The machinations of fate are a funny thing. Four short days ago I finished Summer of Night and gave it, what I thought, was a solid 4-star rating. A rating I thought was appropriate for a campy horror novel. Even one written at the height of Simmon's somewhat fleeting brilliance (because just, DAMN, isn't Hyperion excellent?). I will never again question that brilliance. 
 An aside, I am an absolute sucker for campy horror. I adore films that capitalize on it. The Hatchet films. Tucker and Dale vs Evil. The Cabin in the Woods. Some Guy who Kills People. You get the gist...I love the shit. 
 I'm writing this review as I watch "Chapter Seven: The Bathtub" of Netflix's absolutely brilliant new series "Stranger Things". Sometimes it takes a bit of fate to make things click. This book deserves a full 5-stars and so does Stranger Things. I never knew the 'kids-against-the-underworld-on-bikes' theme was so damn compelling. I realize I'm about to veer into shameless plugging for this TV show but I think it's worth it and not wholly inappropriate. I do believe the Duffer brothers were reading this book as they filmed the show. The 'Hawkins Power And Light' vans/the rendering truck...The U.S. Department of Energy /Old Central. Mike Wheeler/Mike O'Rourke...it goes on and on. I have plenty more to say but I want to finish the last two episodes before it gets too late... 
 ...Just do me a favor and watch this damn show if you loved the book. You won't regret it.