Doing my blog tour today, so many books appealed that I started scribbling down titles on a piece of paper. I wasn’t really thinking while doing so, but when I reviewed the list later, I was amused to see within a few lines of each other Black Milk (a Turkish novel from Elif Shafah, on women’s relations to creativity, located in one of my favorite cities in the world – Istanbul), Black Juice (from Margo Lanagan, a writer I’ve been meaning to discover) and the anthology Black Water (an 1984 collection of supernatural stories Audrey Niffeneger mentioned in her recent Goodreads interview).

All these dark liquids somehow reminded me that I didn’t review Poppy Z. Brite’s Lost Souls — a vampire book I read under the pretense of the R.I.P. Challenge. To tell the truth I haven’t much to say about it. It is the story of a young vampire searching for his family; he will have to choose between kindred creative/ tortured souls and his blood kin – vampires lost in blood and sex lust. 

I’m not a prudish reader, but the abundance of incest/ pedophilia was a little ridiculous and just killed any eroticism. I wasn’t shocked so much as bored – the worst thing that can happen to a story. The problem was compounded by the fact that the two characters I was most interested in (Ghost, a “sensitive”, and Christian, an old vampire) did not gain the depth I was hoping for. I really wanted to get to know them, and was really curious how their stories would intertwine. I also wanted to see a female character that wasn’t a thinly veiled plot device… In the end however, I didn’t get any of my wishes. So while not exactly bad (after all, I wanted something to happen, so I had some interest), the novel just didn’t feel substantial. I have a feeling I’ll forget it entirely pretty soon.