For fans of southern gothic folk horror from the author of Ghost Eaters. This read will captivate authors with its compelling dialogue and intriguing back story. Chapman fills in the backstory slowly while bringing you deeper into the current events taking place.

Horror is a playground. The playground for all our worst fears and anxieties, where we can be our nastiest, dirtiest, most complex selves and still, somehow, find connection and survival. There has been a trend of late - at least in my personal reading patterns - of exploring the shadowy edges of this playground where feeling is at its deepest. There are superstars of subtlety when it comes to slipping the depth of meaning to you under the guise of a bloodied mask, but sometimes the most affecting, harrowing versions of this phenomenon are right in your face.

Clay McLeod Chapman is one of the best in the modern game for in-your-face, stomach churning, nightmare-inducing journeys through radical empathy. You could pull any of his work from a hat and find at its center a pulsing heart of need for connection to the true vitality of love. 2022's Ghost Eaters was one of the most unexpectedly poignant meditations on grief and love I read that year, blubbering in the corner before I even truly realized what was happening. 

2023's What Kind of Mother is yet another journey through the tender nightmare world of Chapman's brain, and it is rife with fears of loss and desperation that reach down to the core of humanity ingrained in us from the dawn of time. What would you do, how would you survive, how far would you go if you lost your child?

There's a fascinating tension that fluctuates through the waves of popularity throughout the years over morally grey characters. They're our favorite to hold dear even as we watch them ocassionally commit atrocities. We can reason our way through their unfathomable actions because we love them. Because a part of what is shining through back at us is a reflection of our own desperations, formed into a strength we may or may not already believe ourselves to have. 

What Kind of Mother is a bottomless exploration of the areas of parenthood that turn us into versions of ourselves we never thought possible before. It follows Madi, a farmer's-market-psychic making her living giving people hope in desperate circumstances to make ends meet in an attempt to get her own life together for her daughter - who spends half her time in suburbia with her father, Madi's ex husband.

When a somewhat forced return to her old hometown leads to an encounter with ex boyfriend Henry, who has been battling an unfathomable loss of his own - the disappearance of his infant son some years ago - she is thrust into a labyrinthine terror. Henry insists she use her psychic abilities to help him locate his son Skyler, and Madi is forced to confront several inarticulable truths at once: while much of her profession is simply body language reading, there is something going on when the two of them focus their energies on the missing boy; Henry has never stopped looking for his infant son even as the town labeled him a sob story, and something is dangerously off about the whole tale.

Wherever you think What Kind of Mother is going, it will take you somewhere altogether else by its end. It is harrowing in its simplicity. There is a monster at the end of this book, but it will not be the one you imagine. As with all the best of Chapman's works, one moment it will turn your stomach and break you into a cold sweat, the next you'll be choking on the reveal of a heartbreak. Chapman writes horror at it's strongest, softest, most empathetic core. No one here is a perfect, flawless parent, but they love with a love that is more than love could have ever imagined itself to be. Madi is a messy, largely irresponsible yet somehow still levelheaded character. Henry is longing made human. The townspeople who make up the supporting cast could be from any small town in the world.

As quickly as he'll grab your heartstrings, Clay McLeod Chapman is an expert at using an unsuspecting turn of phrase to turn your stomach and give a whole new batch of nightmares. All he needs is the right context. What Kind of Mother is rampant with just as many monstrous fears as human ones. Body horror you never thought to imagine seeps its way through the pages of Mother equally as often as the moral dilemma beating through the novel's core. The audience-wide joke is a newly developed fear of crabs - and for good reason. They never quite sat right with me before, but if you think I'll be peacefully traipsing through the river and the beaches after this?
I say there is a moral dilemma at play at the heart of the novel, and it's true, in a sense. But it also might not be. Who decides how far is too far, after all, when it comes to protecting one's children?

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I would like to thank NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to receive an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. What Kind of Mother is available now wherever books are sold.

I surely appreciate the creepy intro yet the second half didn't turn out to be... attention-grabbing. I'm still glad I read it. I love a good horror novel.

Thank you to @QuirkBooks and @NetGalley for the #ARC!

How do you define parenthood? What lengths would you go for your child?

These questions are not only explored in What Kind of Mother, but taken to a whole new level. I admit, I wasn't prepared at all going into this book. For the first half I had convinced myself that this was a slightly paranormal thriller, but that tail end really packed a punch.

Along the Piankatank River on the coast of Virginia lies the sleepy town of Brandywine. There, 35-year old Madi lives in a motel and does palm readings to make a living. Back again in her hometown, familiar faces pop up, including her high school ex-boyfriend, Henry. Madi never thought much of her palm readings, but meeting Henry again has awakened some latent power, and she will use that power to help him find his missing child.

--Review--
Spoilers below because I can't hold back my thoughts. TW for crabs (animal).

3.5 stars

This book sent me though an insane loop. What started out as a sort of mystery-thriller turned into a full-blown horror/action novel and now that I'm thinking of it, it reminds me heavily of my experience watching James Wan's Malignant. What I expected to be a folie a deux thriller slapped me in the face with a crab-demon-child that sloughs off skin, eats people, and is overall very unsettling.

Madi had a child at the age of seventeen and was happy to raise Kendra, and has a fun Gilmore Girls-type relationship with her daughter. But she can't stop thinking about the what-if's surrounding her high school ex, Henry. It made a lot of sense to me for Madi to be hung up on these supposed ideas, especially when she feels like her life has fallen apart and she doesn't quite have a future at all. There were parts in Madi's mental undoing that felt like a stretch, especially with how easily she gives up her relationship with Kendra for a child she continually shows little to no affection for.

Henry's spiral was what sent me into "oh no what is happening" territory. His trauma with losing several children with the love of his life sent him into full-on denial regarding the life of his son Skylar. Between Henry and Madi, it did feel like Chapman gave a lot of thought to different kinds of grief to give his characters motivation, though I do kind of wish this book had stuck with a folie a deux horror rather than an actual crab-demon-child horror.

Sure, the gore was intense and I found myself pausing, mouth agape at some of the things this changeling of a creature did and violence it committed. But maybe my idea of horror is more focused on a psychological aspect, where Henry and Madi are simply falling apart together and imagining that this child is doing these acts.

Overall, it's a wild ride but with an ending that just kept going. If that could've been wrapped up more concisely, then I would've enjoyed it more.

As I wrote while I was reading, this book can be summed up with: men will literally think their dead child into a resurrected live monster baby rather than go to therapy.

This book is so delightfully, provocatively strange and confronts some sensitive topics like child death, miscarriage/infertility, and suicide. I would recommend this to fans of Ashley Audrain's "The Push," people who maybe want to read about experiences they feel alone in because society as a whole doesn't talk about. I'm not a parent, though having talked to friends who are, I can imagine this striking a chord for them. But what struck me most as a non-parent with PTSD was the exploration of how grief and trauma can fracture and transform us, how distractions from grief can become so parasitic and obsessive. It was fuil of body horror and very unsettling, which is not typically my jam, and I admit to having needed to take some breaks from the gorier bits. But overall, I found it so captivating and I can't wait to read it again, and to see more from Chapman.

4.5 stars rounded up

The book started off a bit slow, but I realized the information was needed for the plot. A palm reader, Madi, whose readings are usually incorrect, comes across her ex from years past and reads his palm. Henry has had a lot of sad events over the years, including a missing baby boy, Skyler, and the suicide of his wife, Grace. While Madi performs the reading, she starts having visions of his son and tries to convince Henry to not give up searching. He and Madi continue searching for, Skyler. What they find is terrifying. Was Grace's death a suicide or something more? Is searching for Skyler a curse or a blessing. Madi and Henry will find that out, if they survive.

Thank you to NetGalley

A dash of Southern Gothic, a bit of fairytale, and a sprinkling of Reddit creepypasta.
What Kind of Mother begins with an insular Americana town with all the tropes: gossiping biddies, cheap motels and teen pregnancy, and a central mystery surrounding a missing child and his grieving father. This story unravels quickly into something very different, peeling away into a hallucinatory horror about monsters and those who create and love them.

The strengths of What Kind of Mother lie in the descriptions of the Virginia Peninsula and its many rivers, and its occasionally revolting interplay of flesh and exoskeleton. The imagery is astounding and visceral. I looked it up and a fear of crabs is called Kabourophobia, something that What Kind of Mother has now given me in abundance.

On the other hand, I couldn't give myself into the main character and her world. Occasionally, I felt that some elements didn't tie in with the narrative but were added for their creep factor alone: I'm thinking about a scene with some wasps.

Overall, the book was short enough (I read in one four-hour sitting) that the thrills of the horror outshone any issues I had with the narrative or character.

This book is a hybrid of genres. A southern gothic combined with body, grief and folk horror with a psychological mystery entwined in it all. This book is strange, confusing and hard to understand. I think the main problem is that it just doesn’t know what it wants to be, so the entirety of the kitchen sink is thrown in. The writing itself was lovely to read- Chapman has a wonderful mastery of language. But since I could never quite understand the plot or figure out what was going on, I felt his skill was wasted. This one disappointed me, but I’m sure I will read whatever Chapman writes next because I suspect he has another great novel in him. Thank you to @netgalley and @quirkbooks for this arc.

"What Kind of Mother" by Clay McLeod Chapman is a novel that blends supernatural horror with domestic suspense to create a gripping and unsettling story.

Firstly, many thanks to Titan Books and NetGalley for my arc of this book

‘What Kind of Mother’ begins in mystery and intrigue, peaks in chaos and bedlam, and ends in an all-encompassing sorrow that neatly ties the knot on this gift-wrapped (sea) monster of a story – it is quite the ride.

The title of the book is a rhetorical question afraid to complete itself. It is for the story to fill in the blanks: Just what would a mother sacrifice for their child? How far does a mother’s love go? How could a mother do that to their child? Parenthood is hooked under the microscope in this book and scrutinised wholly before being stripped down to its core components, its darkest recesses left for all to see.

The absence to the question of ‘what kind of mother’ is filled by Skyler, Henry McCabe’s missing infant. Skyler is a lot of things but before anything else he is the swell of parental grief and despair that permeates throughout the pages. The story of Skyler is terrifying in its mundanity; physically losing a child can happen to any parent at any time, and even amongst the supernatural elements of the novel, the feelings attached to Skyler’s absence are grounded in absolute reality. Madi and Henry are two sides of the same coin in this regard. Madi mourns the loss of her daughter who left to go and live with her father, but she mourns through regret and reflection on her own perceived failures as a mother. And so we circle back to the original unfinished question: what kind of mother… is Madi? The book slowly unpeels the answer to this question for all to see, including Madi.

‘What Kind of Mother’ is a mosaic of leading questions and unfinished answers that explodes into chaos as the pieces come together. It is a book that very much leads itself to being read emotively rather than with an analytical eye. As a reader I was very much just along for the ride, trying (and failing) to catch every curveball that was thrown at me. I think to stop and try to make sense of everything happening would be to lose the magical essence of the story. The characters shine in the waves of emotion that they act from and we as readers are observers to the madness. We can make sense of the wreckage later.

In a book that delves so intensely into themes of parental responsibility, grief, and adulthood in general, it is love that shines the brightest. No matter how misguided, love instructs most of the actions taken throughout the story, whether that love be spousal, paternal or maternal. The story is anchored by love no matter the darkness that surrounds it, and the poem at the very end of the story is the flicker of hope needed to remind us of exactly that. It is perfect.

Palm reader Madi Price returns to her hometown with her daughter with her tail between her legs. She has no money, no home, and nothing to her name. She reconnects with a boy (now a man) she knew from school, and he asks her to find his missing son. This is the first Clay McLeod Chapman book I've read, and while it is an intriguing premise, the storyline was trite and familiar.

What Kind of Mother absolutely swept my feet out from underneath me.

I knew I needed to request an ARC when I saw Chapman mentioning his newest book on Twitter. I've been a fan since Ghost Eaters, and I had no doubt this one would be just as incredible. I received my ARC and happily prepared to set in.

And then I had a baby. And suddenly all the terrible things in the book got so much worse.

Man, this book is going to shake so many people to their very core. It's brutal, grim, distressing, and yet somehow so important as it examines relationships. Definitely another Chapman book to slap my Staff Pick sticker on.

Thank you so much for the early read! I am STILL thinking about this book! Absolutely eerie and unsettling. One of Chapman's best!

Interesting tale I'd consider a Southern Gothic meets Domestic Suspense. CMC is a detailed and immersive author whose other books have definitely given me food for thought long after the final page. Fair warning, there's a wee bit of body horror in this one. I didn't mind, though. It went hand in hand with the story. The book read very audibly and I enjoyed the sensory experience.

Madi Price has returned to her hometown so that her daughter can have better opportunities as her dad, now married and fancy, can offer more than the motel room Madi pays for as a palm reader. When she runs into a
high school boyfriend, Henry, she actually sees things. Henry is adamand that his newborn son who disappeared five years ago on the night his wife committed suicide, is still alive out there, somewhere. What they find is much more terrifying than any theories floating around the town.

Though this isn’t my absolutely favorite of Chapman’s, I’ll read anything he writes, and I still thoroughly enjoyed it. I devoured this one quickly and really appreciated the exploration of motherhood and what women sacrifice for their children. I liked the character development and supernatural elements.

After absolutely loving Ghost Eaters I thought this book would be perfect for me too. Unfortunately, it wasn't. I liked this book, but didn't love it in the same way. There are two different POVs, one set in the past and one in the present. I very much preferred the present timeline/POV and wish he had found a way to tell the story using only one so my interest didn't wax and wane throughout the book. I LOVED the body horror and creepy kid aspects of this book. The imagery was also solid in the southern gothic setting as well. Ultimately, what brought this book down the most for me were the themes of motherhood. (Which means they might work perfectly for you)! As someone who isn't a mother I didn't connect well enough I think. Therefore, I couldn't really understand Madi's motivation and decision making throughout. Overall, just not the book for me, but I think it was well done and others will really connect with it.

I enjoyed the first part of this book, but I did keep wondering if it was actually supposed to be billed as a horror novel. The rest of the book didn't make a lot of sense to me. I didn't really enjoy this book. The story seemed very disjointed and sometimes repetitive. The horror wasn't horror. It was just gross, but not gross enough for me to wonder what in the world I was reading.

Atmospheric and creepy, Chapman's What Kind of Mother, is a gothic horror with a mystery element. The characters are well designed and the beginning of the book does a wonderful job of drawing in the reader and creating feelings and interest in the characters. Madi returns to her home town with her 17 year old daughter, Kendra. She reconnects with her high school ex boyfriend, Henry, whose infant son has been missing for the past five years. When he enlists her psychic help, Madi starts having visions and questioning if she really is a psychic. From there the story takes off. I loved the mystery element and the dark almost oppressive panicky feeling created by the author. The story is good, but I am not a fan of body horror. For me, this element was a bit too much. Overall its a really good creepy read. It's scary, but in the end I found myself actually caring for the characters. I was also surprised that it was even a bit of a heartwarming story as well.

Somebody said this book was like if a Nicholas Sparks book was a horror novel. I completely agreed and I loved it. The beautiful atmospheric writing in this book really makes you feel like you really are near the Chesapeake Bay and it makes it a little bit creepier.





Thank you NetGalley for the ARC!

McLeod Chapman is a household name in horror/thrillers. I've tried another of their works, but this helped me conclude this author isn't for me. I appreciate the author's brevity, but specifically for this story I was lost in how fragmented it became due to the main character's visions. I think this definitely is for other readers, but I appreciate the opportunity to read this work!