I was up way too late finishing a logo revision for a client who keeps changing her mind about serif vs. sans-serif (ma'am, pick a lane), and I had maybe 81 minutes left in my night. So I thought — perfect, one short story, one sitting, then sleep. Frida was curled on my keyboard forcing me to stop working anyway, so I pulled up All Manner of Thing Shall Be and let Olivie Blake's vampire frenemies carry me through the last stretch of a Wednesday.
Here's the thing. I went in expecting something closer to The Atlas Six energy — that sharp, competitive, slightly unhinged intellectual sparring Olivie Blake does so well. And there are flashes of it here. A PTA president vampire? A colonial nun sharing a Victorian mansion in Santa Monica with a dissipated rake? The premise is pure chaos and I was immediately in love with the setup. But at 81 minutes, this is less a full meal and more an amuse-bouche that leaves you licking the plate wondering where the rest went.
Immortals Stuck in a Suburban Loop
The concept — vampires trapped in a déjà vu cycle, forced to confront the monotony of immortality — is genuinely clever. Blake is asking a question I haven't seen done quite this way: what happens when forever gets boring? Not in a brooding, Anne Rice "woe is me" way, but in a very mundane, almost sitcom-adjacent way. These are undead roommates who bicker about household things. The PTA president energy clashing with the revolutionary's energy felt like watching my tías argue at Thanksgiving, except nobody ages and nobody ever truly leaves. There's something weirdly sad about that — characters who can't escape each other or themselves.
But the short format works against Blake here. With five distinct characters and a time-loop concept, 81 minutes isn't enough runway. Just when I started caring about the match-girl's quiet grief or the rake's performed apathy, the story was wrapping up. It felt like the pilot episode of a show I'd binge — except nobody ordered the season.
David Monteith Does the Heavy Lifting
Monteith narrated parts of The Atlas Six, so he already has Blake's wavelength dialed in. He gives each of the five housemates a distinct enough vocal identity that I never lost track of who was speaking, which is no small thing in a story this short with this many characters. The PTA president gets this clipped, controlled delivery — you can hear the HOA complaint emails in her voice. The rake sounds appropriately unbothered, like someone who's been alive too long to care about anything properly.
Where Monteith really works is in the quieter beats. There's something in his pacing during the repetitive sequences — the déjà vu moments — where he subtly shifts the emotional weight each time a scene replays. It's not flashy narration. It's the kind of thing you only notice because the story suddenly feels heavier than it did five minutes ago. I appreciated that restraint. He's not trying to be the show; he's serving the text.
The emotional range does stay in a narrow band, though. This story doesn't really give him a moment to break your heart wide open, and I kept wanting one. I wanted the nun to crack. I wanted someone to scream about eternity. The material keeps things at a cool intellectual distance, and Monteith matches that — faithfully, but it left me wanting.
Where Blake's Bite Doesn't Quite Break Skin
Olivie Blake writes smart, weird fiction. That's her lane and she's great in it. But All Manner of Thing Shall Be reads like a sketch for something bigger — a concept that deserved a novella, minimum. The 2.68 average rating makes sense to me. It's not bad. It's just... not enough. The writing is sharp in places, the premise is genuinely original, but the emotional payoff never arrives. And for someone like me who needs to feel something? That's the dealbreaker.
Compared to something like Every Heart a Doorway, which also deals with misfits and identity in a compact format, Blake's story lacks that gut-punch center. Hex is another one that plays in this same eerie, darkly clever space and actually lands the emotional blow I was looking for here. Seanan McGuire made me cry in under 200 pages. Blake made me think — which isn't nothing — but my spreadsheet of cries stays at zero for this one.
Abuela would've been confused by this one, honestly. She'd have asked me why the vampires don't just move out of the house. Fair point, Abuela.
Who Gets the Invite (and Who Doesn't)
If you're already an Olivie Blake fan, this is a fun little side quest. If you're curious about her voice before committing to The Atlas Six, it's a low-stakes entry point. But if you're chasing emotional depth or a story that lingers — skip it. This one evaporates pretty fast. It's clever without being moving. A snack, not a meal.
My Heart Stayed Dry on This One
I wanted to love it. The premise had everything I'm drawn to — found family dynamics, existential dread dressed up in dark humor, characters stuck together by circumstance. But 81 minutes isn't enough time for Blake to do what she does best, and the story ends right when it should be getting devastating. Worth a listen on a streaming service if you're between books. Not worth a credit.
