The Orange Eats Creeps
By Grace Krilanovich
Summary: It’s the ’90s Pacific Northwest refracted through a dark mirror, where meth and madness hash it out in the woods. . . . A band of hobo vampire junkies roam the blighted landscape—trashing supermarket breakrooms, praying to the altar of Poison Idea and GG Allin at basement rock shows, crashing senior center pancake breakfasts—locked in the thrall of Robitussin trips and their own wild dreams.
A girl with drug-induced ESP and an eerie connection to Patty Reed (a young member of the Donner Party who credited her survival to her relationship with a hidden wooden doll), searches for her disappeared foster sister along “The Highway That Eats People,” stalked by a conflation of Twin Peaks’ “Bob” and the Green River Killer, known as Dactyl.
With a scathing voice and penetrating delivery, Grace Krilanovich’s The Orange Eats Creeps is one of the most ferocious debut novels in memory.
Source: A paperback was given to me as a gift
I read this book for the 2018 POPSUGAR Reading Challenge prompt A Book with a Fruit or Vegetable in the Title. It’s been on my bookshelf for years and was gifted to me by the owners of a bookstore where I worked. I’m always up for vampire fiction and I finally had a great excuse to read it.
I don’t think I’m “cool” enough to read this book. The reviews are all quite good, but there’s an element to the culture of the book that I just don’t get. I think I get more of it now that I’ve lived in the PNW for the past year, whereas before I might not have really grasped things like why there would be homeless people not in urban areas, but I will also admit that there’s still a lot of PNW-ness that I will never understand and I definitely am not the right demographic in region or age to fully appreciate that part of it.
The book was weird and clever and told in a strange way and I think if it was about 30 pages long, I would have given it a better rating. There’s no need for this to be a book and not a short story and the “revolutionary” storytelling started to grate on my nerves as I strolled through the disjointed stream of consciousness type of narration.
I wanted to like this more, but I do appreciate the symbolism.