"Mr. Suicide" Book Review

Nothing is worse than a promising novel that has lost its way. Sadly, Nicole Cushing’s Mr. Suicide follows that sad mediocre path.

The first chapter really sucked me in. It tackles the subject of murder or more importantly, the average person’s views on it. I think everyone has thought about killing someone; the guy who cut you off in traffic or the girl that broke your heart. And that Cushing addresses these socially unacceptable thoughts so honestly is what initially drew me to the story.

The story is told from the first person point of view. It follows an unnamed protagonist who finds himself haunted by two entities. One is Mr. Suicide, who vigilantly tries to to lure him into killing himself. The other is known only as the Darkness, who promises him untold rewards if he can follow the rules

Mr. Suicide shows up trying everything he can to get this boy to kill himself. In any other book this, the young boy would be toting a gun to third period, but this story takes him down a darker path. I strongly empathize with the main character. I know all too well what it’s like to feel like the outsider. Cushing gets points for this.

It’s the middle of the book that things change. No longer innovative, the reader is exposed to something more disgusting. Something, well, rather sleazy, and not the good kind of tequila bender, waking in a Motel 6 with a stranger sleaze that we all know and love.

Our antagonist is obsessed with deformities, an addiction that gets worse when he meets the entity known as the Darkness. The Darkness declares our title character fascinating and promises him the untold rewards if he gives into his darker nature.

The ending comes off as rather convenient and rushed. I was honestly confused and had to go back a few pages, which was rather unnerving due to a graphic sex murder scene that accompanied it.

I might be biased, but even though I’m a horror nut, I get squicked out easily and trust me, this book is full of it. Perhaps someone with a less visual imagination and sensitive stomach could handle this story and appreciate it more. As for I, once is enough and I come away from Mr. Suicide feeling somehow inexplicably dirty.