For years my friends have been urging me to read House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. Recently, at their pushing a copy into my hands and again telling me how good it is, I finally started. It is good. Odd, but an incredible creation. And unsettlingly, even though I’m not that far into it yet.
It is a testimony to just how eerie a mood it creates that tonight after reading another section, I decided I’d best put it down, take a bath and read something else to sooth my mind before sleep, and selected The Tomb by H.P. Lovecraft as more likely to produce pleasant dreams.