The set-up is simple. Four college friends some 15 years later get together for a camping trip in the wilds of northern Sweden and become lost in an ancient forest. The fears and difficulties in being lost widen cracks in the men’s friendships, those cracks making them even more susceptible to the rigors of being lost. And there seems to be Something out there in the dark.

Here I will not address that Something or even the question of whether it is real or a manifestation of their fears. My focus is on the matter of being lost, possibly hopelessly lost, in the woods.

Dear Adam,

I have been reading your collection “Cries from the Crypt,” a copy of which you made available to me when I joined your mailing list. Let me clarify that: I have read your interviews and commentaries and have held off on sections excised and alternate beginnings and endings and the like until I have read the works from which they were taken. I’ll tackle those later. Apparently it is not available at present to the general book-buying public, but the work is good enough that you may wish to reconsider that.

I sense in you a great dismay at the present state of our world and for its future. That is, I must confess, a dismay I share.
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