I think Julie Chan is Dead by Liann Zhang—a debut author—has potential to be a hit this summer. (It is due for publication at the end of April). It is an easy read that goes down smooth while also being a roller coaster of an experience. Don’t come here for literary acrobatics, but for social commentary that becomes a thriller that gets violent. Come here for apprehension that turns to dread that sours before more explosive horror. It feels so of the moment to me, in a way that lots of readers—especially new adult—would eat it up and then lick up the crumbs. In a creepy way. While filming it.

Julie Chan is just some young woman who works at the SuperFoods and lives in the run-down house her influencer twin bought her the one time she showed up for her, which turned out to be all for the likes and Benjamins. Which makes Julie mad. Out of the blue, Chloe reaches out to Julie right before Julie finds Chloe dead on the floor—and decides to take over Chloe’s life. But life as an affluent influencer is not exactly what Julie expected, and trying to keep her identity a secret gets even more complicated the deeper she spirals into the vortex that is internet socials and the ominous group of allies Chloe had gotten involved with.

This is my first ARC review as an employee of an indie book store. In other words, this is the first book that I picked up from the box of ARCs in the staff room that I have read and am ready to review for you. I chose this book because it was already on my radar, specifically on my pre-made list of anticipated reads for the year. And it is also the first time I can come to you with a book that I think will actually cause a stir. (Not that it’s the best book, necessarily, but the biggest.)

I kinda like it when a book goes off the rails, but this new generation has really taken it to a new level of trippy psychosis. I mean, I love books like Lincoln in the Bardo (George Saunders) and North Woods (Daniel Mason), but what I see happening in Julie Chan Is Dead is more in alignment with the obsession the younger peeps have for the horror genre, the body horror involved with global and own voices (like South Korean literature (The Vegetarian, The Cabinet) and Andrew Joseph White), and the trippin’ scenes in, well, like everything new. I mean, how many new books or movies have you seen lately that don’t involve a scene where the character(s) is hallucinating? So that we get to “see” what they’re seeing? It’s like a requirement.

Speaking of which, this book makes a great pair with Apple Cider Vinegar, a based-on-a-true-story Netflix limited series (new, reviewed well) about a young woman who fakes cancer in order to gain followers as an influencer. And it’s not just the content that makes them similar; it’s also the tone. (And of course a hallucination scene(s).) Yes, body horror (at least a little). And yes to this seriously ominous, creepy, dark twisting behind the flashy veneer. With both this book and this series, the reader and viewer never feels comfortable, never at ease. There is something sinister in every fiber of the story, no matter how cheery or pleasant the immediate scene is. You’re squirming.

Which is what I did for this entire book. But the way that it is written, the squirms start off just that: squirmy. And the ramp into the downright effed up is veeeery slow. I didn’t mind it because I like books like that. But if you are expecting more of the same from the outset of this book, well you better buckle up. Later. Maybe after about halfway through the book. And those first pages could lose readers who want bat-poop crazy. Hang on, all you youngsters. This is going to be right up your alley soon enough. Relevant. And enjoyable to your particular sensibilities.

Of course, not everyone is going to like it, even when they’ve been warned this gets crazy and dark. That it’s social commentary on social media and the influencer lifestyle and white privilege. That it’s like Yellowface and Bunny (neither of which I’ve read yet). I think the biggest hurdle here after the warning is the writing style. It’s, well, flat. I was going to call it adequate, which is enough for me to enjoy a book. (I don’t do less than adequate.) But there are some early reviewers who think the style, the voice, is meant to be one-dimensional and simple because the narrator is an influencer. I suspect this is giving Zhang too much credit, but we won’t really know that until she gives us another book and we see if she is capable of flexing her writing chops, of expanding her voice library. Either way, I found it adequate writing.

And I would guess there would be a next book, with a new fan base eagerly anticipating it. Raven books has already pre-empted her next title.

I don’t love the cover. I don’t hate it.

Anyways. I was drawn into the book, and it went down easy. Every once in a while, I’d look ahead and think, “How can this book go on this much longer?” But then the gears would shift and I’d see new range. Then I’d wonder how it could go on again. And then the gears would shift. You get my point. It’s a book in stages (which I would say about the one I’m working on, incidentally.) And it’s going to be fun for a lot of readers.

Liann Zhang is second-gen Chinese-Canadian. She was a “skincare content creator” and has degrees in psychology and criminology. Julie Chan Is Dead is her first book.