One can only imagine a Realtor’s listing for a house on PANDORA DRIVE: “4 bed, 2.5 bath, 2 car garage, basement full of vomitous sludge, great view of monster cock.”
Tim Waggoner’s horror novel takes place in a most unusual neighborhood, where the twentysomething Damara still lives a hermit-like existence with her mother. Though not unattractive, Damara is terrified of going outside for fear her powers will wreak havoc on the general public. What powers, you ask? Those that make people’s greatest dreams and worst fears come to all-too-real life. Such forces already claimed the lives of her father and little brother, not to mention Damara’s own social life.
Meanwhile, the retired, henpecked husband across the street enjoys the newfound “twitches” in his manhood and sets out to do something about it, resulting in what must be the greatest, goriest oral sex scene in horror literature. I’m not sure what the point was, especially when his urges turn desperately brutal and overly homicidal.
I appreciated the first half of my stroll down PANDORA DRIVE. Getting to know its residents and rubbernecking at its odd events (and there are plenty) was enjoyable enough, but the last half felt like one scene stretched out past the breaking point. Waggoner’s book is not a bad one – just one where the immense curb appeal is somewhat lessened when you discover how gawdy the wallpaper inside is. –Rod Lott
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