Out Are The Lights

Imagine, if you will, a time when the mere act of turning off the lights was not merely a nightly ritual but a harbinger of dread. Richard Laymon, in his 1993 masterwork *Out Are the Lights*, invites you into a world where darkness does not just cloak your surroundings, but also reveals the unspeakable horrors that lurk just at the edge of your mind. What could be more terrifying than the thought of what awaits you when the lights go out? Perhaps it’s the existential dread of realizing you forgot to pay your electricity bill. Or, worse still, the gnawing thought that your most embarrassing moments might be materializing into physical forms in the shadows.

Set against the backdrop of a suburban landscape that could easily be mistaken for a postcard from mediocrity, Laymon invites you to ponder the question: what would you do if the lights went out, and you discovered you were not alone? Would you emerge as the hero of your own dark fairy tale, or would you succumb to the chaos of your own imagination? The book’s cover may be a tantalizing promise, a siren call of intrigue, but inside lurks a strange blend of horror and absurdity that keeps even the most stalwart reader guessing. Or perhaps just guessing why they purchased a book with such a title in the first place.

One might say that Laymon employs a kind of literary sleight of hand, where the mundane becomes terrifying and the terrifying becomes absurdly mundane. Picture a cast of characters that range from the predictably dull to the inexplicably eccentric. As you navigate through these pages, you might ask yourself if there’s a message buried beneath the chaos, or if Laymon simply enjoyed the idea of readers grappling with the absurdity of everyday fears. After all, what truly frightens us more: the monsters under our beds or the thought of forgetting to buy milk?

In a curious turn of events, as the story progresses, the lights flicker and fade, leading to moments where paranoia reigns supreme. Conversations take bizarre turns, and the plot twists like a pretzel at a carnival. The reader is invited—nay, compelled—to keep the lights on, even as the bravado of characters crumbles in the face of their own dark imaginings. Will they find salvation in the flickering glow of a failing bulb, or will they discover that their greatest enemy lurks within? And let’s not forget: there is always that one friend who insists on turning off the lights just to see what happens. You know the type.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate the published masterpiece that is *Out Are the Lights*. With its snazzy cover from Feature, it’s practically a collector’s item, albeit a quirky one that may elicit raised eyebrows on your bookshelf. Think of it as a conversation starter for your next gathering—“Oh, you haven’t read this? It’s a classic!”—followed by awkward silence as your guests shuffle nervously, wondering who brought the weirdo along.

Condition: Used but not abused, like a pair of funky old socks that still manage to hold onto a hint of their former glory. This tome comes with slightly dog-eared pages, the signature of a book that has seen its share of bedside lamplight and midnight musings. It proudly boasts a yellowing spine, a nod to its adventures through time and space (or perhaps just from shelf to shelf). The cover may have the occasional crease, perhaps from a reader who was so startled that they dropped it mid-chapter, and the pages may even whisper secrets of their own. But rest assured, it still contains Laymon’s eccentric genius, waiting to be ignited by your reading lamp.

So if you’re in the market for a book that straddles the line between the bizarre and the mundane, *Out Are the Lights* is just the ticket. Whether you’re looking to confront your fears or simply enjoy a tale that defies convention, this peculiar volume from Crappy Old Books is bound to add a unique twist to your literary escapades. Grab a flashlight, turn off the lights, and prepare yourself for a reading experience that is anything but ordinary!

Keep browsing: See more Horror books Other books by Richard Laymon