So I’m scrolling through Facebook as you do and I come across a post from Nick Mamatas where he’s provided a quote for Violet LeVoit’s new novel Scarstruck and I think too myself who the fuck is Violet LeVoit and why haven’t I heard of her? I do a little digging (i.e. I googled her name) and discover that she’s an author of Bizzaro fiction, a genre I’ve always been aware of but have never bothered with. On reflection, I find that strange because I’ve always been a fan of horror, loved my splatterpunk in the late 80s and early 90s and would get irrational whenever Charles L. Grant admonished writers for using too much gore. I know Bizzaro isn’t all about the blood and guts, it also dabbles in the experimental and absurd, but it should be in my wheelhouse. Anyway, I decided to purchase a copy of Violet’s first novel I Miss The World, and fuck me if it isn’t just the bomb (do the cool kids still say that?)

The plot is straight-forward. A brother and sister meet up at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery where they catch up on what they‘ve been doing. As both of them work in Hollywood, the brother is a production designer, the sister is a casting agent, much of their conversation revolves around the Business. There’s this brilliant bit where the sister talks about finding the right face for the right time period, but also how the unique features of particular actors changed the public’s view on what was beautiful, what was handsome. “There’s no Susan Sarandon without Bette Davis.” The book is full of smart, razor-sharp observations like this, including an astonishing, hilarious dissection of one of the most famous paintings in America, Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks. The brother and sister’s discussion goes beyond Hollywood, they talk about their upbringing and then the sister launches into a story about… actually you can find out for yourself.

If I held back from giving I Miss The World five stars (on the old Goodreads-o-meter) it’s because I have mixed feelings about the big reveal toward the end (don’t worry I won’t spoil it). It is subtly foreshadowed throughout the book (we know from the outset that somethings not right), but I’ve seen a similar trick pulled a number of times before and it’s lost much of its novelty. Having said that, the twist does lead us to a couple of paragraphs of prose that’s as shocking, cruel and impactful as anything I’ve ever read. The horror of the scene works because it’s all about context, LeVoit has done the groundwork to make sure that when you read those paragraphs you are stunned, you are disgusted and yet you read on. Fuckwit edgelords should take note.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever address my Bizzaro fiction hole. What I have done is pre-ordered Violet LeVoit’s next book because if there’s one thing that’s come out of this is that I now know who she is and I won’t be forgetting her in a hurry.