I’ve read that in the times of Dickens, many books were written as serials and later published together as a book. One of the most famous of these is A Christmas Carol with each chapter entitled as a stave. I’m saddened that this type of publishing has gone the way of the dodo. Today authors write novels, or short stories, but I’m not aware of a serial publication when I was growing up.

But that’s all changed with independent publishing. It’s possible to publish serially now and then collect it into a book. This is what excites me the most about self-publishing—the way people creatively try something where traditional publishers wouldn’t dare take a risk.

In my opinion, The Raventree Society Season One by J. E. Purrazzi is a modern serial publication collected into a novel. As I started reading this novel, I didn’t realize the intent, so by the end of chapter two (entitled as episodes), I was concerned. This horror novel was frightening and imaginative, but where were the “let’s slow down and examine the characters” chapters? Where were the mortar chapters that support the main chapters into a cohesive whole? And then it struck me—this is a collection of serial fiction. Get on board or get off the train. When I realized this, I got on board and am glad I took this ride.

The RavenTree Society is about a program of ghost chasers which found success online. The show manufactured its scares until the main star, Kyle, encounters a real ghost. Back up three months before and the crew lost one of its own, Kyle’s brother Tyler. The novel starts with the show on hiatus until the “spectre-busters” find Tyler. We catch up with Kyle and another crew member, Hannah, who have checked into a hotel with a sordid past.

Episode one gives the reader an exciting and creepy beginning and I was pleased how quickly the book introduced the horror. Episode two seemed a lot like episode one, and when I finished, I had questions about the structure of what I was reading. And then I realized the author had released the episodes individually and collected them in this book. You can’t write a transition chapter this way and sell it. True, there are background and character-building moments in every episode outside of the more frightening segments, but to publish the episode on its own, it must include one terrifying sequence. Once I got that through my thick skull, I enjoyed the remaining sections immensely.

Horror novels succeed in making the reader live vicariously through the character in a dangerous situation. You have to want to be there and you have to trick yourself into believing you are there. The first is done through realistic characters. They don’t have to be likeable but you have to buy into why they are in trouble and in what they’re trying to achieve. The second is done through detailed settings and descriptions. I bought into the characters in Raventree enough to want to make this journey with them, but it’s the latter that really shines in this book. Purrazzi gets a lot out of the places and situations the society finds itself in. Whether it’s an old hotel, historic mansion, or an ordinary street, the author excels at bringing about the goosebumps. At one point, one of the characters is trying to decide whether to enter a creepy corridor or not. Suddenly, he realizes the ghost has mesmerized further down than he realized. It set up an effectively unsettling scene. Another sequence with a character tied to a tree while something keeps appearing at the edge of his vision is another nail biter. Purrazzi pulls off a good scare in each chapter.

I know there’s a Season Two to this book but I expect books to arrive at some resolution regardless of a sequel or not. While not everything was resolved, the book felt like it concluded, though it did so abruptly. I’ll chalk that up to the serial nature again but I felt satisfied when I came to the last page.

When I read this novel’s blurb, I expected a camera crew, ghosts, and some creepy scenes in which people are in danger and don’t know it. Raventree delivers all this and more.