The Mercy of the Tide

I’ll admit, I went into *The Mercy of the Tide* expecting another *Stranger Things*-lite nostalgia trip, but Rosson’s novel is far more interested in emotional excavation than cheap scares. The story unfolds like a bruise—slowly, then all at once—centering on a cast of flawed, deeply real characters whose pain feels more haunting than any ghost. The horror here isn’t just in the supernatural elements (though the imagery of the tide’s ‘mercy’ is chillingly effective) but in the way Rosson ties it to grief, addiction, and the quiet violence of small-town secrets. That said, the pacing in the first act drags just enough to test your patience; Rosson takes his time setting the board, and if you’re here for immediate thrills, you might bristle. Joshua Saxon’s narration, though, is what elevates this from a good read to a great *listen*. He doesn’t overplay the horror—no dramatic whispers or hammy gasps—but his delivery is so grounded that when the weirdness hits, it lands harder. His portrayal of Trissa, the sharp-tongued teen at the story’s heart, is particularly standout; she’s equal parts vulnerable and vicious, and Saxon nails the balance. My one critique? The sound design, while immersive, occasionally steps on the dialogue during quieter moments. It’s a minor quibble, but in a story this mood-driven, every missed word stings. Still, by the time the final act crashes in (literally and figuratively), you’ll be too busy holding your breath to care. This is horror for people who like their chills served with a side of heartache—messy, melancholic, and impossible to shake.