Synopsis:
Olyoke, Tennessee is home to a Dollywood-like theme park, generations of troubled families, and the warnings of a dead architect turned conscripted prophet, who writes of a coming cataclysm.
As the fire nears, DARCY, a Dolly Parton impersonator, finds strange worms in the swamp and feeds them to her dog, who then speaks with the voice of her dead mother. Recently divorced LYLE KNOX is called through its dreams by a strange house, and through its investigation, discovers that Lyle Knox itself is not a person, but a structure. MAGGIE WARNER organizes a theater production to stave off her gnawing misery and becomes convinced that only the people she sees in her dreams are real. Moreover, the Whistler—the man Maggie becomes when she sleeps—welcomes the town’s impending Judgment with open arms.
All destinies converge in Olyoke.
None will escape unchanged.
My Edition:
ARC provided by the publisher
My Thoughts:
I think the synopsis gives you some really important information about Olyoke – this is a novel in the same way a tomato is a fruit. Like, is it really though? Olyoke is a fever dream put to paper. It’s a rapidly-spiraling mind-fuck given form. In other words, Olyoke is a perfect edition to the Tenebrous Press roster. It feels like a Tenebrous Press book. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. It is a story told in a very non-linear way. It’s a sort of mixed-bag of an epistolary novel. I’m not 100% certain that’s a thing, but it is for the purpose of this one book. It is told through various people’s direct POVs, but also through internet chatter, podcast transcriptions, etc. I tell you this not because I know some people don’t go for that sort of thing. But hear me: YOU SHOULD BRANCH OUT FOR THIS ONE.
I didn’t wake up one day thinking “boy, I sure could read an interwoven tapestry of bizarre and disturbing stories akin to The King in Yellow but inexplicably wrapped in a shroud of Tennessee hollers and Dolly Parton-type impersonators,” and yet…it turns out I sure could read that. And I loved it. I can’t tell you enough how much I absolutely loved this thoroughly distressing book. I almost cried when the cursed play was brought up! Okay, I’m being a little bit dramatic – but I was really happy. I am an absolute sucker for anything that can be even mildly wrapped around to The King in Yellow.
Olyoke itself feels less like a town than a sentient force. And that sentient force has ‘kid with a magnifying glass near an anthill on a sunny day’ vibes. Like, you’re probably fine until it notices you, but once it knows you’re there, prepare for the worst. Things are going to get crazy-bad for you really fast. The sort of death-cult rot that plagues the town (or maybe just is the town) is definitely going to get everyone in the end. Each little narrative gem that Endwell presents as a part of the tapestry that is Olyoke only furthers this certainty – although they may seem at times only tangentially connected by the town, and nothing else save general weirdness, rest assured that each entry brings us closer to the inevitable.
Rating:
I don’t even care. 5 stars. A million stars. All the stars in the cosmos for Olyoke. This book is so beautifully, so delightfully bizarre that I would love nothing more than to walk down the street slapping people in the face with it, impolitely demanding that they read it. Sign me up for that poetic death cult. Clearly I’m going to need to pick myself up a physical copy to re-read at will.
Olyoke
By: Vincent Endwell
Tenebrous Press
Published: March 24, 2026
ISBN: 9781959790532
Paperback, E-book
160, 192, 205, or 212 pages, depending on who you ask
