (Ghosts. It's ghosts.)
the vibes: An amalgamation of stories you've encountered before, with admittedly charming character sketches leading you along for a trip that feels not dissimilar to a theme park ride.
main themes: Sometimes, people desperately need jobs that suck the living souls out of their bodies, but in this capitalist hellscape we have all collectively assembled for ourselves, perhaps those same soul-sucking jobs are sadly all one has left in their hollow shell of a human life. (In the same vein, writers need money, and that is absolutely a human right.) What did they say at Auschwitz? Work will set you free? Perhaps inappropriate for this setting, perhaps not! In our glossy, frenetic collapse of historical context, who's to say.
the writing: The writing here is actually damned impressive in its formulaic unfolding. It is so incredibly fitting that this all takes place in a mass-produced, ready-to-assemble marketplace. Perhaps the setting is meta commentary on what it takes to get published? Let's be generous and say it is! While reading, one gets the sense that the author had plans for selling the film rights to the story before it was even finished. And honestly, I respect that. Again, every aspect of this was perfectly serviceable and inoffensive. There were even a couple truly spooky moments, some allusions to Franco Berretti's "The Soul At Work" (I think? Again, we should choose to be generous) and a few moments that got a literal LOL from me. "We wanna be on Bravo! Not A&E!" How dare you suggest our ghost hunter show air anywhere other than alongside the Real Housewives? (Sincerely, the height of reality tv pedigree.)
To top it all off (or wrap it all up) the packaging for the physical book is half the appeal. And it is very well done. True to its inspiration, there are a number of clean and clever IKEA-worthy product illustrations gracing every chapter, which take a turn for the torturous as the origin of the haunting (the IKEA is built on top of a former prison which was lead by a particularly sadistic, Puritanically labor-obsessed warden) is revealed. The book itself is housed in a snazzy cover with French flaps replete with floor plans, assembly instructions, and a catalogue-style cover photo. Overall, one gets the sense that this book was made to be purchased, over its intent to be read. But I borrowed a copy from the library and it was just as good. Read it within 2.5 hours and promptly forgot most of the details by the next week. Not a bad way to spend an evening, but I'm genuinely surprised I was able to write as much about it as I did about it.