Of gonad-grabbing goblins, hard drive–erasing hauntings, and other such modern emanations from the pit of hell to keep a freelance, decidedly nonsectarian exorcist’s appointment book filled.
Mix a little churchly incense with some New Age ideas and perhaps some quiet Valley Girl talk, and the scene is set for this oddly entertaining—but still, to a skeptic, not entirely convincing—memoir by horror novelist and screenwriter Stavis (Adera: The Soul Stone, 2013, etc.), who, in her off hours, will do what she can to rid a client of supernatural squatters. We’re not talking the William Peter Blatty, priest-out-the-window thing, at least for the most part, inasmuch as Stavis is not licensed to pack a cross and holy water. All the same, she claims an ability to see “entities” and to send them out the door—and there are plenty of entities to be chased off: “99 percent of people are walking around with entities now, totally oblivious to them,” warns Stavis. Why blame bad bosses, marriages, vibes, and presidents when you can attribute the malaise to such entities? Well, take out your composition books—Stavis prefers them to electronics, since entities like to mess with technology—and follow along: there are different kinds of apparitional critters out there, including Wraiths; Realm Walkers; Furbies; the Sandman, who “wants a very specific type of energy, and it has to be sudden, intense fear—the kind that electrifies you from your head to your toes”; the Crystal Dragon, which “appears as pieces of crystal as it floats through space”; Poofs, which “are just there, and they’re never really a nuisance”; and “the smallest, least harmful entities out there,” Clives, which “attach to you in an effort to suck as much of your energy as possible.”
The otherworldly inclined will enjoy raising their frequencies, connecting with the spirits, and reading this offbeat yarn.