I’m not a big fan of horror. I don’t watch the movies, nor do I read the books. Some might find that surprising considering mystery and horror are so tightly aligned. Both genres claim Edgar Allen Poe as one of its founders. In fact, one of the highest awards a mystery writer can receive is the Edgar Allen Poe Award, commonly called, ‘Edgars.’ The Edgar is awarded by Mystery Writers of America to honor the best mystery fiction, non-fiction, television, film, and theater published or produced during the previous year. So, why don’t I read horror? Because I’m a wimp. Reading an ultra scary horror novel or watching a movie where a chainsaw wielding serial killer attacks an unsuspecting camper or a hockey mask wearing monster leaps from underneath beds, jumps out of closets or clutches a single woman (they’re almost always single) while she showers, sleeps or walks through a dark house alone in bare feet (no idea why they never seem to turn on the lights), will cause me to turn on every light in my house and sleep while clutching a baseball bat. So, when my friend, Patricia Lillie asked me to read her thesis novel, The Ceiling Man, I was a little reluctant. I was torn between wanting to help a friend and the reality that I might spend the next week watching Christian television all night and singing hymns (while clutching my baseball bat in a house bright enough to land planes). My desire to help a friend won out and I agreed to read the book, which Patricia describes as ‘slow burn’ or ‘quiet horror,’ relying more on dread and suspense than gore.
The Ceiling Man is a well-written, quiet-horror novel. Someone or something is killing people in a small Ohio town. The story is told from three perspectives: Blevins, a nasty homeless man with a bad attitude; Carole, mother of an autistic teenager; and Abby, a teenager with autism. One of the things that separates The Ceiling Man from other novels is the fact that rather than taking the easy road and making the protagonist the mother, Carole, or her police officer husband, Jim, Ms. Lillie goes outside of the norm by making Abby the protagonist. Yes, the autistic teenager is the protagonist who has to stop the evil villain and save her family.
Throughout the book, the reader is exposed to events from Abby’s perspective, limited language and all. For some reason, Abby has a connection to an evil entity who is killing people, and she sees him. When Abby starts to describe scenes of violence and brutality, her parents are confused. Who is The Ceiling Man and how does Abby know about these horrific events? If only Abby could explain, the police could put a stop to this evil, but she can’t. Her verbal skills won’t allow her to explain what she’s seeing or why she sees it. Thankfully, the author doesn’t try to normalize Abby or provide some sudden plot device that allows Abby to suddenly go into a trance where she is able to explain clearly and calmly so the culprit can be arrested. Nope. Abby ends the book in the same way she starts it. As The Ceiling Man continues his killing spree, he realizes Abby is a danger to him and she must be stopped. Can Abby stop The Ceiling Man before he kills her or the people she loves? That’s the question; you’ll have to read the book to find out.
I highly recommend The Ceiling Man by Patricia Lillie. Even if you don’t like traditional gory, slasher horror books and film, you’ll enjoy the suspense and creativity of this novel. In the same vein as an Edgar Allen Poe story of suspense and foreboding, your pulse will race and you’ll stay up all night to get to the end. I can’t promise you won’t want to sleep with the lights on or a baseball bat under the covers; sadly, you’ll realize neither will protect you from The Ceiling Man.