Joyride

Buckle up, guys, because we’re able to take a wild ride on the Bipolar Express. Yes, I am out of my tree, and I’m about to confound every statement I’ve made in weeks past when I say I loved Jack Ketchum’s Joyride. While it had its share of the ole torture porn and definitely lent credence to the argument that women are subjugated in horror fiction, two of the things I’ve mentioned bother me about the genre, I thoroughly enjoyed this fast paced read. I felt the “on camera” carnage – albeit limited compared to what I understand Ketchum does in most of his books – and the degradation of women was spot on, and in this case it definitely worked for me.

What I liked most about this book wasn’t so much the story – which was no less stellar – but rather the substance and the structure. (Alliteration more or less unavoidable, sorry.) Rather than making this post a book report, I’d like to talk more about what Ketchum does that I find admirable and seek to emulate.

First off, the murder spree depicted in this novel is reminiscent of the real life spree of Howard Unruh, a veteran of the second World War who had a similar list to Wayne Lock’s: a deadly version of Santa’s “Naughty or Nice” list. As someone who writes about true crime – “real” murders to be exact – I found this novel to be a textbook exercise in What to Do When You Write About Real Serial Killers. Although this is my first experience with Ketchum’s work, a little Internet research reveals that many of his books are based on actual events and in Joyride, his mastery of this genre is apparent. Ketchum seems to have a keen understanding of a truth I hold to be self evident: The world is a sick and twisted place, and the real life atrocities man visits upon his fellow man are often way more sadistic and shocking than those found in books that are entirely fictional. Reality trumps fiction, every time.

Moving on to structure, I really liked the way the point of view switches in the novel. In a longer novel, it might not work as well, but given the brevity of this work it was a great storytelling device. I’m doing this in my own thesis novel and have been a little concerned whether it’s going to be effective, but seeing how Ketchum accomplishes this is both comforting and inspiring. Just as we’ve often been counseled to note the weaknesses in other author’s books so we don’t make the same mistakes in our own work, it’s also important to note the strengths so we can utilize similar techniques as we write.

Back to brevity, I think one of the reasons I so enjoyed Joyride was it’s a quick enough read that you stay on the edge of your seat the whole time. There’s plenty of mayhem but it’s an abbreviated enough form that I never felt Ketchum was bashing me over the head with the gory details, although there were some of those as well. I had no issue getting and remaining invested in the story, and at no point did my interest falter.

In closing, I want to address the fact that this author isn’t shy about depicting graphic violence towards women. Ordinarily that’s a “button” – that John Dixon first mentioned and Jenn Loring mentioned again in her post about this book – for me as well, but I didn’t feel this particular novel went overboard with it. What Ketchum’s own feelings are about women, and how misogynistic or not his general illustration of them is I can’t really speak to since I’ve only read Joyride. I’ll likely pick up a few more of his novels in the future to determine if this is truly a hallmark of his work.