While both zombies and vampires have enjoyed somewhat of a revival in pop culture recently (if you count the utter desecration of everything that’s awesome about vampires known as the Twilight series), werewolves have gotten the shaft (yes, even including the awful Twilight series).
That is, until Toby Barlow let loose with his debut novel Sharp Teeth. Everything about this book is awesome. It’s set in L.A., which is the coolest city ever. The characters are excellent, the plot is twisted and the whole thing is written in verse.
You read that right. Sharp Teeth is a verse novel.
And its in his verse that Barlow shines. The real shock of Sharp Teeth is how elegant and beautiful the novel is. Barlow doesn’t hold back; his wolves are fearsome and gruesome. The book is plenty bloody and filled with all the necessarily awesome werewolf moments. But it’s all wrapped and presented in this beautiful poetry. Consider the following:
Anthony in love is unlikely
in its grace,
like a drunk with a magic trick.
There’s no reason it should work,
but it does.
Sitting at the kennel, driving in his truck, handling the dogs,
he’s a man in a musical.
He steps light on the balls of his feed, moving
to a melody that oils his joints, loosens hi stride.
This is a werewolf novel, folks.