Michael Seidlinger
312 Pages
Enigmatic Ink, January 2013
By guest reviewer Melanie Page
No matter how much or how little torture is shown in a movie,
for the victim, it has to be never-ending. Real time freezes and torture time
is the new reality. Places in Michael J. Seidlinger’s novel My Pet Serial Killer froze in time--but
not for the victim--for the killer. The novel opens with college student Claire
attending parties and going to clubs to find the perfect person. She emphasizes
she’s an “observer,” lest we forget, which makes her seem extra creepy; she’s
looking for the perfect boyfriend, right? Not true--Claire wants the perfect
serial killer, one she can take home and call her own, her “pet.” Naturally, a
pet needs a master, and Claire becomes just that to the man she finds, Victor.
Thanks to her major in forensics, Claire knows know to make her
pet immortal in history, if only he’ll “satisfy” her, which doesn’t really have
a definition other than making sure Victor tells her the flavor of each
victim’s genitals. Claire supports the whole operation from her apartment,
making sure her pet isn’t caught. The concept is unique, one that begs a reader
to explore the book.
I applaud Seidlinger’s boldness to take on such a sensitive
subject and get inside the head of a killer’s puppetmaster. There were some issues
with pacing, though, making the book speed through areas that required more
information and dragging in places that had been iterated and reiterated
before. In twelve pages Claire finds her killer (if you don’t count the
italicized sections that instruct reads to skip them if he/she wishes), but we
learn so little about her. It’s unclear if she’s a graduate/undergraduate, who
pays for her apartment, where are her friends/family. The simple logistic are
fuzzy.
The italicized sections also made the story drag, being unclear
about setting, character, and narrator (confusion between he/she/I/you). What
do they each mean? Again, these sections ruminate on the observer/observed,
master/pet, sex/violence. The last italicized section even functions as the audience;
what did we think of the book (here it’s called a movie), and did any of it
make sense? Did we hate or love it?
I think the best tool for Seidlinger’s novel would have been a
firm editor who would cut unnecessary repetition. I wanted sections like this
to move a whole lot faster:
“But see how
I’m not really telling you the whole story? I’m not going to because leaving a
bit of it to mystery keeps everyone
guessing. It turns a person’s mind into a powerful weapon. Guess all you want
but you’re not going to figure it all out. And then you’re thinking maybe it’s
impossible to figure out. Eventually you might give up, but the mystery never
gives up on anyone.”
Could 100 pages been removed and we still get the same book? I
think we would have had a stronger, more polished book. Even on the sentence
level, a good editor would have corrected spelling, grammar, and punctuation
errors. I don’t typically point these things out, but they were distracting (“I
walk from room to room a finger where it feels good”).
A brave take on an unusual subject, I could already see My Pet Serial Killer being used as a
basis for the next Hollywood horror.
Bio: Melanie Page is a MFA graduate, adjunct instructor, and recent founder of
Grab the Lapels, a site that only reviews books written by women (www.grabthelapels.weebly.com).