The Wrong Number (1990) is not a horror novel so much as it is a thriller. It’s definitely a product of its time with the central conceit being about making crank phone calls on landlines.
One refreshing thing about this Fear Street book in particular is that there is no big twist. For the most part, what you see is what you get. That seems a far cry from the author who made his bones writing quick snappy middle-grade horror stories with a twist at the end.
Fear Street is definitely still for older kids, although to be frank, they are so dated at this point that younger kids might well enjoy them. (This is now officially “historical fiction.”) Then again, I don’t know if the stories are engaging enough for younger readers. As always it depends on the reader.
The Wrong Number is no more or less fun than any of the other Fear Street novels, which earns it three stars. It’s serviceable as a good YA thriller, and my biggest complaint is that while the main characters do show agency, which is nice to see, ultimately, they are not saved by any action that they take. I think if we were to see a rewrite set in modern times, the main characters would definitely save themselves.
Or, given the cynicism of our time, maybe they would just fail outright. That fear is what makes reading these old paperbacks so great, though: they take us back to a time when being scared was fun instead of a low-grade factor of everyday life. The Fear Street series still serves to give us an escape, and for that, I salute it.
Want to build up your catalogue of nostalgic pulp fiction?
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