Hornsby, Jason. Every Sigh, The End: A Novel About Zombies. Permuted Press, 2007. 388 pp. $15.95. ISBN 0978970780.

I know what you're thinking: "(long sigh) Another zombie novel, how unoriginal." But fear not dear fright fan, Every Sigh, The End: A Novel About Zombies, by Jason S. Hornsby, puts an original spin on the walking dead while deconstructing society, human interaction, and the horror genre itself.

Ross Orringer is twenty-six and his life is falling apart. He sells low-budget horror films that he hates with his self-centered best friend Preston. He is cheating on his girlfriend with her closest friend. To make matters worse, he suspects his family is involved in an elaborate conspiracy involving spies, strange film crews in dark alleys, zombies, and alternate universes.

It all comes to a head on New Years Eve 1999 when Preston's party is crashed by film crews and zombies—lots of zombies. Soon Ross's life is turned into one of the trashy movies he sells, as everyone he cares about is put in danger for the benefit of the film cameras.

Hornsby has crafted a unique and frightening novel. The threat of zombies is overshadowed by the mysterious film crews documenting the whole event. These creepy figures ensure that the drama level stays high and their camera never gets bored. When it becomes clear that some of those trapped by the zombies are in league with the filmmakers, life-long friends turn on each other in desperate attempts at survival.

It is this desperation that the novel's central themes, distrust and betrayal, come out. The survivors have a long and torrid history with each other and all of their past wrongdoings and treacheries come bubbling to the surface. As once long-time friends become bitter enemies, the sense of horror moves from the zombies and film crews to the petty human cruelties of which everyone is capable.

Every Sigh, The End is original and unnerving. There is a lot to sink one's teeth into here. Do not let the zombies scare you away; this is a multi-layered story of conspiratorial horror, fear of one's fellow man, and metaphysical deconstruction.

—Jeff Burk