T. Kingfisher’s A House With Good Bones is a horror novel with a decent premise, a likeable narrator and a plethora of creepy details and affinities that flesh out all compelling horror books. You can’t help but feel on edge when bugs and vultures are involved.

There were things I really liked about this book, namely the description and eerie feel of the house. These factors are integral to writing a setting that is actively off-putting and scary and I believe T. Kingfisher pulled this off really well. The generation disparity makes this family dynamic interesting too, aiding in the strange behaviours and ways in which the characters act throughout the novel.

For the most part I enjoyed the main character and her narrative style. The short sentences are a key part to horror as they speed up pacing, riding up the tension at the opportune moments and giving a pause with longer sentences when the action is resting. I wouldn’t change anything about the book’s length, pacing or tension. My disappointment lies in the character’s relevant career and interests which, in my opinion, hinders the slow-burning build of eerie occurrences within the house. Her rational ruins the flow of the story and inhibits the essential element of this kind of book. It’s scare factor. As I mentioned earlier, the description is fantastic and the sensory detail given in these moments is working wonders for imagining the sights and sounds. When that visual build up gets beaten down by an emotionally-removed, practical voice, the tension and pace of the story hits a wall. How can you be scared anymore when the character isn’t giving us fear to feed off? How can you feel unsettled when the character isn’t exactly an insightful or intuitive person?

The last sixty pages were well handled as not only does the pacing, tension and uneasiness build up right through to the end, but the handle on emotions and fearfulness expected in a horror novel comes to the surface. For my tolerance level when it comes to scares and unsettling sights, I feel like it could have gone another step or to into the horror. A little more sinister in the house, a little more gruesome in the details, a little more otherworldly in the climax.

A House With Good Bones isn’t a bad book but I wouldn’t say it’s a great one either. It’s a good book, much as it’s name states. This hasn’t turned me off reading more of T. Kingfisher’s works, in fact, I would love to read a thriller novel of theirs as I feel like this book did lean into psychological thriller and paranormal fiction more than what i deem to be horror. That could simply be a me thing.