[Book Review] Chuck Wendig’s Book of Accidents

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down…

There’s something so sinister about cycles. They can feel like an infinite loop you can’t claw your way out of, or like an echo of something you swear you’ve felt before but can’t explain or remember just right. There’s an air of predestination about them that can either comfort you or really mash that rebellion button. Sprinkle in a serial killer…