“They are, as far as I can tell, unfixed beings—changeable, shaped by the thoughts or feelings of people who live close to thin places like the Trod, and the way that we can make fixed forms. We take ore and heat it and hammer it and all of a sudden it’s a gold ring. We take the sounds of our mouths and write them down and fix them on paper and all of a sudden we have stories. I don’t think they can make anything new for themselves, but they’ll come like moths to a flame when they’re offered something beautifully made.
All this time I’ve been thinking that they’re the ones with the magic, but what if it’s the other way around? What if, from their perspective, we are gods and djinns because of what we can conjure out of our imaginations with our hands? And in that case, what do you have to make to bring out something huge like the Greenfather? How clever? Or beautiful? Or terrible? How do you awe a god?”
Dark bleatings, my lovely tribe! I have to start this review with an apology over the quality of the cover image – it was the only one I could find and it definitely does not do justice to the absolutely beautiful artwork and presentation of this novella.
Speaking of the novella….
I have been blessed recently with brilliant stories to read. This is a creepy folk horror (or is it? There’s a few ways you could read this…well, up to a point, anyway…) about a young boy who isn’t quite like the other kids, and a new teacher that just wants to help him. He seems on the fringes, his presence is certainly there, though he doesn’t always seem present. She worries that he’s lonely and underprivileged, and perhaps having so much consideration for him is a mistake. She’s a wholly likeable and relatable character, the kind of person you hope nothing happens to.
Boy, I sure hope nothing happens to her.
The boy in question is a little odd. A creative soul that is always busy with his various…art…projects. Even at his young age, he seems quite sure of who he is, or at least who he’s meant to become. He’s very dedicated to his crafts. I’d say those qualities in one so young would normally be admirable. But.
I think the author did a great job of establishing the few characters and their relationships to each other in such a short space of time. I was permanently on my toes about the kid. On one hand, how could my heart not go out to this tiny fella? I related to him, in many ways. I wanted the best for him and no matter what was happening, I just couldn’t feel it was his fault. On the other hand…Damien Omen’s got nothing on this wee little dude.
I’d recommend this to the folk horror crowd for sure, I had a great time with it. If you’d like to check out the book or the author, I’ve popped some links below for you:
Bleeeeat!
Happy Goat Horror 
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