Other Possible Prompts: 5. Chapters have titles, 8. Involving the art world, 22. An unlikely detective, 23. An author with an X, Y, or Z in their name
This is not my favorite Grady Hendrix, not by a long shot. I knew it wasn’t going to be, but what a bummer! I just really, really hate band books I think. This was no exception.
Spurred by a gap in her own personal sense of time, Kris Pulaski embarks to find what’s left of her Dürt Würk metal bandmates from the 90s. Believing their former lead singer to have sold their souls to “Black Iron Mountain”, she endeavours on an epic road trip to find all her former bandmates and stop Terry “The Blind King” before his Hellfest ’19 music festival: which Kris believes will bring the end times.
If this synopsis sounds like a bad trip, that’s because it is. I love Grady Hendrix’ creativity, but this one was so far gone to me I couldn’t keep up. Whatever it was, it made a lot of sense to the characters…but I guess I missed that critical point where everything was supposed to click. I got the general idea of things, like “Black Iron Mountain = bad”. But it just took things a lot further than my mind was willing to go.
Good god, I have absolutely no idea why I still try to read books about bands. Excepting Daisy Jones & The Six, which to this day remains one of my favorites ever, I can’t think of a single book about a band that I liked or cared about. That atmosphere, those types of characters: I really dislike everything about them. I should’ve known to quit while I was ahead when it came to Hendrix and this novel. It doesn’t alter my opinion of Hendrix as a writer, because I cannot objectively say this a bad book. My judgments here are heavily based on my bias.
And speaking of Hendrix, his horror writing skills remain top notch. Nothing about the scenes of horror in here were bad, I just couldn’t be bothered to care if the characters lived or died through them. Is that bad? I’m also very curious where they all found their wills to live, particularly Kris: her life had gone to complete crap, she finds out her former bandmate sold her soul for fame and money, and she’s like… “better go round everybody up and stop him”. I’d just lay down and cry, frankly. Even so, Hendrix remains one of few writers who can unfold a jump scare movie in my mind. Even if I did not care for this story, I cannot deny it is written with giving the reader the creepy crawlies in mind – and succeeds.
This book really did just…bore me. I hate saying it but it’s so true. I couldn’t stop zoning out, and the only character I was really invested in was Melanie. I can’t go any higher than 2.5 stars for good horror, but a bad story. I just didn’t like it for me, and I don’t think I’m the only one…no one talks about this novel when they talk about Grady Hendrix.
So thus concludes my thoughts, of which there are few, on We Sold Our Souls. I won’t say it’s not up to his standard; I just really, really didn’t like it. I’ve used a lot of really’s and very’s…point being, not for me.
Have a great week, peeps!