Wolf Worm by T. Kingfisher

An ardent, artistic heroine, and some bad, burrowing bugs.

I have read a string of books recently with reluctant heroes. Grumpy "chosen one" types, main characters who would rather be somewhere else, who shrug and eye-roll their way through the story, wishing the world would just leave them alone. I get it. I also want to get through a Tuesday without having to go anywhere. But I like a main character who wants to go, who yearns and strives, and cares. So it was refreshing to meet Wolf Worm's main character, Sonia Wilson, a scientific illustrator, who has her own ideas, and makes her own plans. Then of course it was also horribly entertaining to watch her clever, determined self get into so much terrifying trouble.

It's 1899, and Sonia is in rural North Carolina, She's been hired as an artist by the mysterious and moody Dr. Halder, and is trying to fit into his weird, household. He's a naturalist studying parasitic insects, and she's a loner who yearns to connect and likes to paint flowers. They collaborate over botflies and wasps, but Sonia finds more companionship in the housekeeper, the local hedge witch, and other more monstrous denizens of the woods. The first half of the book builds tension slowly, giving us skillful drips of gothic worry and tantalizing drops of gothic fear, without raising a major alarm. The second half is a screeching crescendo into dark panic and some really gross body horror.

If you're a bug enthusiast, this may be your next favorite book. If deep descriptions of larvae will have you clinging to the chandelier, this might be a rough one for you. But if you can stomach the creepy-crawlies, the reward is worth it. This book will not only scare you -- it also asks some interesting questions. Who are we really meant to look out for, as we ping along through this life, trying to stay out of messes, trying to keep ourselves afloat? If there's a scream in the woods, of course the first question is about our own safety, but then the next question is about our responsibility. Do we have to pry open that door? Do we have to go down those stairs? Sonia didn't overcome her hesitations because she had to, as a character in a novel with a plot. Instead, her decisions felt very real, as suspense arose not just from the threat of danger, but from the threat of complicity.

Another thing I really enjoyed about Wolf Worm was that even though it put me through lot of shocking, scary stuff, I was able to put the book down and shake it off. Some books accomplish this by defanging the terror in the end, as the masks come off, and all is revealed to be innocuous. Kingfisher didn't undercut a single thing she had built. It was all still real, but she managed to map an off ramp that let me go to sleep peacefully when the book was over. Part of this was untangling some of the gothic tropes -- like the missing wife, the girl buried alive, and the devil in the woods -- in an innovative way. But still, maintaining mood while resolving the danger is a difficult needle to thread.

Are you a fan of T. Kingfisher? Body horror? Entomology? Tell me more: