Ruzsa Makes Us Sit with Real Horrors Before Allowing us the Fantasy of Bloody Revenge in I Hope You Have Nightmares About Me

Review: I Hope You Have Nightmares About Me – Amanda Ruzsa

My Verdict: A harrowing journey through abuse and cathartic revenge.

 

While I love writing my little rants about the books I’ve read, I have learned I can’t really commit to ARC reviews. My reading habits are odd. I don’t read as regularly as I should so much as I hit the pages in hardcore sprints when the mood strikes me. In addition to strange reading rituals, my memory simply isn’t what it used to be. All this is to say sorry to the author for not reading the book and posting a review much sooner. I feel I have started more than one review this way.

If it is any consolation to Ruzsa, I had forgotten that I committed to an ARC review and had a digital copy waiting in my inbox. I have bought two physical copies on my own volition since making said commitment (I gifted the paperback to a friend and got myself the hardcover). Once I realized I had not fulfilled my ARC review duty, I Hope You Have Nightmares About Me shot to the top of my mutant TBR list.

I knew going in the story focused on enduring abuse and getting revenge. Seeing jerks get their comeuppance is always satisfying, so the book had my interest right away. However, I forgot something about stories like these. You often must endure the abuse before you get to the cathartic bits.

I Hope You Have Nightmares About Me is a harrowing book. The chapters detailing accounts of living through torment after torment are the most gut-wrenching of the bunch. No supernatural horror element here, just the awful, real things that men do.

Despite the discomfort I felt while reading some of these passages, I have a feeling Ruzsa was still taking it easy on us. None of it comes off as terribly graphic or exploitative. The author keeps it all tasteful, yet the emotional impact still hits.

One particular scene felt so awful. The main character has just fled an awful situation and is seeking help or refuge of any kind from her neighbors, which had me thinking of the moment in the original Halloween where Laurie Strode is running from house to house, screaming for help, only to have porch lights turn off on her (the scariest scene in the movie, by the way). Somehow, what happened in this book outshines that scene in cruelty while staying just as grounded and believable.

When the supernatural finally comes into play, you don’t feel fear. The story finally brings relief. The main character becomes empowered to get her bloody revenge, and by that point, you’re more than ready for some retaliation.

The story had a cool approach around character and perspective. Nearly every chapter changes character perspectives or character focus in some way. There is a distinct shift from the early first-person chapters into third-person, which happens at a very interesting moment. In fact, the story features more than one main character (though their stories echo each other’s in terrible ways). Add in the occasional modern epistolary chapter featuring true crime blogs for flavor.

Considering how Ruzsa packed all this into a relatively short length, you can see how the book never failed to keep me reading. The chapters felt relatively punchy and impactful while always shifting in style, not leaving much time to get bored. I would have read it in one sitting had I not started it late on a lunch break.

If I Hope You Have Nightmares About Me sounds like something you would like, I would go check it out now. Possible minor spoilers ahead, so stop if you haven’t read the story yet. Ok, bye.

So, I only have one problem with the book. It’s a really petty problem. It's probably just a matter of preference.

Here I go.

I like the title of the book. I love the way Ruzsa employs the line at the very end of the story (in the blood graffiti), which acts as a nice stinger to wrap everything up and enforce the idea the title implies. However, the phrase shows up a couple times too many. Specifically, when the characters say, “I hope you have nightmares about me,” right before they kill someone.

Listen, it’s a sick one-liner to throw out before ending a dude, I will give it that. However, you can hope all you want, and they still won’t have those nightmares. They are dead now. You killed them.

Unless, of course, the inner rules of the narrative sort of treat the death state like a dream state, which I guess it does. Or perhaps Ruzsa is using the characters to say the phrase directly to anybody reading who needs to be haunted by it.

Fine. It's fine. Leave me alone. I still really liked the book.