Nick Bullman has spent his youth cultivating celebrity. As a
wrestling star known as “Widowmaker,” Nick has his share of wealth, fame, and
plenty of breasts pumped full of plastic. But it’s a fateful meeting with two
delusional, knife-wielding fans that alter the course of Nick’s life. Newman
digs deep, finds the words and imagery that make the story burn, and the result
is nothing less than pure nightmare fuel. The horror here lies in the very real
possibilities of an event like this, and the curtain is never dropped. The
reader is up front and center as witness while the men carve their madness into
Nick’s face, leaving him a horribly disfigured monstrosity.
After the incident, Nick finds himself back in his hometown,
Midnight, North Carolina, at the request of his estranged daughter, Melissa.
While Nick was no doubt a terrible father in the past, he hopes that he can
make steps toward something better, something good. In doing so, he agrees to
help Melissa find Sophie, her daughter and Nick’s granddaughter that he has
never met.
What follows is a galloping, blood-smeared good time. Newman
has a unique talent for setting. Time and time again I felt as if I had
stumbled into my own childhood in a small, white trash town. If Newman himself
didn’t grow up in such a town, I’d be mightily surprised. If you’re like me,
you’ll lose yourself so completely that you’ll inevitably feel as if you’ve
stumbled down a rabbit hole somewhere and woken up right back where you were born.
Newman takes characters that are typically marginalized and
lets us root for them. Leon, a tweaker and Widowmaker’s biggest fan, becomes a
character that both surprises and breaks your heart. I admire a writer who is
able to see the nuances of both good and evil in every character. Even Koko
Puff, who is meant to be despicable, has clear motivations, and I appreciate
that Newman doesn’t rely on used up tropes and stereotypes. But there is the
despicable here, too, and in “Daddy,” Newman has crafted a character that
genuinely sets the skin to crawling.
I didn’t expect to enjoy this book. I’ve never been a fan of
wrestling, but it only took two pages to hook me. I’ve seen others call this
book “white trash noir.” I’d have to wholeheartedly concur. But for Newman, “white
trash” is anything but an insult. In fact, I’d call it high praise. I sincerely
loved this book, and look forward to reading more from this highly talented
author.
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