The Scare Salon

Said protagonist is Mike O’Brien, a forty-something theater director with a long and successful career staging productions all over the US. He has suffered from OCD for most of his life and is also a recovering alcoholic. At the beginning of the story, he’s in a remote session with his therapist, discussing a new work opportunity he’s both excited and anxious about.

See, Mike was originally from Seattle, and that’s where he directed his first play fifteen years ago. However, there was some initially undisclosed tragedy that caused him to move away, and it’s implied that this very tragedy was a catalyst for his later mental issues.

But just recently, his best friend Nate, who never left Seattle, contacted him and begged him to come back to his hometown to direct a new play he’s written called Wherever You Go. Nate is insistent that since the play was inspired by their early experiences, Mike is the only person who will be able to bring it to the stage with the insight and passion it deserves.

Mike is grateful for the opportunity, but he’s also very nervous about not only returning to his home turf, but putting on a play in the very theater, the Burgess, where the previous tragedy occurred. His therapist thinks it will be good for him to face his fears, however, and for the most part, Mike seems to agree.

As a sort of preparatory exercise, Mike’s therapist encourages him to start doing sessions of spontaneous writing, where he tries to clear his head of any thoughts and simply write anything that pops to mind. These short assignments, by the way, turn up at the start of each new chapter.

The first writing piece is short and clearly refers to Mike’s apprehension about being in Seattle again. It also rhymes, which gives Mike some anxiety because he thought he was supposed to write without thinking and the rhyming implies that he planned ahead, but his therapist allays his concerns, telling him that he’s very intelligent and creative, and his thoughts must naturally organize themselves into rhyming patterns, likely due to his OCD.

The closing line of this first “poem,” though, is a little strange. It reads, “There’s only one way out, and that’s to KILL BETH.” The problem is, Mike has never known anyone named Beth or any variation thereof, and has no idea where this admonition to kill her even came from. His therapist assures him that it was probably just unconscious, meaningless nonsense, like dream logic.

For a little while, the production of Wherever You Go appears to be progressing nicely. The play is undeniably brilliant, the cast is all gelling together well, and socially awkward Mike is even starting to come out of his shell a tiny bit. At one point, he attends a barbecue in the courtyard of the theater-owned apartment complex they’re all staying in, and surprises himself by having a good time.

But slowly, unsettling events begin to creep in. Mike’s spontaneous writing sessions get darker and darker, and sometimes seem to obliquely predict the future. They also all contain the phrase “Kill Beth” in some context.

Further, Mike starts having episodes of missing time, and takes to drinking again, at first without being entirely aware of it. He also hears what seems to be a family arguing in the apartment next to his, even though it’s supposed to be empty, and sometimes sees a shadowed figure peering into his window at night that’s gone when he goes outside to look.

As preparation for the play goes on, a bizarre accident sidelines his leading lady, and he’s forced to bring in a replacement with little time to spare. The arrival of the new cast member serves as the spark that ignites the subsequent spiral into utter madness, a descent that comprises a ghostly legend, the tragedy from Mike’s past, grisly murders, and altered perceptions of reality.

This was a great ride: concise, well-written, and irresistibly nail-biting, with the mystery becoming ever more intriguing with each weird new incident. The narrative is undeniably character-focused, as we’re inside Mike’s thoughts the entire time and see everything from his perspective, but this just serves to make the story that much more engaging, as we’re never entirely certain whether Mike is perceiving things as they really are. I also particularly loved the focus on the world of the theater as a setting for the story, as all the background detail about the cast and the production of the play was fascinating on its own and detailed enough to bring the entire story to life.

Jon Cohn’s books in general seem to be very well reviewed, and it’s easy to see why. Even though this is only the second work of his I’ve read, I thought it was dynamite, and it made me want to seek out even more of his stuff. I definitely recommend it if you’re into psychological horror with possibly unreliable narrators, and especially if you’re a fan of “descent-into-madness” kind of stories.

Until next time, keep it creepy, my friends.