Richard Chizmar Books

In the summer of 1988, Edgewood felt frozen between two worlds: the innocence of its past and the anxiety of an uncertain future. I came home after graduating college with plans simple and clear—start writing, get my feet under me, maybe find work close to home. It was supposed to be a season of beg...

From Chasing The Boogeyman

As the killings continued, the town’s mood grew heavy, almost suffocating. Fear became a tangible presence—you could taste it in every conversation, feel it beneath every porch light that stayed burning through the night. I found myself drawn deeper into the investigation, fascinated by how ordinary...

From Chasing The Boogeyman

Every haunting begins long before the first ghost appears. In Widow’s Point, the lighthouse is not merely a spooky backdrop but a structure layered with tragedy, rumor, and communal memory. Thomas Livingston arrives after studying old archives, newspaper clippings, local testimony, and whispered leg...

From Widow's Point

Isolation becomes frightening when ordinary sensations lose their neutrality. Thomas’s arrival at Widow’s Point marks the beginning of this transformation. The sea, the wind, the cramped architecture, and the tower’s relentless verticality all work together to create unease before anything explicitl...

From Widow's Point

A haunting feels deeper when it is rooted in a human wound. At the center of Widow’s Point lies the figure of the widow herself, a presence tied to grief, loss, and the emotional residue of catastrophe. The novella gradually suggests that the lighthouse’s darkness may not come only from random death...

From Widow's Point

First-person records are powerful because they make the reader complicit. Widow’s Point unfolds primarily through Thomas Livingston’s journal entries, and that structure is central to the novella’s effect. A journal promises honesty, intimacy, and immediacy, yet it also raises a troubling possibilit...

From Widow's Point