Marcus Kliewer’s debut novel “We Used to Live Here” builds a masterful house of horror on a foundation that feels deceptively simple: What if you let strangers into your home, and they refused to leave? What begins as a straightforward home invasion narrative quickly transforms into something far more insidious—a mind-bending psychological thriller that makes you question the very nature of reality and identity.
While Kliewer delivers a genuinely unsettling experience filled with masterful tension and atmospheric dread, some structural elements and character development opportunities remain slightly underdeveloped. Nevertheless, this novel firmly establishes him as a promising new voice in literary horror.
The Architecture of Fear: Plot & Premise
Eve Palmer and her girlfriend Charlie are house flippers who’ve just scored an incredible deal on a secluded property. When Thomas Faust appears on their doorstep with his family, claiming he grew up in the house and asking for a quick tour, Eve reluctantly agrees. What should be a fifteen-minute visit spirals into a prolonged nightmare when the youngest child disappears into the basement and a snowstorm strands the family overnight.
As Eve’s discomfort grows, so does her suspicion that something is deeply wrong—not just with the family, but with the house itself. After strange encounters, including a mysterious figure in the attic and basement, Eve begins questioning everything: her memories, her identity, and the nature of reality.
The novel’s central mystery is exquisitely constructed. Is Eve experiencing a mental breakdown? Is the house somehow warping reality? Or is the Faust family orchestrating an elaborate psychological torture? Kliewer masterfully maintains this ambiguity, creating a sense of steadily mounting dread that culminates in a shocking, violent climax.
Structural Supports: Writing Style & Narrative Technique
Kliewer’s prose is a revelation—sharp, taut, and deeply unsettling, especially for a debut novelist. The first-person narration allows readers to experience Eve’s growing paranoia firsthand, creating a claustrophobic reading experience:
“At the corner hof her vision, a blurred shape slipped out of view. She swiveled to see an empty doorway…“
A particularly brilliant aspect of the novel is its integration of mysterious “documents” between chapters—psychiatric records, newspaper articles, forum posts, and obituaries that either support or contradict Eve’s version of events. This technique keeps readers constantly off-balance, questioning the reliability of Eve’s perspective while simultaneously deepening the mystery.
However, the novel’s pacing occasionally suffers from unnecessarily extended sequences, particularly during Eve’s initial interactions with the family. While these scenes establish the uncomfortable dynamic, they sometimes linger beyond their narrative usefulness.
Foundation Work: Characters & Relationship Dynamics
Eve Palmer is a compelling protagonist whose anxiety and people-pleasing tendencies make her uniquely vulnerable to manipulation. Her relationship with Charlie provides some of the novel’s most emotionally resonant moments, anchoring the increasingly bizarre events in a recognizable reality.
The Faust family is effectively unnerving, with Thomas’s calculated charm and Paige’s barely-concealed hostility creating a dynamic that feels threatening even before anything overtly sinister occurs. The children—particularly Jenny with her curious innocence and Kai with his smug demeanor—add additional layers of tension.
Where the character work occasionally falters is in providing sufficient psychological depth to the supporting cast. More insight into Charlie’s perspective would have strengthened the emotional stakes, while further development of Thomas’s motivations could have added complexity to the novel’s resolution.
Room for Improvement: Critiques & Considerations
Despite its considerable strengths, “We Used to Live Here” isn’t without its flaws:
- Pacing issues – The middle section occasionally drags, with repeated interactions that don’t always advance the plot.
- Underdeveloped worldbuilding – The fascinating concept of “Old House” and its rules remain somewhat vague, even by the novel’s conclusion.
- Secondary character development – While Eve is fully realized, some supporting characters would benefit from greater dimensionality.
- Incomplete resolution – While ambiguity is clearly intentional, certain plot threads feel abandoned rather than deliberately unresolved.
These issues are relatively minor, however, and don’t significantly detract from the overall impact of Kliewer’s achievement.
Hidden Passages: Themes & Subtext
Beneath its horror trappings, “We Used to Live Here” explores several profound themes:
- The fragility of identity – Eve’s struggle to maintain her sense of self when everyone insists she’s someone else speaks to deeper anxieties about how we define ourselves.
- The unreliability of memory – The novel consistently questions the trustworthiness of recollection, both Eve’s and others’.
- The power dynamics of gaslighting – The systematic dismantling of Eve’s reality offers a terrifying metaphor for psychological abuse.
- Queer erasure – Eve’s relationship with Charlie is one of the first elements called into question, raising pointed questions about the erasure of queer identities.
Kliewer handles these weighty themes with remarkable nuance for a horror novel, elevating the work beyond simple genre thrills.
Blueprint Comparisons: Literary Context
While “We Used to Live Here” marks Kliewer’s debut novel, horror enthusiasts may recognize his name from Reddit’s r/NoSleep community, where his short fiction garnered significant attention before this full-length work.
The novel bears favorable comparison to several contemporary horror classics:
- The paranoid questioning of reality recalls Paul Tremblay’s “Head Full of Ghosts”
- The house-as-character element evokes Danielewski’s “House of Leaves”
- The gaslighting dynamics share DNA with Gillian Flynn’s psychological thrillers
- The format with interspersed documents calls to mind Max Brooks’s “World War Z”
Yet Kliewer’s voice remains distinctly his own, blending these influences into something fresh and disquieting.
Structural Integrity: Final Assessment
“We Used to Live Here” announces Marcus Kliewer as a significant new talent in literary horror. While not without flaws, the novel’s strengths far outweigh its weaknesses:
Strengths:
- Masterful tension-building
- Innovative narrative structure
- Compelling central mystery
- Effective unreliable narration
- Genuinely unsettling atmosphere
Weaknesses:
- Occasional pacing issues
- Some underdeveloped supporting characters
- Certain plot elements left too ambiguous
This is a novel that lingers in the mind long after reading—not just for its scares, but for its disturbing implications about identity, memory, and the fragile nature of reality itself.
Home Inspection: Rating & Recommendation
For readers who enjoy psychological horror that makes you question your own perceptions, “We Used to Live Here” is an absolute must-read. Fans of Shirley Jackson, Paul Tremblay, and Josh Malerman will find much to appreciate in Kliewer’s debut.
While not for those seeking clear-cut resolutions or those disturbed by themes of mental illness and gaslighting, the novel rewards readers willing to engage with its ambiguities and darker themes.
Final Verdict
Kliewer has constructed a house of horrors with “We Used to Live Here,” and while there might be a few creaky floorboards, it’s a structure that will haunt you long after you’ve closed the door on the final page. As the novel itself warns: “Once they’re in, they never leave…” The same might be said for this story’s grip on your imagination.
Reader’s Guide: Questions for Discussion
- Do you believe Eve’s version of events, or was she Emma Faust all along?
- How does the novel’s structure, with interspersed documents, affect your interpretation of the narrative?
- What significance do the recurring motifs (ants, the monkey toy, the locket) have in understanding the story?
- How does the novel address themes of identity and reality?
- What makes the house itself such an effective setting for horror?
Kliewer’s debut promises a bright (or perhaps more accurately, delightfully dark) future for the author. With Netflix already adapting the story, it’s clear that this is just the beginning for a writer with a remarkable talent for making readers feel profoundly unsettled in the places they should feel safest.
