Synopsis:
“The modern day Goosebumps for adults.” –Horror Obsessive
Ash is stranded at a rural horror film festival about a giant killer cicada and can’t decide what’s worse, the movie or her idiot boyfriend, until she realizes she’s starring in the bloody sequel when people start dying and the locals won’t let them leave.
Review:
Striking the perfect balance between the campy, chaotic charm that seems to be signature to Shortwave’s sensational “Killer VHS,” series, and a small town atmosphere that is genuinely thick with unease, Tanya Pell’s “Cicada,” is to be devoured in a single sitting. Uncomfy, uncanny and in case the title didn’t tip you off… yup, crawling with bugs, this novella is not to be judged by its size, because it bites. Revolving around a creature feature for the ages, readers should take care to douse themselves in insect repellent before, during and after. Cathartic in places, and down-right anxiety inducing in others, this one reads like a lovechild of Nick Cutter’s “The Queen,” and Ronald Malfi’s “Small Town Horror,” was adapted in the 80s before existing only in a niche sub-reddit… and I lived for it. Tanya has a gothic novel coming from Gallery Books in October- “Her Wicked Roots,” and I can’t wait to inhale that one too.
We follow Ash and her muppet of a boyfriend/ generally poor excuse for a human being Richie, who find themselves lost in the middle of Mississippi on their way to a concert. With tensions boiling and hunger gnawing (not helped by the heat), the couple eventually pull over for some food and fresh air, and find themselves in the small town of “Revelation.” They’ve visited at the right time. It’s the annual Cicada film festival, commemorating the found footage movie shot here years before, forgotten by the rest of the world. The place is busy, the people are hospitable, but something about the town is not quite right. As clashes between Ash and Richie become more and more frequent, so do the strange occurrences: downed telephone poles, hushed conversations, missing people… hey, even giant insect husks. Ash, Richie and the other visitors soon realise that whilst Revelation may be a lovely place to visit, making it back home is strictly theoretical.
Bonkers in the best way, Tanya Pell has officially become a creature feature point of reference for me, because this one, whilst (deliberately) wildly over-the-top, is incredibly strong. While the UK has many, many flaws, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a newfound gratitude for it and its absence of cicadas. Anyway, Pell manages to make something that is all at once corny, creepy, gorgeously written, and unbearably tense, an impressive balancing act that (his holiness) Alan at Shortwave seems to have a talent for seeking out.
As true to its films of the 80s inspiration as it is, it’s not mindless chaos in its entirety. It’s mindful chaos really. As unpleasant a place as “Revelation,” quickly turns out to be, Ash does indeed have some revelations whilst there, leaving behind her truly unbearable human deadweight boyfriend, sparking new romance with an upgraded model, who definitely knows how to read a map, and quickly adapting to the bizarre circumstances she’s been thrust into, soon evolving into an utter and fully-fledged bad-ass. Yes, she’s trapped in a creepy town, and will probably have her insides sucked out by a giant cicada, but she’s finding herself first… you know?
If you’re after a book that is self-aware, self-referential, and fully committed to its own brand of madness, “Cicada,” delivers in spades. A love letter to shoddy cinematography, a celebration of ditching horrible boyfriends, and above all a bug-infested nightmare, you could, should and will read this one in a day. Clever and chaotic, eerie and absurd, wherever both this series and Tanya Pell go next, I will follow… with a can of bug spray, a heavy-duty fly swatter and a big old grin.
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