Hip, innovative reads can sort of get lost in a sea of mediocre chick-lit, strange militaristic alternate history ("wait, Robert E. Lee has been living under Antarctica this whole time?!"), and the legal thriller that's like, well, that OTHER legal thriller.
Not. That there's. Anything. Wrong with. Those Books. They have their purpose.
In either case, it might be easy to miss Toby Barlow's Sharp Teeth. Spined-out, it's subtle. Tug it away from its home and you soon find that menacing canine muscle-mass from your childhood anxieties. Teeth bared. Claws to the ready. You're 3 seconds away from a hospital run for a rabies shot.
Inside comes a bit of a risk. An L.A. gang story. Well, pack story. With werewolves, see? Written in free verse. With an underlying love story. Because we all know that werewolves have a rough time getting some play when vampires have all the fun.
But don't expect some campy, retro gigglefest. That red cover is NOT indicative of gushing dyed corn syrup. Rather, Barlow takes the noir route, fully equipped with a trip to Chinatown, cigarette smoke drifting into the shadows, and visions of honeyed blonds.
And for someone who calls New York and Detroit home, he seems comfortable with L.A.'s complexities. Cultural layering. Jabs of dialect. An already surreal landscape highlighted by a thrilling supernatural storyline.
And it doesn't take long to see that Barlow likes his music. He even offered up a playlist of sorts for the reader that includes My Chemical Romance, Tom Waits, and Cat Power. Late-night/early-morning tunes for free refills of black coffee. And you'll need them.
So seek this one out. It's over on the new fiction display. Far left. Top shelf. Barlow. Little dog. Seems harmless right now.
Official page here.
Read an excerpt here.
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