Name: What Kind of Mother
Rating: 3.625 (4 reviews)
ISBN: 9781683694335

Clay Chapman

A Novel

What Kind of Mother

Clay McLeod Chapman

“What Kind of Mother mixes Southern Gothic, a missing child story, and body horror into an entertaining brew sure to inform your nightmares.”—Paul Tremblay, author of The Cabin at the End of the World and A Head Full of Ghosts After striking out on her own as a teen mom, Madi Price is forced to return to her hometown of Brandywine, Virginia, with her seventeen-year-old daughter. With nothing to her name, she scrapes together a living as a palm reader at the local farmers market. It’s there that she connects with old high school flame Henry McCabe, now a reclusive local fisherman whose infant son, Skyler, went missing five years ago. Everyone in town is sure Skyler is dead, but when Madi reads Henry’s palm, she’s haunted by strange and disturbing visions that suggest otherwise. As she follows the thread of these visions, Madi discovers a terrifying nightmare waiting at the center of the labyrinth—and it’s coming for everyone she holds dear. Combining supernatural horror with domestic suspense into a visceral exploration of parental grief, What Kind of Mother cements Clay McLeod Chapman's reputation as a “star” (Vulture) and “the twenty-first century’s Richard Matheson” (Richard Chizmar, Chasing the Boogeyman.)

This didn’t go at all how I thought it would. Hands down the weirdest book I have ever read, but I didn’t hate it. At least, I don’t think I did? It is so unclear lol.

Cass Paul

This didn’t go at all how I thought it would. Hands down the weirdest book I have ever read, but I didn’t hate it. At least, I don’t think I did? It is so unclear lol.



         I recall the Scholastic book fairs with an equal amount of fondness and dread.  I’ve loved books since I was quite young, and the book fair was like a mystical wonderland for me; a treasure trove of books and assorted accessories any book-lover would love.  I loved to browse and smell the books.  I did, however, dread the book fair, because I never had any money to spend.  I grew up in a pretty poor household, and while we always had a place to live and food to eat, we didn’t have much extra.  As a grown-up, I want nothing more than the equivalent of that scholastic book fair (book stores aren’t as exciting, for some reason), and I was overjoyed when I discovered the Scarelastic Book Fair held yearly in McCordsville, Indiana.  Held at one of our favorite local breweries, which is also horror themed, it features an abundance of horror literature and the authors that wrote them.  Hubs and I purchased VIP tickets so we could get a head start and go crazy buying books and getting them signed.  I was in heaven. 

            Clay McLeod Chapman was one of the authors that made the trip to Indiana for this event, and while we didn’t purchase any of his books that day, I made it my personal mission to read at least one book from each of the authors that I talked to that day.  I try to get most of my reading material from the library, so I was thrilled to find that this one was available through Libby.  I was excited to get started, so imagine my slight disappointment when the first third or so of the book read like a romance novel.  It was not off to a good start. 

            Then….THEN, it became one of the most bat-shit crazy books I have ever read.  It reminded me of a book I read recently about a man who was slowly turning into a shark and how his wife handled his “transition.” However, that book had warm and loving undertones, this one did not.  It was like a cross between that book and 

…this father did everything in his power to keep his child alive.  I read a couple of the most gory scenes I’ve ever seen in print, and I’ve been a Stephen King fan since I was 10-years-old.  It’s both appalling disgusting and delightful at the same time (unless you’re not a gory horror fan, in which case, this is not the book for you). 

            To sum it up, I loved it.  Like a motorist driving slowly past a gnarly accident hoping (but not hoping) to see mangled remains of the unfortunate victims, I couldn’t put it down.  I had to keep reading…I had to know the what…the WHY!  I still don’t know, but holy moly was this book a wild ride. 

Kristen Claiborn

         I recall the Scholastic book fairs with an equal amount of fondness and dread.  I’ve loved books since I was quite young, and the book fair was like a mystical wonderland for me; a treasure trove of books and assorted accessories any book-lover would love.  I loved to browse and smell the books.  I did, however, dread the book fair, because I never had any money to spend.  I grew up in a pretty poor household, and while we always had a place to live and food to eat, we didn’t have much extra.  As a grown-up, I want nothing more than the equivalent of that scholastic book fair (book stores aren’t as exciting, for some reason), and I was overjoyed when I discovered the Scarelastic Book Fair held yearly in McCordsville, Indiana.  Held at one of our favorite local breweries, which is also horror themed, it features an abundance of horror literature and the authors that wrote them.  Hubs and I purchased VIP tickets so we could get a head start and go crazy buying books and getting them signed.  I was in heaven. 

            Clay McLeod Chapman was one of the authors that made the trip to Indiana for this event, and while we didn’t purchase any of his books that day, I made it my personal mission to read at least one book from each of the authors that I talked to that day.  I try to get most of my reading material from the library, so I was thrilled to find that this one was available through Libby.  I was excited to get started, so imagine my slight disappointment when the first third or so of the book read like a romance novel.  It was not off to a good start. 

            Then….THEN, it became one of the most bat-shit crazy books I have ever read.  It reminded me of a book I read recently about a man who was slowly turning into a shark and how his wife handled his “transition.” However, that book had warm and loving undertones, this one did not.  It was like a cross between that book and Pet Sematary…this father did everything in his power to keep his child alive.  I read a couple of the most gory scenes I’ve ever seen in print, and I’ve been a Stephen King fan since I was 10-years-old.  It’s both appalling disgusting and delightful at the same time (unless you’re not a gory horror fan, in which case, this is not the book for you). 

            To sum it up, I loved it.  Like a motorist driving slowly past a gnarly accident hoping (but not hoping) to see mangled remains of the unfortunate victims, I couldn’t put it down.  I had to keep reading…I had to know the what…the WHY!  I still don’t know, but holy moly was this book a wild ride. 

What Kind of Mother A Novel

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