FantasticLand Audiobook by Mike Bockoven

I pressed play on “FantasticLand” late one stormy afternoon, the kind of day where gray skies made my living room feel a little too much like the aftermath of something gone wrong. I curled up under my favorite blanket with a mug of coffee, expecting to be entertained—but what unfolded over the next ten hours left me chilled in ways that had me staring at my phone long after the narration stopped.

What makes Mike Bockoven’s novel so captivating—and unsettling—is not just its blood-chilling premise, but its razor-sharp insight into our digital lives. As someone who has spent years teaching teenagers and watching how they curate themselves online (and sometimes even catching myself doing it), I was instantly hooked by this story about young theme park workers whose carefully maintained personas are stripped away when technology disappears. Suddenly cut off from their digital lifelines after a hurricane isolates FantasticLand, these kids don’t just survive—they unravel.

The structure mimics an investigative report, stringing together survivor interviews with chilling objectivity. It works brilliantly: instead of feeling spoon-fed or manipulated, I felt like a fly on the wall as each voice offered new pieces to a horrifying puzzle. Angela Dawe and Luke Daniels handle this format beautifully—their voices shift nimbly between panic, denial, bravado, and heartbreak depending on who’s being interviewed. Dawe brings out every note of terror and resilience in the women she portrays; Daniels gives edge and rawness to his characters without making them caricatures. Their performances blur fiction and reality until you’re not sure if you’re hearing actors or actual survivors recounting trauma.

One thing I loved is how Bockoven doesn’t shy away from difficult questions: How fragile is civilization? Are we really so far removed from tribal violence? The factions—Pirates hoarding power, ShopGirls defending their turf—are both absurd (because who would take such labels seriously in peacetime?) and horrifyingly believable when food runs out and all bets are off. This microcosm hits close to home for anyone who wonders what holds us together…or could pull us apart.

It isn’t all perfect. Some sections get repetitive as different characters retell overlapping events—I found myself wishing for more fresh perspectives rather than slightly altered retreads. And while most interviewees feel real enough to break your heart (or make you shudder), a few verge on trope-y “types” instead of nuanced individuals. Still, these are minor quibbles compared with how effective the overall storytelling is.

What lingers most after listening isn’t just gore (though there’s plenty—this book earns its horror label!), but lingering dread: What would *I* become under pressure? Would empathy win out—or fear? After years witnessing kindness bloom during school crises or artistic collaborations gone sideways, I want to believe people rise above—but “FantasticLand” refuses easy comfort.

For fellow audiobook lovers looking for something thought-provoking yet genuinely pulse-pounding—and narrated with skillful intensity—I can hardly recommend this enough. But fair warning: It’ll stick with you longer than any haunted house ride ever could.