While perusing the Interweb for Horror blogs months ago, I noticed a recurring theme - "Gee, but I wish I read and covered more books." And so, to address this in my own highly imitable way, let's kick off the first installment of the Heart in a Jar Boo Klub. In my continuing effort to become the Oprah of Horror Bloggers, embracing the entirety of Horror fandom and crushing it to my more-than-ample bosom, I'll declare a book of classic Horror a Selection of the Month, give you some time to acquire a copy, and then invite you all to return to the Jar about a month later to read my half-baked thoughts, and to contribute some wisdom and insights of your own. We'll also do a little aromatherapy, creative visualization, and spend some time Accepting the Abundance, propped up on big taupe-colored pillows with huge steaming cups of chai. Or Cosmos. But I draw the line at looking at my vagina in a mirror.
Since the whole world is going kinda wolf-happy these days, our initial tome will be the novel that broke Whitley Strieber into the mainstream, and launched a string of creepy best-sellers that were interrupted by, uh, alien abduction. So let's return to 1978, and an era before BEMs were messing with his brains and turning him into the kind of person that only Christopher Walken could play, and all read The Wolfen. It's been well over three decades since I read the novel, and have no idea how well it holds up today. (We'll look at the book independent of the movie - that'll be a Boo Klub rule.) You can acquire some pretty cheap reading copies here or here, or your local used bookstore may have one. We'll always set the 13th as the date of postage, so come back on March 13 and we'll see how well Manhattanites can coexist with a race of super-intelligent lupine predators. I'm guessing there will be issues.
Get readin', Jarheads, and come back here in about thirty. Excelsior!