In my mind I roughly categorize supernatural horror into two main groups: Babadook-style horror and Cabin in the Woods-style horror.
Babadook-style horror is the kind that starts out right off the bat with a low-grade, unceasing tension, and it usually follows one or more Very Unhappy People. You see the characters and think- do they really need to go through even more shit? Their lives already kind of suck. But the story often relies at least to some extent on the narrative mystery of "is this supernatural or is it budding psychosis? Or maybe a metaphor for something else entirely?" It's usually a bit of a downer.
Cabin in the Woods-style horror starts out lighter, sunnier, with average folks just living their lives. Once the crap starts hitting the fan, there's not usually much prevarication about whether or not the horror is supernatural. Part of the horror comes in the knowledge that even though these characters are relatively good people, even though they are making ok decisions, this thing is going to wreck their world. It focuses on the huge transition-- we were so happy and normal yesterday and now nothing will ever be the same ever again.
The Twisted Ones is definitely the latter, much to my delight!
The story centers on a 30-something editor, Mouse, who journeys to rural North Carolina to clean out her estranged grandmother's house at her father's behest. When she gets there she's exasperated to find that her grandmother had been a hoarder, and every room of the house is filled with hangers and newspapers and bags full of bags. Every room, that is, except for her step-grandfather's bedroom, where she finds his creepy diary full of creepy prose that seem to worm their way into her head.
Now the first thing I'll say is that the overall tone of the book is lighter for a bigger chunk of the book than I would have expected from looking at the cover. The blurb describes it as "The Blair Witch Project meets The Andy Griffith Show," which I find to be an odd choice for a variety of reasons (has anyone in the target demographic even seen The Andy Griffith Show, for one?), but I think it's trying to give you the idea that the story's not all grimdark horror all the time.
Oh don't get me wrong, this is definitely horror. It goes into some deliciously weird directions, and it pays off satisfyingly in the end.
But for the first part of the book its appeal is in the narrator, who's one of the most engaging, relatable characters I've read in a while. I loved how irreverent and low-key snarky Mouse is without her voice ever feeling forced or self consciously jokey, and I found the plethora of descriptions about her lovable dumbass of a dog to be super endearing.
It also becomes clear pretty quickly that Mouse uses humor and denial to cope with all the weirdness going on. So while I think the bits of humor (especially when paired with the first person past tense, which by definition assures the survival of the narrator), tend to insulate the horror a bit, I do think that it all makes sense for the character.
And that's the thing-- everything here makes so much sense. The story does such a great job of gradually building up the creep factor in a really believable way. Every beat of the story happens for a reason, everything that happens feels like a natural extension of what happened before. I love that it never had me screaming over stupid plot or characters decisions and let me just enjoy the ride.
And enjoy it I did. Overall I loved the clever writing, engaging narrator, expert plotting, and serious creep factor. Plus, I devoured it in like 24 hours which I haven't done with a non-romance in quite a while, and a weeks later it's still giving me that "oooh yeah, that was good" feeling.