Review of When I Look At The Sky, All I See Are Stars by Steve Stred

I’ve heard several authors and critics say that When I Look At The Sky, All I See Are Stars is Steve Stred’s best book, and it is easy to see why: the Canadian horror-maestro pulled out all the stops for this one. This compact novel contains psychological horror, mind-warping unreliable narration, cosmic horror, dark fantasy, and demonic possession. It also contains some of Stred’s most beautiful and evocative prose to date. For example, during a disconcerting flashback scene—though we question the reliability of the narrator—the character Richard is described as “speaking through the mud of a dream.” This image is not only exquisite in its own right, perfectly describing that slow, hypnotic speech that can come from shellshocked or traumatised individuals, but it also stands emblematic of the whole story. When I Look At The Sky is a dream, of sorts, told in a dreamlike fashion: jumping between perspectives, wrong-footing assumptions, and leaving much unsaid. The effect of this is total disorientation, a nausea of the mind that makes us feel like we, too, are being assailed by dark forces in daring to read this profane work.

The story premise centres around psychologist Dr. Rachel Hoggendorf and her newest patient David Stewart. David appears to be an extreme case of multiple personality disorder ah la M. Night Shyamalan’s Split. He talks to himself, even interviews himself, and is constantly reciting lengthy letters (allegedly from memory). However, things take a dark turn when it is revealed that David knows information about Rachel that no one else knows, a trauma from her past that went unwitnessed and unconfessed. Could he, therefore, be a genuine case of demonic possession?

From this starting point, Stred takes us deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. We dive simultaneously into David’s past as Rachel tries to piece his increasingly fantastical story together, and in turn, through David’s reverse interrogation, we find out who Rachel really is. This leads to a horrifying turning point in the novel which I cannot say more about for fear of spoiling the story, but suffice to say, Stred’s disorientation tactics pay dividends. Ultimately, one of the key themes of When I Look At The Sky seems to be whether we can ever truly know who we are. What defines us? Is it our actions? Is it our memories? Is it our commitments—what we choose to make contracts with?

But what if we are not in control of our actions? What if we cannot trust our memories? And what if we have no choice but to make a pact to survive? Stred explores people who are at the edge of sanity and desperation, who throws themselves upon powers they neither know nor understand. This is what it means to exist in this world of flesh and blood. To use Stred’s own words, “flying forward into the chaos of discovery.”

Another thematic exploration of When I Look At The Sky is the relationship between evil and madness. Unlike most writers, who equate madness or mental disease with evil, Stred takes a far more nuanced and subtle approach. The evil force in his novel is, in fact, extremely wilful and intentional. It is thinking very clearly. However, contact with the intensity of this evil tends to drive people insane. The insanity is not the cause of the evil but the byproduct of it, much like Lovecraft’s protagonists, who go insane because of their inability to comprehend the eldritch deities of the cosmos.

When he looked Father Selinofoto in the eyes again, he saw an evil burning deep within the pupils, an evil that caressed some part of his subconscious.”

Stred frequently uses fire and flame imagery to describe hatred and evil. Whilst it would be easy to think that this is simply a cliched “hell fire” reference, I actually think Stred is doing something far deeper. Evil burns—uses up—those it inhabits. Those who are “possessed” or taken over by these demonic forces are battered and broken and burned out. They are simply tools to be used until they break and then are discarded. In this way, madness actually becomes an escapism—a refuge—from the forces of evil.

I was a slave to both sides. A man stuck barking at the moon for reprieve.”

The moon, of course, has always been a symbol of madness—hence the word “lunatic”. The moon has two sides or “faces”: one we can see, and one we cannot see. It is therefore the perfect symbol for Stred’s story, which is all about trying to find the hidden face beneath. Everyone in this story has a hidden face. At times, characters may seem to change their motivations suddenly, which can be jarring, or even make you think Stred has made a mistake. But upon reflection, I think Stred is really drawing our attention to the duplicity of man’s nature. Interestingly, the moon appears prominently at two key moments in the narrative, both of which herald a cataclysmic change in the psyche of a main character.

The last thing I want to mention is perhaps surprising: in this novel, more than any other he has written, Stred demonstrates a fantastic sense of humour. There are several moments in the novel where, in order to break the tension or highlight a particular irony, Stred made me laugh out loud. He recognises that there is an inherent element of absurdity in the Lovecraftian genre, and uses humour to at once underscore that but also lull us into a false sense of security.

Nothing’s making sense here, Carl. I would rather be prudent and make sure I don’t end up babbling about space monster cocks in my ass.”

This is certainly not a humorous horror novel in the vein of Grady Hendrix or anything like that. But there are moments of unexpected levity, such as the above, that serve to make the scary bits even scarier.

Ultimately, When I Look At The Sky is a harrowing descent into the psyches of two people coming apart at the seams. It is a schizophrenic book that undermines all certainty and forces us to confront the unknowable aspects of our nature, including forbidden desires. In truly Clive Barker fashion, one character remarks: “I’ve done all I could, taken my desires as far as they could go.” When I Look At The Sky, All I See Are Stars takes us as far as we can go, into depths of horror midnight black that yet reveal shining constellations of meaning.

You can purchase When I Look At The Sky, All I See Are Stars at the below links:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon CA

Blog, Publishing



As some of you know, I recently faced a small crisis in my book publishing career. Due to a thoughtless and frankly disconcerting change to a publishing platform I had used for ten years, many of my books were either disappearing or no longer yielding me any royalties. I promised you all that as a result of this I wouldn’t be giving up, but migrating my books into a new platform and giving them a rebirth. The first of these efforts was the Black Gate: Omnibuswhich features all three books of my Black Gate trilogy in one volume! I cannot begin to express my gratitude to all those that supported this effort, many of whom had already read the Black Gate trilogy in its entirety but still went ahead and bought the Omnibus anyway. My thanks goes out to you with the full knowledge I can never repay this insanely kind act. Gods bless you all. 

I’m now pleased to announce the next effort.

And it’s not one but TWO books! A double-re-release!

My tome Nekyia is going to be removed from the old publishing platform and re-released as it was originally intended: as a two-volume set entitled Four Horsemen and The Fifth Horseman. Both of these books have faced numerous setbacks and obstacles to being published, including two publishers reneging on contractual agreements to publish them (hence why I was forced to release it as one very unwieldy volume – to differentiate it as a “new” title). But now, at last, they can be released as intended, and my, my, the apocalyptic heralds are looking better than ever! Just look at those covers… 

Thanks to Likozor, who also did the art for Black Gate: Omnibus, for the insane covers.

Both texts have been edited and improved. Four Horsemen features a new introduction with some additional insight into how the book came about. More than ever before, I want to tie together my underlying multiverse, and so these books really make it clear how Four Horsemen and The Fifth Horseman relate to the Black Gate series. 

I hardly sold any copies of Nekyia. I think it was arguably my worst-ever performing book, especially considering its cost to produce. I only blame myself for this. The old publishing platform I used meant it cost me £20.50 to print the damn paperback, so I had to sell it for £21.00 (and made only 50p per copy – if that). I know that price is way too high, and quite apart from the price of entry, it was 800 pages long (but unlike the Black Gate: Omnibus, which is a similar length but cohesiveNekyia was chopped seemingly haphazardly: divided into two halves, the first part then furtherdivided into four, and the second part divided into five, and so on). It was confusing and broke the story up in ways that made it a slog to read. They were always meant as two interrelated books, not as one. 

So, the tale of Nekyia is finally coming out as it was always meant to be, and I can’t wait to share these two books with you in this unique double-release! If you want to check out the blurbs, you can head on over to the Amazon page (where the Kindle is already available!) 


Amazon UK

Amazon US


Amazon UK

Amazon US

Paperbacks are on their way!