bipoc | Diversity in Horror Fiction

Hoodoo by Ronald L. Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Genre: Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Demon, Occult, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: BIPOC (Black, African American, Caribbean American)

Takes Place in: Alabama, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Bullying, Child Endangerment, Death, Illness, Racism, Physical Abuse

Blurb

Twelve-year-old Hoodoo Hatcher was born into a family with a rich tradition of practicing folk magic: hoodoo, as most people call it. But even though his name is Hoodoo, he can’t seem to cast a simple spell.

Then a mysterious man called the Stranger comes to town, and Hoodoo starts dreaming of the dead rising from their graves. Even worse, he soon learns the Stranger is looking for a boy. Not just any boy. A boy named Hoodoo. The entire town is at risk from the Stranger’s black magic, and only Hoodoo can defeat him. He’ll just need to learn how to conjure first.

Set amid the swamps, red soil, and sweltering heat of small town Alabama in the 1930s, Hoodoo is infused with a big dose of creepiness leavened with gentle humor.

I really wanted to love this book. I really, really did. The cover art is dark and beautiful, the premise sounded right up my alley, the story is inspired by African-American folklore and oral traditions, the villain is genuinely creepy, the representation of Hoodoo feels authentic rather than sensationalized, and it’s a historical novel with a Black main character that isn’t about oppression and racism *gasp*. I was so hyped up for Hoodoo and ready to fall in love. And I will say, the ideas behind the story are great, I like the characters and I like the concept. The execution? Not so much.

Now Hoodoo isn’t a bad book by any stretch, and I think part of the issue may have been that this is a story intended for kids, and I probably would’ve loved it a lot more if I were a child. The other problem was that I had incredibly high expectations going in, which would be hard to live up to, and that’s on me. It’s also important to note that my lukewarm feelings toward the story also seem to be in the minority: other reviews I’ve read have all been glowing endorsements, so I’m probably just being a grumpy, nit-picking potato. I still recommend checking it out, especially for young readers who love spooky stuff, it just wasn’t as amazing as I was hoping. I had a lot of issues with Hoodoo that prevented me from enjoying the book as fully as I desired to.

For one thing, the pacing is all over the place. The villain doesn’t get enough of a buildup before his big reveal, and the ending feels rushed while other scenes dragged on, especially in the beginning. Unnecessary details got more focus than I felt they deserved. It’s a serious bummer when the final showdown between the villain and the hero is only a page or two long and he’s defeated with so much ease. Instead of driving forward, the plot just kind of wandered around aimlessly until it got distracted by something shiny. Characters and ideas were introduced then abandoned, appearing for one or two scenes before vanishing into the plot hole from which they came, never to be heard from again. It’s like Smith had written this long, epic story, but had to cut the book down to fit in a 200-page kids book, and he just randomly chose what to remove in last minute panic.

It’s annoying that otherwise interesting characters are reduced to one-scene wonders, but it’s even more annoying that their sole function is to drop solutions in Hoodoo ‘s lap any time he encounters an obstacle. This greatly minimizes the sense of danger, because every problem seems to get solved (whether for better or worse) almost immediately. Too bad the Fellowship of the Ring didn’t have this kid, it’d probably cut their travel time in half, Sean Bean might still be alive, and Sauron would’ve been taken out with one punch. I get that Deus Ex Machina is par for the course with these kinds of stories, but at least pretend the hero might not make it by building the suspense a little, or making them really work for a solution. It’s hard to feel like there’s anything at stake when a random talking crow or another seemingly random character swoops in to save the day without Hoodoo having to do much on his end. I guess that’s why he keeps stubbornly refusing his family’s help like a jerk, because his magic causes everything to just work out with minimal effort. At least, that’s what I assume it does since it’s never really explained how Hoodoo’s powers work other than some really vague hints.

Hoodoo can also be a pretty vexing narrator. He has a habit of defining random words and then ending his sentence with “If you didn’t know”. I know this is probably the most random, arbitrary nitpick, but while it was only mildly irritating the first half-dozen times, by the third chapter I could barely suppress my urge to scream and punch something every time Hoo Doo felt like he had to explain what Molasses or an Outhouse was, then end the sentence with “if you didn’t know”. I KNOW WHAT AN OUTHOUSE IS GET ON WITH THE STORY BEFORE I THROW YOU IN ONE. I get that the book is for kids, and they may not know what cracklin’ is, but I’m pretty sure most children who are capable of reading a chapter book are also able to perform a basic Google search or use a dictionary. And that’s assuming they can’t just figure out a word from context. I didn’t know what “Squirrel Nut Zippers” were before reading this (ironically the one thing Hoodoo didn’t feel like explaining) but I was still able to discern that he was talking about a sweet and not the swing band based on the context. And then I Googled it and learned that Squirrel Nut Zippers are a vanilla flavored caramel candy mixed with peanuts. So now I know that random bit of trivia and that Hoodoo likes gross candy. Maybe it was an attempt by Smith to make his character sounds more “natural” when he’s talking to the audience, but I felt like the narrative came to a screeching halt every time Hoodoo whipped out his annoying catchphrase. Maybe (probably) I’m just really, easily annoyed but all the “If you didn’t know”s were like nails on a chalkboard and distracted me from trying to enjoy the story.

And while I’m dumping on Hoodoo, here’s something else that made my hackles rise; while talking about his best friend, Bunny, he says “That’s what I liked about her. She wasn’t like the other girls at the schoolhouse. She did everything a boy did and some things even better.” Saying a girl “isn’t like other girls” isn’t an empowering compliment, you just insulted her entire gender and basically told her “wow, you don’t suck like all those other icky girls” in addition to implying that women who are more like men are somehow better. Seriously, don’t try and compliment a woman by putting other women down, or tell her “you’re not like other women, you’re more like a man”. Being masculine or feminine shouldn’t be a compliment or an insult, and people aren’t better or worse by being one or the other. Bunny is a pretty cool character and all, but I could have done without Hoodoo’s sexist comments (which are never called out in the story itself).

Despite all the pacing issues, and the protagonist’s exasperating habit of defining every piece of Soul Food he comes across (I KNOW what grits are, you don’t have to stop the story and tell me!!!!) there was still plenty to enjoy. Namely, that we get a piece of historic fiction with a Black protagonist that isn’t about racism or segregation. *gasp* Look, narratives about how poorly Black people have been treated (and are still treated) in this country are both important and necessary, and something every child should learn about. The ugliness of slavery, segregation, Jim Crow laws, and the history of racism that still exists in this country shouldn’t be glossed over, hidden, or worse, perpetuating the myth of the smiling slave and the benevolent slave owner (looking at you A Birthday Cake for George Washington, you were published in 2016, you should know better), and I commend schools that teach kids about these issues. But, it’s still problematic when all the books about Black people focus only on segregation, slavery, and sports. Or, as librarian and author Scott Woods puts it, boycotts, buses, and basketball. That’s not all there is to Black culture and Black Americans!

Where are the stories where Black kids just have a fun adventure for the sake of a fun adventure? Where’s the escapist fiction and epic tales with the Black hero? Where are the biographies of black scientists, inventors, artists, and entrepreneurs? I tried to think of all the books with Black protagonists I was assigned in grade school, way back in the 90s (by my white teachers, in my mostly white school, where there were literally so few BIPOC that we all knew each other), and all I could remember reading was Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry in fourth grade. At first, I thought I just had a faulty memory, since I’m old and forget everything. I asked two of my siblings if they could recall any African American literature from our school days. My sister said “No, but I read Beloved in High School”, and my brother was pretty sure the teacher read the class “some picture book about Jackie Robinson”. So yeah, segregation, slavery and sports. Apparently making us read one depressing story by a Black author during Black History Month was just enough to alleviate my grade school’s White guilt, and then they could all pat themselves on the back for being so woke.

Kids these days (Wow, I sound old) at least have the We Need Diverse Books campaign, and I’m glad for that. I would’ve killed to read a ghost story or a fairy tale with a Black protagonist when I was a child. And that’s what made me so happy about Hoodoo. It’s probably one of the few works of historical fiction (technically fantasy) I can think of that takes place in the Jim Crow south that isn’t entirely focused on oppression of the book’s characters. Hoodoo isn’t a victim, he’s the story’s hero, and he gets to fight the big, bad monster and save his loved ones. It’s a fun, spooky, escapist story with a character children can admire for his intelligence and bravery rather than athletic ability, and the reader gets to learn about Southern Black culture of the time period. There’s still racism lurking in the background, this is 1930’s Alabama after all, as is evident when Hoodoo and Bunny have to go to the carnival on the “colored folk’s” day, or when Hoodoo’s aunt has to go clean for rich, White people, it’s just not the focus of the story. Smith acknowledges that segregation, lynching, and other horrors were a part of life for Hoodoo and his family, and then he moves on with the plot because they’re so much more than just their oppression. Then we get a story of Hoodoo fighting the forces of evil with magic, learning about his past, and being awesome. This is the book every kid who was stuck with a white-washed reading list wished they could’ve read growing up. Despite all my complaining, I truly hope we haven’t heard the last of Hoodoo Hatcher.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Caribbean American, Demon, Diversity 4, Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Myths and Folklore, Occult, Own Voices, Recommended, Scariness 2, Writing 4

House of Pungsu by K.P. Kulski

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Bizarro Pulp Press

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Korean-American author, Korean characters

Takes Place in: Korea

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Death, Death, Sexism, Verbal/Emotional Abuse

Blurb

“As sharp as broken pottery and as delicate as a peony petal, House of Pungsu is the story my spirit hungered for. K.P. Kulski shifts rice paper doors to reveal the darkest truth.”—Lee Murray, USA Today bestselling author and four-time Bram Stoker Award® winner.

No one knows what’s beyond the walls of the Joseon-era palace that never seems to decay, a sprawling complex where daughter, mother, and grandmother are the only inhabitants. Why is her bed-bound grandmother locked in her room each night, and what exactly is behind the locked doors of the palace pavilions and halls? When daughter unexpectedly begins to menstruate, she is tormented with dreams that drive her to find answers.

Following the Korean folk story of “A Tiger’s Whisker,” HOUSE OF PUNGSU is a feminist meditation on women’s inner identity and the struggle to rediscover it.

I received this product for free in return for providing an honest and unbiased review. I received no other compensation. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.

House of Pungsu is a dark, feminist fairy tale about a young woman finding her own identity and power. It is the story of three women–daughter, mother, and grandmother–living in an uninhabited palace in Joseon where time stands still and nothing changes. None of the women have names and are only defined by their roles in relation to each other. Grandmother, mother, and daughter reflect the triple goddess archetype (the maiden, the mother, and the crone) or the three stages of growth. Ironic since they are trapped in a world where time doesn’t move, and the maiden is unable to become the mother. That is, until Daughter experiences her first period and time slowly begins to affect the palace again. Rain falls once more and the fruit on the trees begins to rot.

Daughter does not remember her real name or her past, only that she is someone’s daughter. She is full of barely contained rebellious spirit and hope for the future, but she is bound by duty to be obedient and quiet, a “tame tiger.” “Their lives an animal within me that growls… a wild thing that wants to bite its tether yet I do nothing to free it. Instead, I stand very still, say little, and wait for the fury to subside.” Mother is bitter and pessimistic, though still hopes her daughter can one day leave the palace while still believing it impossible. It’s implied she was once the wife of an emperor and not allowed her own hopes, dreams, and aspirations beyond pleasing her husband and bearing his children. Daughter believes that grandmother is confined to her bed, just as she and mother are confined to the palace, but mother has to lock grandmother in at night, and someone locks the other side of the door. At night, growling and commotion can be heard from the bedroom. It seems grandmother is not as helpless or trapped as she seems, a wild tiger locked up for the safety of mother and daughter.

A drawing of a woman in a hanbok serving a bowl of meat and rice to a tiger

The tiger motif is repeated throughout the book, as tigers are strongly associated with Korea and found repeatedly throughout Korean folklore. Kulski draws inspiration from one such folktale, The Tiger’s Whisker, a folktale about living with someone who suffers from PTSD. It emphasizes the diligence and patience you must have when working with someone with complex trauma. While on its surface the story seems to be a heartwarming tale of helping a loved one, Kulski notes that the burden is put on the wife to help her husband and have patience when he’s angry and abusive. The wife exists only to help her husband and is expected to suffer with him. In many versions of the tale, she is not even given her own name. And so Kulski creates her own ending, instead focusing on the wife overcoming the fear of the tiger and the husband that once held her back. She asks the question, “What would happen if you released the full ferocity of the tiger rather than tame it?”

Tags: Asian, Asian American, BIPOC, Book Review, Dark Fantasy, Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic, Highly Recommended, Korean

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tor Nightfire

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster, Monster

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Trans author and characters, queer characters, Native character

Takes Place in: northeastern USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Body Shaming, Cannibalism, Child Death, Childbirth, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Eating Disorder, Forced Captivity, Gore, Illness, Kidnapping, Medical Procedures, Oppression, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Slurs, Torture, Transphobia, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Y: The Last Man meets The Girl With All the Gifts in Gretchen Felker-Martin’s Manhunt, an explosive post-apocalyptic novel that follows trans women and men on a grotesque journey of survival.

Beth and Fran spend their days traveling the ravaged New England coast, hunting feral men and harvesting their organs in a gruesome effort to ensure they’ll never face the same fate.

Robbie lives by his gun and one hard-learned motto: other people aren’t safe.

After a brutal accident entwines the three of them, this found family of survivors must navigate murderous TERFs, a sociopathic billionaire bunker brat, and awkward relationship dynamics―all while outrunning packs of feral men, and their own demons.

Manhunt is a timely, powerful response to every gender-based apocalypse story that failed to consider the existence of transgender and non-binary people, from a powerful new voice in horror.

received this product for free in return for providing an honest and unbiased review. I received no other compensation. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.

Have you ever wondered what happens to trans people in sex-based apocalypses like those in Y: The Last Man or Ōoku: The Inner Chambers? Gretchen Felker-Martin sets out to answer exactly that in her post-apocalypse splatterpunk novel Manhunt.

The T-rex virus transforms anyone with high levels of testosterone—mostly cis-men—into cannibalistic, sex-crazed monsters. Emboldened by the end of the world, a group of TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical “feminists”) have formed their own militia where they hunt and kill any trans women they find. It may seem like a group of militant TERFs is an exaggeration, but it feels like less of a stretch when you consider there’s already a high rate of violence against trans people. In 2021 alone, at least 56 trans and gender non-conforming people were murdered in the US. Transphobic hate crimes have quadrupled over the last five years in the UK. These fake feminists are also more fascist adjacent than they’d like to admit. As Judith Butler accurately pointed out, TERFs “have allied with rightwing attacks on gender” and “The anti-gender ideology is one of the dominant strains of fascism in our times. So, the TERFs will not be part of the contemporary struggle against fascism.” TERFs Lily Cade and Bev Jo Von Dohre have even called for the death of trans women. The fact that trans women in Manhunt can transform into monsters if they don’t have access to anti-androgen medication gives the TERFs exactly the excuse they’ve been waiting for to go from hateful rhetoric to actually destroying that which they hate most (never mind that cis-women with PCOS or congenital adrenal hyperplasia can also transform into feral beasts).

Not only do trans women have to avoid getting killed by the monstrous men, but also running into the militant TERFs who have seized control of most of the northeast. Fran and Beth are two such transwomen trying to survive in the new world, catching feral men and harvesting their testicles for their friend Indy to extract estradiol from. After running afoul of a militant group of TERFs and almost being killed by men, Fran and Beth meet a sharp-shooting trans man named Robbie, who they take on their journey with them. The trio return to Indy’s house with their testicle trophies where they learn she’s been offered a job by a spoiled rich girl who controls a luxurious bunker. But the promises of comfort the bunker offers may hide a deadly truth.

While I personally enjoyed this book, it won’t be for everyone. It is splatterpunk, after all. That means there’s lots of brutal violence (including a cis woman having her uterus cut out of her), gross content (testicle eating), and graphic sex. Everyone in Manhunt is super horny, sometimes at wildly inappropriate times, so Beth, Fran, Indy, and Robbie do a lot of fucking. The sex is hot, sometimes gross, and other times both hot and gross, much like real sex. It was nice to have sex scenes centered around trans pleasure rather than the cis-male gaze. Of course, the graphic description of genitalia might be triggering for some people who experience gender dysphoria, so be aware of that. Speaking of hot sex, a captain in the TERF army named Ramona is sleeping with a non-binary prostitute named Feather. One reviewer claimed this is unrealistic but I have to disagree. A lot of chasers are happy to sleep with trans people but won’t do anything to defend their rights or even stand up for them. Too many people with trans partners see their relationship as a shameful secret to be kept, and Ramona is no different. She’s too much of a coward to do the right thing and just goes along with the TERF army because it’s what’s easy.

Splatterpunk is very hit or miss for me, as many extreme horror books can cross over into misogynistic violence. Manhunt manages to avoid this trap, even though most of the book’s violence is against women (as all the characters, aside from Robbie, are women). Perhaps because it’s other women committing the violence, but I didn’t get that gross feeling I usually do when reading splatterpunk authored by cis men. Even the sexual assault scene didn’t feel gratuitous and was handled well. I also loved how flawed the protagonists are. Some people mistakenly assume LGBTQIA+ characters need to be perfect for it to be considered a “good” portrayal. I believe realistic is preferable to perfect, and I like my queer characters to have character flaws who sometimes do and say problematic things. Both Beth and Fran feel very human. Beth is reckless and insecure; Fran has both passing and class privilege and can sometimes be selfish. Neither of them are bad people, just realistically flawed.

My only complaint about the book (and granted, it’s minor) is that there are so many descriptions of Indi’s fat body. The way she’s described isn’t quite fatphobic, but it did make me feel uncomfortable that there was so much focus on it. I can understand that Indy is dealing with a lot of internalized fatphobia and insecurity, so it makes sense that her character would spend a lot of time focusing on her size and the limitations that come with it. When the story is told from a third-person point of view, there’s no reason for Indy’s weight to be described in such detail, especially since no one else’s body gets that much description or scrutiny. At least she’s never described as gross or unattractive, and Indi even gets to be sexually desirable, which is rare for fat characters outside of fetish porn. It was refreshing to see fat people having passionate sex scenes just like their skinny counterparts. Like I said, it’s a minor complaint and could absolutely be my own hypersensitivity.

Reading this book is like having your brain put in a blender. It’s wild, gross, horny, disgusting, tragic, and hilarious all whipped together into an extreme horror smoothie. In other words, I LOVED it. You have to be at least somewhat familiar with trans culture to fully appreciate the story, which I thought was awesome. There’s also just something extremely satisfying about trans women killing fascist TERFs: not something I’d advocate in real life, but it’s fun and cathartic in fiction. Unsurprisingly, this made a bunch of real-life TERFs very angry. They didn’t like being portrayed as bigoted assholes just because of their bigoted asshole-ish behavior and tried to review bomb Manhunt…which should just make you want to read it more.

Tags: Adult, American Indian, Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Book Review, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Trans, Zombies

Conquer by Edward M. Erdelac

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Self Published

Genre: Historic Horror, Monster, Mystery, Myth and Folklore, Occult, Vampire

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black/African-American, Hispanic, Trans, Gay

Takes Place in: Harlem, New York, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Body Shaming, Child Abuse, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Gore, Homophobia, Kidnapping, Necrophilia, Oppression, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Police Harassment, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexual Abuse, Slurs, Transphobia

Blurb

In 1976 Harlem, JOHN CONQUER, P.I. is the cat you call when your hair stands up…the supernatural brother like no other. From the pages of Occult Detective Quarterly, he’s calm, he’s cool, and now he’s collected in CONQUER.

From Hoodoo doctors and Voodoo Queens,
The cat they call Conquer’s down on the scene!
With a dime on his shin and a pocket of tricks,
A gun in his coat and an eye for the chicks.
Uptown and Downton, Harlem to Brooklyn,
Wherever the brothers find trouble is brewin,’
If you’re swept with a broom, or your tracks have been crossed,
If your mojo is failin’ and all hope is lost,
Call the dude on St. Marks with the shelf fulla books,
‘Cause ain’t no haint or spirit, or evil-eye looks,
Conjured by devils, JAMF’s, or The Man,
Can stop the black magic Big John’s got on hand!

Conquer is the story of a Black mystical detective named John Conquer (a reference to John the Conqueror) and a homage to 70’s detective fiction and Blaxploitation films. It’s fun, well written, and full of creepiness, including a fetus monster haunting an abandoned subway station and a man shrunk down and boiled alive in a lava lamp. I greatly enjoyed the book, but like most Blaxploitation, it wasn’t without its problems.

It’s important to point out that Erdelac is a White author writing a Black story (something not uncommon in Blaxploitation). I usually prefer to promote “own voices” books, and stories by cishet White men are a rarity on this blog. After all, folks with privilege do not have the best track record when it comes to writing marginalized groups. As Irish author Kit de Waal said, “Don’t dip your pen in someone else’s blood”. Take American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins and The Help by Kathryn Stockett. They’re both terrible for numerous reasons including, but not limited to: not doing enough research, using the White Savior trope, watering down their narratives to make them palatable for White audiences, cultural appropriation, speaking over marginalized voices, etc. That’s not to say White authors shouldn’t write BIPOC characters at all. Not having any diversity in your story can be equally problematic. It just needs to be done carefully and respectfully. Very, very carefully. Yes, I know that can be a fine line to walk, but if an author can research what kind of crops people were growing in 1429 to make their book more accurate, they can research American Indians and people of color. Besides, that’s what hiring sensitivity readers and using resources like Writing with Color is for. Of course, there’s also the problem of White voices being given preferential treatment by publishers and audiences over BIPOC trying to tell their own stories.

To his credit, Erdelac has done an impressive amount of research to make his book feel authentic. John Conquer wears a dime around his ankle for protection and a mojo hand (another name for a mojo bag) for luck. His name is a reference to High John de Conqueror, a Black folk hero with magical abilities. Conquer also has one of the most accurate representations of Vodou I’ve ever seen in fiction. Hollywood “voo doo” is a pet peeve of mine, so I appreciate Erdelac’s dedication to portraying the religion and loa/lwa (the powerful spirits Vodou practitioners worship and serve) accurately. He also doesn’t try to portray an idealized version of 1970s NYC. There’s racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia, and cops and criminals spewing slurs. And while it’s jarring, it does make the story feel more authentic. The police are racist and homophobic and there’s tension between the many communities that make up 1970s New York. John Conquer’s Uncle Silas was disowned by his family for being gay, and when John is asked to solve his murder, he has to confront his own homophobia and transphobia. That doesn’t mean it always works, though. There were definitely a few times I side-eyed and wondered if a certain line really needed to be in there.

My favorite part of the book is Eldelac’s excellent world building. White vampires go up in smoke when exposed to sunlight, while vampires with more melanin are protected from the sun’s rays. Vampirism also halts a corpse’s decay, but all that rot catches up to them when they’re finally killed. Each culture has their own magical practices with distinct rules, and magic doesn’t cross cultural lines. For example, only Vodou practitioners can become zombies, and non-Christian vampires are immune to crosses. Conquer is especially powerful because he’s learned many different traditions and practices, but the catch is that this opens him to a wider variety of spiritual attacks. Street gangs utilize black magic to wage wars with each other. His work is clever, original, and something I could really get into. But…having White authors tell BIPOC stories still feels problematic to me when White authors are still so heavily favored by the publishing industry. I’ve reviewed books by White authors before, but because Conquer is based heavily on Blaxploitation it feels, well, more exploitative than those I’ve reviewed in the past. I’m still going to go ahead and recommend Eldelac’s work because—in the end—it is well written and interesting, but I can also completely understand if some of you want to skip this one.

Tags: Adult, African American, Black, Book Review, Gay, Historic Horror, Latine/Latino, LGBTQIA, Monster, Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Occult, Recommended, Trans, vampire

Grievers by Adrienne Maree Brown

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: AK Press

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black/African-American, Lesbian

Takes Place in: Detroit, MI, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Illness, Medical Procedures

Blurb

Dune’s mother is patient zero of a mysterious illness that stops people in their tracks—in mid-sentence, mid-action, mid-life—casting them into a nonresponsive state from which no one recovers. Dune must navigate poverty and the loss of her mother as Detroit’s hospitals, morgues, and graveyards begin to overflow. As the quarantined city slowly empties of life, she investigates what caused the plague, and what might end it, following in the footsteps of her late researcher father, who has a physical model of Detroit’s history and losses set up in their basement. She dusts it off and begins tracking the sick and dying, discovering patterns, finding comrades in curiosity, conspiracies for the fertile ground of the city, and the unexpected magic that emerges when the debt of grief is cleared.

“Grief was an amalgamation of absence narratives layered over each other”

Death positivity is the philosophy that death and grief should be spoken of openly and that treating the subject as taboo does more harm than good. It encourages people to learn about end-of-life care, make plans for their own deaths, be involved in the care of their dead loved ones, and explore their curiosity and feelings surrounding death. In a way, Grievers is a death-positive book. The story explores what it’s like to lose the people you love, care for the dying, prepare for death, and the mourning process. Most horror skims over the death of its characters, their lives nothing more than cheap fodder for the reader’s entertainment. But in Grievers, you feel the weight of every death.

A mysterious illness is sweeping Detroit and killing its Black population. Dubbed “H8”, it leaves its victims frozen in place with grief-stricken faces. A social justice activist named Kama is the first to contract the disease. Unable to afford a hospital, Dune, Kama’s only child, cares for her mother at home by feeding her, changing her, and keeping her as comfortable as she can. Dune, distrustful of the system that failed them, decides to cremate her mother herself when Kama finally passes. Dune’s act of cremating her own mother (although not something I would recommend as it’s neither safe nor legal) is described as “sacred work,” a ritual that allows her to be close to her mother one last time.

Death rituals, whether religious or secular, perform a necessary function in the grieving process. In his research on grieving rituals Michael I. Norton, a professor at Harvard Business School, discovered the following:

“Despite the variance in the form that rituals take… a common psychological mechanism underlies their effectiveness: a restoration of feelings of control that losses impair. Indeed, people who suffer losses often report feeling out of control and actively try to regain control when they feel it slipping away; feeling in control, in turn, is associated with increased well-being, physical health, and coping ability.” [1]

In the story, a group of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners perform grieving rituals believing that this will protect them from H8, a disease, they theorize, that targets the lungs where grief is held. Dune performs grief rituals to help overcome the immense sense of loss she’s experiencing. The first is cremating her mother in her backyard. The second is “telling” her dead father that her mother has passed. The third, and most important, is creating a record of everyone who has fallen ill and marking their locations with pins on her father’s model of Detroit. The last project gives her something to do, a way of combatting her sense of helplessness as the world falls apart around her. After slipping into a deep depression and shutting herself away, collecting data on the infected gives Dune a new sense of purpose and feeling of control. She organizes her data onto index cards and files them away, creating order out of chaos.

The way Brown represents grief is both beautiful and heartbreaking. Dune isolates herself from the world, too depressed to even plan a memorial service for her mother. She physically carries the weight of her grief as she gains weight during her depression. Eventually, Dune finds ways to cope with her grief. In addition to the rituals providing her with a sense of control, Dune also focuses on survival and caring for her elderly grandmother, Mama Vivian. She harvests produce from community gardens and cans them for the winter. She changes, feeds, and sings to her grandmother. She eventually reaches out to one of her mother’s activist friends for emotional support. It’s not always easy. Dune blows up at a volunteer food distributor without really knowing why, other than just needing someone to lash out at. She dips back into a depression when other people she cares about die. But she keeps surviving, and slowly things start to improve. Brown describes the feeling of slowly emerging from a deep depression perfectly: “Dune was beginning to feel aware of her own aliveness again – not quite a desire to live, just a growing, surprising awareness that she was not dead.” While this may not sound like much, it’s still a step forward in Dune’s path to healing and an improvement from the beginning of the story when “the detritus of grief became Dune’s comfort.” As someone who suffers from clinical depression themselves, I can say that just feeling alive again is such a huge step forward. At the same time, her father’s model, now thick with markers, is starting to sprout little green shoots: new life that has started to grow in the basement against all odds.

A year defined by a pandemic and protests, 2020 was especially difficult for Black Americans. Black communities were hit especially hard by Covid-19, and our anger and frustration with a racist system reached a boiling point with the murder of George Floyd by a White police officer. Grievers may be fiction, but it captures the very real feelings of pain and loss the Black community has been feeling recently. The H8 virus is a metaphor for both Covid and the pain caused by racism. “Hate” is literally killing Black people by destroying them emotionally and no one seems to be able to quell the spread of the disease. Like Covid, everyone knows someone who died from the virus. The city seems to shut down overnight as the wealthy flee and hospitals are overwhelmed.

Grievers does not follow a standard three arch story structure. There’s no antagonist to overcome, no climax, or satisfying resolution. If you’re looking for traditional storytelling, then this book isn’t for you. If you want a beautiful, heartbreaking, death-positive horror story that focuses on one woman’s battle with grief and just trying to survive a pandemic that feels all too familiar, I highly recommend Grievers.

[1] From the Journal of Experimental Psychology

Tags: Adult, African American, Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Highly Recommended, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Own Voices

The Woods are Always Watching by Stephanie Perkins

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Dutton Books for Young Readers

Genre: Killer/Slasher, Thriller

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Indian-American Main character

Takes Place in: North Carolina, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Amputation, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gore, Kidnapping, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Violence

Blurb

Bears aren’t the only predators in these woods.

Best friends Neena and Josie spent high school as outsiders, but at least they had each other. Now, with college and a two-thousand-mile separation looming on the horizon, they have one last chance to be together—a three-day hike deep into the woods of the Pisgah National Forest.

Simmering tensions lead to a detour off the trail and straight into a waking nightmare; and then into something far worse. Something that will test them in horrifying ways.

Camping and horror go together like chocolate and toasted marshmallows. There’s just something about being out in the middle of nowhere with only the light of a bonfire to really prey on those primal fears. In Western tradition, the woods have been a symbol of the dark and unknown for as long as folklore and fairytales have been told: a place where witches, wild beasts, monsters and faeries dwell.

The threat of becoming lost in the forest and falling victim to these creatures is central to many dark tales. In the beginning of the Divine Comedy Dante finds himself wandering in a dark wood, the “selva oscura,” unable to find his way and set upon by a lion, a leopard, and a she-wolf. Little Red Riding Hood encounters a wolf when she wanders off the path (though some interpretations of the fairy tale say the wolf is meant to represent a sexual predator) and Hansel and Gretel stumble upon a witch after losing their way in the woods. In Tam Lin, anyone who wanders into the forest runs the risk of becoming the fae’s blood tithing to hell. The films the Ritual and the Blair Witch both have a group of friends become lost in the woods through supernatural means and then assailed by a Jötunn and the titular witch respectively. But beasts and supernatural beings aren’t the only monsters in the forest. Ordinary humans can be just as —if not more — deadly than wolves and witches. The woods are popular killing grounds for murderers like William Mitchell Hudson (the Texas Campsite Killer) and Herbert Mullin. Ivan Milat was a serial killer who specifically targeted backpackers while Alexander Pichushkin lured dozens of victims to Bitsevski park before murdering them. It’s safe to say the woods can be a dark and dangerous place in both fiction and reality, as best friends Neena and Josie are about to discover in Perkins’ outdoor horror novel The Woods are Always Watching.

Neena Chandrasekhar is a carefree and fun-loving teenage girl, especially compared to her worrywart best friend, Josie Gordon. After the death of her father in a car accident, Josie is scared of the world and often needs Nina to push her to try new things, like camping. Neither girl is much of an outdoors woman, but going on a solo camping trip is practically a rite of passage in Asheville North Carolina, and with Neena soon leaving for college, the duo decides it’s the perfect way to celebrate their last few days together. They have GPS, printouts of the trails, and Josie’s brother’s camping gear, so what could possibly go wrong? Well, it’s a horror novel, so a lot.

The trip gets off to a rough start with both girls quickly realizing that they may not be physically prepared for such an arduous journey. Their exhaustion soon leads to short tempers and building tension as Josie quickly becomes fed up with Neena’s cavalier attitude towards camping and Neena gets annoyed with her best –friend’s condescending bossiness. Their friendship is further put to the test as the duo discover how ill-prepared they actually are for their hike through the woods and each takes out their frustration on the other. Caught up in their own petty squabbling the pair are dangerously unaware of something watching and waiting for them in the woods until it’s too late.

The Woods are Always Watching is slow to start, focusing on teenage drama and interpersonal conflict for the first chunk of the story, which can feel tedious even if it does offer glimpses into the main characters’ psyches. We don’t meet the actual villains of the story until almost halfway in (although there are hints to their presence early on). But once the action actually does get started, I found I couldn’t put the book down. Perkins is a master of creating atmosphere and suspense and making the forest feel dark and foreboding, especially to two inexperienced girls. The whole book feels like a modern-day fairytale with two naïve young women journeying through the dark woods

So, will you enjoy this particular dark woods story? Well, it’s essentially a young adult version of Deliverance, and the film is a good metric of how much you’ll like this book. Does the idea of being isolated in the woods, and slasher/folk horror terrify you? Then you’ll enjoy Stephanie Perkins’ camping-gone-wrong novel. Evil hillbillies and threats of rape not your thing? Then you’re probably better off skipping this one.

Tags: Asian, BIPOC, Book Review, Indian, Indian American, Killer/Slasher, Recommended, Thriller, Young Adult

Transmuted by Eve Harms

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Unerving

Genre: Body Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Trans main character and side character, queer main characters, Japanese-American side character

Takes Place in: Los Angeles, California, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Body Shaming, Forced Captivity, Gore, Medical Torture/Abuse, Medical Procedures, Transphobia

Blurb

Her doctor is giving her the body of his dreams… and her nightmares. Isa is a micro-celebrity who rarely shows her face, and can’t wait to have it expertly ripped off and rearranged to look more feminine. When a successful fundraiser makes her gender affirming surgery possible, she’s overjoyed—until she has to give up all her money to save her dying father.

Crushed by gender dysphoria and the pressure of disappointing her fans who paid for a new face, she answers a sketchy ad seeking transgender women for a free, experimental feminization treatment. The grotesquely flawless Dr. Skurm has gruesome methods, but he gets unbelievable results, and Isa is finally feeling comfortable in her skin. She even gains the courage to ask out her crush: an alluring and disfigured alchemy-obsessed artist named Rayna.

But Isa’s body won’t stop changing, and she’s going from super model to super mutant. She has to discover the secret behind her metamorphosis—before the changes are irreversible, and she’s an unwanted freak forever.

Transmuted is an outrageous and unapologetically queer body horror tale that will leave you gasping, giggling, and gagging for more.

Harm excels at taking the everyday horror of living trapped in a body you don’t recognize as your own, dials it up to a hundred, then soaks it in blood, sex, and mad science.

Isa is a trans woman who struggles both with her weight and gender dysphoria. Her hormone replacement therapy (HRT) helps, but what she’d really love is to get facial feminization surgery (FFS) and it appears that her wish will soon become a reality. By raising money through her Twitch channel and charity streams, Isa has finally saved up enough to have the procedure. Everything is looking up. That is until her sister calls and all but demands the money for their shitty dad’s cancer treatment. Frankly I think the cancer is Karma for constantly misgendering his daughter and being all-around shitty to her, but despite my yelling at the pages to “not give that bastard a cent” Isa didn’t take my advice and caves under the guilt and familial pressure. Now that all the money everyone helped her raise is gone, Isa is just distraught and desperate enough to respond to a sketchy internet ad promising free and miraculous feminization treatments for trans women. As you can probably guess, this is not the wisest of decisions. as most things that sound too good to be true usually are. What follows is a bizarre and twisted journey of body horror and alchemy as Isa’s body transforms in ways she never expected.

If you’re someone who’s bugged by discussions of gender dysphoria and find the concept of passing problematic, you probably won’t enjoy this book. This is not a body positive story where the protagonist discovers her true beauty and learns to love herself. This is a book that explores what it’s like to feel disconnected from your body, like it’s some alien thing instead of part of you, and takes it to its extreme. Which honestly? I’m fine with. Body positivity is fucking hard guys. I totally support it and I’m happy for people who have learned to love their body and how they look, but for me that goal feels unattainable and it’s just too much pressure. I’m more a fan of body neutrality, which means you don’t have to love, or even like your appearance to feel good about yourself and appreciate what your body can do. We don’t live in a bubble and there’s constant pressure to appear thin, White, and cis to be considered attractive and accepted by society. Even if you understand intellectually that it’s transphobic to expect trans women to appear feminine and pass as cis and that beauty standards for women are inherently racist, sexist, and fatphobic it still wears on your self-esteem. I appreciate how Transmuted doesn’t pull any punches when examining gender dysphoria. Isa’s hatred of her appearance is painfully familiar and honest, as is her desperation to “fix” her face so she can stand to look in the mirror. It also reminds me of how one trans person, Luna, described her feelings of dysphoria “Gender dysphoria is something that is painful. It hurts. It’s… looking in the mirror and thinking, “Holy heck. Who is that person? Who am I looking at? Is that- Is that someone that’s come into my house?” And then realizing, no, that’s just- that’s just me in the mirror.”

It’s impossible to “think positive” all the time and that’s okay. Negative emotions and feelings are valid.

Despite how horribly wrong things go for Isa, this is not a warning about seeking gender affirming surgery or a lesson about being happy with what you have. It’s a horror story about unethical medical practitioners who prey on trans people, like surgeons who completely botch the surgery on their trans patients (trigger warning, graphic description of medical procedures at link), and illicit online pharmacies. Note that very few trans people regret getting gender confirmation surgery —only around 2%, compared to the 65% of people who regret getting cosmetic surgery — and most surgeries in the US are preformed by skilled surgeons who specialize in trans medicine. But there aren’t many of them, and the waiting list for their services can often be up to two hundred patients at a time. It’s incredibly difficult for trans people to access healthcare. According to LGBTQ taskforce nearly one-in-five trans people reported being denied needed health care outright because of their gender identity, 28% of trans and gender non-conforming people avoid seeking healthcare due to discrimination, and over 50% had to teach their providers about trans care. On top of the difficulty of trying to access healthcare, many trans people can’t afford it: 20% of trans people are uninsured and they’re nearly twice as likely to be living in poverty than the rest of the population.

ALCHEMY – TREE OF THE MOON – HERMAPHRODITE Engraving from Johann Daniel Mylius, Philosophia Reformata, 1622. The presence of the Tree of the Moon, or the Arbor Argentum, along with the fact that the hermaphrodite stands on a crescent Moon, indicates that this stage is the alchemical process marking the perfection of the First Silver. The hermaphroditic merging of the King and Queen indicates that the process is not yet complete, as integration has not taken place.

Isa’s situation is exaggerated for the purpose of making the story more horrifying, but her struggle to find healthcare isn’t. Both Isa and her best friend are part of the 10% of trans people forced to turn to the grey market for their HRT, so it’s clear that accessing trans-friendly healthcare is already a challenge for them. This is the scariest part of Transmuted to me, not the mad doctor and his twisted experiments or the bizarre mutations Isa goes through, but the knowledge that the remedy to her mental anguish is so simple, yet impossible to obtain like Tantalus reaching for the fruit tree in Tartarus, and the horror of knowing thousands of real trans people are in her situation every day.

Tags: Adult, Asian, Asian American, BIPOC, Body Horror, Book Review, Japanese, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Recommended, Trans

Hide and Seeker by Daka Hermon

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Scholastic

Genre: Demon, Monster, Psychological Horror

Audience: Children

Diversity: Black author and characters

Takes Place in: Tennessee, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Abuse, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Police Harassment

Blurb

One of our most iconic childhood games receives a creepy twist as it becomes the gateway to a nightmare world.

I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it? Justin knows that something is wrong with his best friend. Zee went missing for a year. And when he came back, he was . . . different. Nobody knows what happened to him. At Zee’s welcome home party, Justin and the neighborhood crew play Hide and Seek. But it goes wrong. Very wrong. One by one, everyone who plays the game disappears, pulled into a world of nightmares come to life. Justin and his friends realize this horrible place is where Zee had been trapped. All they can do now is hide from the Seeker.

You’d think I’d eventually learn that kid’s media can be just as scary as horror aimed at adults. After all, Over the Garden Wall, Coraline, and Skeleton Man all managed to scar me permanently. And yet, I went into Hide and Seeker foolishly assuming that it would be tame in comparison to my usual horror fare. Well, boy was I wrong. This book was INTENSE. I mean, just look at that cover! Suddenly I was a child again, hiding under the covers from the monsters in the darkness but still unable to put the book down despite the nightmares I knew it would cause. I haven’t had a good scare like that in a while and it was absolutely wonderful.

Over the Garden Wall — nightmare fuel for the whole family!

Jason is coping with the death of his mother and the disappearance of his best friend, Zee. Despite support from his sister and counselor he still struggles to accept her death and deal with his panic attacks (major kudos to Hermon for portraying an accurate depiction of panic attacks and anxiety). Then Zee reappears suddenly, covered in scars and speaking in riddles about a monster called the Seeker. What should be a joyous occasion quickly turns sour when children in the neighborhood start to disappear after a game of hide & seek. Jason and his friends Lyric and Nia soon learn that the kids were whisked away by the demonic Seeker to a place beyond their worst nightmares, and it looks like they’re next.

Of our trio of heroes, I’d have to say Nia is my favorite. She’s clever, rational, and despite her photographic memory and love of trivia she struggles with schoolwork. It was a nice change of pace to see the token “smart kid” suck at test taking and homework, a reminder that schoolwork is not an accurate measure of intelligence and ingenuity, and learning disabilities don’t mean you’re stupid. Nia uses her wits to help the kids out of more than one scrape and pushes her friends to be their best. She also knows enough about horror movie tropes to advise against splitting up the group. Nia is awesome. Not that Lyric or Jason are slouches. They’re fiercely loyal to each other, and it’s incredibly heartwarming. Even at their worst moments, the kids stick together and support their friends.

This is the perfect book for kids who love Goosebumps and Stranger Things but are still too young for Stephen King and R-rated Slashers. Hermon is amazing at creating atmosphere and building terror without relying on blood and gore (there are minor injuries though, like bug stings, burns, and minor cuts). Her dialogue conveys the intensity of the situation without swearing. By implying Nowhere is a place where all your greatest fears become real and leaves its victims traumatized and covered in scars, our imaginations are able to come up with the worst possible scenarios. Not that Hermon leaves everything up to the reader’s imagination: there are plenty of giant bugs, living dolls, needles, and rat-snake hybrids to convey how truly terrifying Nowhere is.

Justin faces a lot of scary things, but racists and systemic oppression aren’t among them. It was nice to have a middle-grade book with a Black hero that didn’t deal with racism. Black folks already have to deal with racism All. The. Time. We deserve escapist stories where Black kids get to exist without having to worry about discrimination. Nic Stone, author of Dear Martin put it best in her article for Cosmopolitan:

“…I can’t help but wonder how different the world would look if we’d all grown up seeing Black people do the stuff White people did in books. Going on adventures. Saving the day. Falling in love. Solving mysteries. Dealing with a broken heart. Getting caught up in a riveting love triangle. Taking down oppressive regimes. (I mean, HELLO, a bunch of farm animals took down a dictatorial pig in a book that’s been on middle school curriculum lists for decades. Yet Black people can’t survive the first book in a dystopia trilogy?) What if we’d seen Black people in books just being human?”

The closest the book gets to dealing with racism is when the kids get harassed by a police officer while riding their bikes though a nice neighborhood. Ironically, it’s the one White kid in the group that hates cops the most due to his father being sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and he warns the others not to ask the police for help. And it’s such a nice change to see Black kids fighting make-believe monsters rather than real ones.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Children, Demon, Highly Recommended, Monster, Psychological Horror

The Butcher’s Wife by Li Ang Translated by Howard Goldblatt and Ellen Yeung

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Peter Owens

Genre: Psychological Horror, Blood & Guts, Historic Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Taiwanese characters and author

Takes Place in: Taiwan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Body Shaming, Bullying, Death, Gore, Illness, Sexism, Slut-Shaming, Police Harassment, Physical Abuse, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexual Abuse, Attempted Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Victim-Blaming, Violence

Blurb

Chen Jiangshui is a pig-butcher in a small coastal Taiwanese town. Stocky, with a paunch and deep-set beady eyes, he resembles a pig himself. His brutality towards his new young wife, Lin Shi, knows no bounds. The more she screams, the more he likes it. She is further isolated by the vicious gossip of her neighbors who condemn her for screaming aloud. As they see it, women are supposed to be tolerant and put their husbands above everything else. According to an old Chinese belief, all butchers are destined for hell—an eternity of torment by the animals they have dispatched. Lin Shi, isolated, despairing, and finally driven to madness, fittingly kills him with his own instrument—a meat cleaver. A literary sensation in the Chinese language world with its suggestion that ritual and tradition are the functions of oppression, this novel also caused widespread outrage with its unsparing portrayal of sexual violence and emotional cruelty. This tale has made a profound impact on contemporary Chinese literature and today ranks as a landmark text in both women’s studies and world literature.

Warning: the rape scenes in this book are graphic and disturbing. They’re meant to be, though not in a way that feels like a cheap scare or exploitative. t’s still incredibly hard to read. Li focuses a lot of the injuries, both physical and emotional, that her main character endures as a result.

“Among Taiwan’s third-generation writers, Li Ang is the most controversial woman writer”

– MIT biography of Li Ang

Feminist author Li Ang published the Butcher’s Wife during the White Terror, the period of martial law between May 1949 to 15 July 1987 that started with the 228 incident, notable for its harsh censorship laws. When the Communists gained complete control of Mainland China in 1949, two million refugees fled to Taiwan. The Kuomintang (KMT) party of Taiwan arrested anyone they thought to be Communist sympathizers, including members of the Chinese Nationalist Party, intellectuals, the social elite, and anyone who criticized the government. Once arrested, inmates would be subjected to horrific torture or execution. In this way the KMT was able to rid themselves of anyone who might be resistant to their propaganda. Books that were suspected of promoting communist ideas were banned, including books from the Japanese colonial era, anything that went against traditional sexual morality, depicted characters challenging authority, went against popular sentiments, or “endangered the physical and mental health of youth” (if you enjoy horror games check out Red Candle’s Detention to learn more about the White Terror). Needless to say, anything by Karl Marx was also banned, even books by authors with names that started with “M,” such as Max Weber and Mark Twain, were suppressed because their first names sounded too similar to Marx in Mandarin. Most famously writer Bo Yang was jailed for eight years for translating Popeye cartoons because the KMT felt the comic was critical of leader Chiang Kai-shek. So what Li Ang did was incredibly risky, considering her book criticized traditional gender roles, Chinese society, and included frank depictions of sex and sexual violence. Critics, government officials, and self-proclaimed “moral guardians” were outraged when the United Daily News awarded Li’s novel first place in their annual literary contest.

The Popeye cartoon that led to Bo Yang’s arrest. From the Taipei Times.

The Butcher’s Wife starts with a news article reporting Lin Shi’s murder of her abusive husband. She kills him not only to protect herself, but to avenge the countless animals he butchered (Lin Shi can’t bear to see living things suffer, and her husband would torture her by forcing her to watch him kill animals). The newspaper seems convinced Lin Shi has a secret lover, claiming her confession “defies logic and reason” since the only possible reason a wife would have for murdering her husband is because she’s unfaithful and not as an act of self-preservation against an abusive monster. Others believe Lin Shi did it because she was “mentally unbalanced” after watching him kill animals. Locals are convinced it was a case of her mother reaching for revenge beyond the grave. Lin Shi is then paraded around on the back of a truck as a warning to others, before her execution. Men complain she’s not attractive enough, and that it would have been exciting if her non-existent secret lover were found. The article then goes on to complain about women who want equality and to attend Western schools, and the decline of “womanly virtues”. “Such demands are actually little more than excuses for a woman to leave house and home and make a public spectacle of herself. They comprise a mockery of the code of womanly conduct and destroy our age-old concepts of womanhood”. Lin Shi literally tells the police why she killed her husband, and they still don’t believe her.

Lin Shi has had a rough life. Her father died when she was nine and a greedy uncle used this opportunity to throw Lin Shi and her widowed mother out of their home, the one thing they had left, so he could have it for himself. The two are then forced to wander the streets doing odd jobs. One winter, when food is scare, Lin Shi’s starving mother prostitutes herself to a solider in exchange for food. When she’s discovered, her family ties her up and beats her, then takes Lin Shi away to live with her uncle, and they never see each other again. Lin Shi is forced to work as a servant for the very same uncle who stole her home and would like nothing better than to sell her off. With no mother, Lin Shi’s menarche comes as a shock, and the neighbors laugh at her as she screams “Save me, I’m bleeding to death!” Her uncle betroths the unfortunate girl to a pig-butcher who no one else is willing to marry. He brutally rapes her on their wedding night. Lin Shi’s cries of pain are compared to a dying pig, which arouses the butcher. He gets off on humiliating and hurting women and refers to them as “sluts”, “whores”, and “cunts”. Ironically, the only woman he seems to respect is Golden Flower, a prostitute. We only get glimpses of his past and humanity when he’s with her.

In Taiwan butchers were believed to go to hell upon their death where they’re tortured by the animals they’ve killed. There’s even a shrine outside the slaughterhouse dedicated to the souls of the animals where monthly ceremonies are held. In the netherworld, wives are considered equally guilty and also punished for their husband’s crimes. Chen Jiangshui kills Lin Shi’s ducklings in a fit of drunken rage and slaughters a pregnant sow when he first starts out as a butcher. The aborted piglets give him nightmares and the other slaughterhouses workers tell Chen Jiangshui that the piglets will demand the right to live from him and cause him to die a horrible death if their spirits aren’t appeased. Despite his initial fear, he suffers no ill fate, and eventually the butcher stops believing in spirits and retribution. He is filled with anger he is unable to control, and everything seems to anger him. Fear, discomfort, confusion, conflict, all transform him to a raging monster. Chen Jiangshui conflates sex and slaughtering pigs. Plunging his knife into their throats gives him great pleasure, as does forcing his wife to scream like a dying pig when he rapes her and beating her if she doesn’t cry enough. For him, the spurting of blood has an orgasmic effect. Ironically, while he’s aroused by bloodshed in violence and death, he’s disgusted by Lin Shit’s menstrual blood which he believes brings misfortune on a man. That’s how deep his hatred of women goes.

Like many people in abusive relationships, Lin Shi can’t leave. She has no support network, no money, and nowhere to go. She’s totally dependent on her husband for her survival. Lin Shi is pressured by her community to be a “good wife” and is blamed for anything bad that happens in the relationship.

It’s not only her husband who abuses her, Lin Shi is mocked by the other women, ones she considers friends, who look down on her for having sex so frequently (they too refuse to belief she’s being raped) and claim she’s a “slut” like her mother. They spread vicious gossip behind her back and belittle her to her face. Lin Shi is so used to mistreatment she doesn’t even try to correct them. Eventually, with no one to trust, she becomes terrified of everyone, walking with her shoulders hunched and avoiding the other women as much as possible. The one thing she loves, the ducklings she tries to raise, are killed by her husband. Auntie Ah-Wang, argues that Chen Jiangshui is a “good man” and can’t possibly be abusive since he saved her life. Lin Shi literally has no allies. The traditional patriarchal family system in Taiwan puts women in a subservient position to men. Even with updated laws to protect women, Taiwan still had a shockingly high rate of domestic abuse. “In 2016, 117,550 domestic violence cases were reported to officials in Taiwan. That is 322 each day, or one every five minutes” (source) and that’s only what’s been reported. The actual number could be much, much higher.

Li Ang’s book is a criticism of traditional patriarchal power structures and paints a stark picture of the everyday violence suffered by women not only in Taiwan, but the world over. Horrifying and beautifully written everyone owes it to themselves to read this unflinching tale of one woman’s domestic horror.

Tags: Adult, Asian, BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Highly Recommended, Historic Horror, Own Voices, Psychological Horror, Taiwanese

The Taking of Jake Livingston by Ryan Douglass

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Penguin Random House

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Gay, Black main character, Black side and major characters

Takes Place in: somewhere in the USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Bullying, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Gaslighting, Homophobia, Incest, Oppression, Mental Illness, Physical Abuse, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Slurs, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Jake Livingston is one of the only Black kids at St. Clair Prep, one of the others being his infinitely more popular older brother. It’s hard enough fitting in but to make matters worse and definitely more complicated, Jake can see the dead. In fact he sees the dead around him all the time. Most are harmless. Stuck in their death loops as they relive their deaths over and over again, they don’t interact often with people. But then Jake meets Sawyer. A troubled teen who shot and killed six kids at a local high school last year before taking his own life. Now a powerful, vengeful ghost, he has plans for his afterlife–plans that include Jake. Suddenly, everything Jake knows about ghosts and the rules to life itself go out the window as Sawyer begins haunting him and bodies turn up in his neighborhood. High school soon becomes a survival game–one Jake is not sure he’s going to win.

Being the only gay Black kid in a preppy, White private school sucks and I would know. Ryan Douglass does a perfect job capturing my high school experience in The Taking of Jake Livingston. Teachers are racist and assume everyone is straight. There are never any Black characters (besides slaves) in the books read for English class, and slavery gets glossed over in history. Black history isn’t mentioned at all except for maybe a day or two in February so the school can look woke. The whole thing feels like a scene from Get Out. I relate to Jake Livingston quite a lot. Except for the gender difference, he’s basically teenage me. He’s so paralyzed by anxiety and the thought of getting in trouble that Jake never lets himself have any fun, take risks, or even learn to drive. His low self-esteem means he doesn’t even recognize when a hunk named Alastor starts hitting on him. In fact, Alastor has to explicitly state that he’s interested and even then, Jake doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Reminds me of when my now-wife first asked me out on a date and I didn’t realize that it was a date because there was no way that tall, smart, hot chick could possibly be interested.

But hey, at least I never had to deal with seeing ghosts. Poor Jake sees the dead everywhere. Normally it’s just like watching a recording of someone’s final moments stuck in an endless loop, but occasionally the ghosts are sentient. Even more rarely, they can interact with the world. As you can probably guess, this makes life even harder for Jake who’s already living with the “weird kid” label. Jake was fine (or at least surviving) just keeping his head down, avoiding confrontations, and doing everything he could to stay out of trouble and avoid the school bully, Chad. That is until the ghost of Sawyer, a malicious ghost with a troubled past who seems to have it in for Jake, shows up. Sawyer is, or rather was, a school shooter. He died by suicide after bringing a gun to school and killing his classmates. Apparently that wasn’t enough death for him because Sawyer is hell bent on terrorizing Jake and increasing his body count.

There’s an interesting contrast between Sawyer and Jake. Both boys were abused by men in their lives, bullied by classmates, in the closet, and were introverts who felt alone in the world. But only one of them became a school shooter. Despite being put through a very similar hell, Jake never resorts to violence except once, and even then it’s fairly minor and honestly kind of justified (Chad was being a racist jerk and totally deserved it in my humble opinion). Jake fights back, Sawyer murders innocent people who had nothing to do with his abuse. So why the difference?

The majority of mass shooters are White men. According to Statista over the past 40 years 66% of mass shooters are White, nearly three times higher than the number of Black mass shooters. A study on school shootings by Joshua R Gregory states:

“Popular theories suggest that gun availability, mental illness, and bullying bear some relationship to school shootings; however, levels of gun availability, mental illness prevalence, and bullying victimization do not differ substantially between whites and non-whites, indicating that these factors might account for school shootings within, but not between, races.”

One theory is that men often lack the support networks needed to cope with loss, tragedy, and low self-esteem. Sawyer is alone and struggling with his mental health. His largely absent mother is more concerned with the perception of having a “weird” son than actually getting her son any help. She unfortunately buys into the common belief that having a mental health condition is somehow shameful for a man. As a result, Sawyer never gets help for his violent tendencies outside a handful of visits to a therapist who barely listens to him. He feels alone and unable to reach out. In contrast, Jake does develop a support network of family, friends, and even the ghosts of his ancestors to help him out when things are looking bleak. But that still doesn’t explain why White men are more likely to be school shooters than Black men. Is it because most White terrorists are racist extremists? In 2020 they were responsible for almost 70% of all domestic terrorism plots. But Sawyer doesn’t give any indication of being racist at any point. Or it could just be that he had access to a gun, as White men are 50% more likely to own a gun than Black men and most school shootings were carried out with legally purchased firearms. To be honest, I don’t know the answer.

For dealing with such a sensitive topic I think the book did rather well. Even though Douglass gave Sawyer a tragic backstory, it was never used as a justification for his actions. Trauma was also handled well and appropriately. Of course, the book was not without its flaws. The world-building felt undeveloped and I was unclear on the rules of “Dead World.” Why could some ghosts interact with Jake and others couldn’t? I really enjoyed the idea of Jake’s ancestors supporting him, to the point I was moved to tears, but it also left me puzzled. Were they ghosts too? Why hadn’t Jake noticed them before? It’s unfortunate, but I felt that the ghosts were the weakest part of the book. I found myself much more invested in Alastor and Jake’s adorable, developing relationship than anything that had to do with specters. Which is pretty weird for me, usually I hate romantic subplots and just want the story to focus on the scary parts. A lot of the story just felt confusing and messy, which hindered it from being a four-star book no matter how much I loved the characters. Despite its flaws, The Taking of Jake Livingston is still a good book, especially for queer Black kids, and worth checking out.

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Gay, Ghosts/Haunting, LGBTQIA, Recommended, Young Adult

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Hoodoo by Ronald L. Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Clarion Books

Genre: Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Demon, Occult, Myth and Folklore

Audience: Children

Diversity: BIPOC (Black, African American, Caribbean American)

Takes Place in: Alabama, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Bullying, Child Endangerment, Death, Illness, Racism, Physical Abuse

Blurb

Tags: African American, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Caribbean American, Demon, Diversity 4, Folk Horror, Historic Horror, Myths and Folklore, Occult, Own Voices, Recommended, Scariness 2, Writing 4

House of Pungsu by K.P. Kulski

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Bizarro Pulp Press

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Korean-American author, Korean characters

Takes Place in: Korea

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Death, Death, Sexism, Verbal/Emotional Abuse

Blurb

Following the Korean folk story of “A Tiger’s Whisker,” HOUSE OF PUNGSU is a feminist meditation on women’s inner identity and the struggle to rediscover it.

Tags: Asian, Asian American, BIPOC, Book Review, Dark Fantasy, Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic, Highly Recommended, Korean

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tor Nightfire

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster, Monster

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Trans author and characters, queer characters, Native character

Takes Place in: northeastern USA

Blurb

Y: The Last Man meets The Girl With All the Gifts in Gretchen Felker-Martin’s Manhunt, an explosive post-apocalyptic novel that follows trans women and men on a grotesque journey of survival.

Manhunt is a timely, powerful response to every gender-based apocalypse story that failed to consider the existence of transgender and non-binary people, from a powerful new voice in horror.

Tags: Adult, American Indian, Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Book Review, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Trans, Zombies

Conquer by Edward M. Erdelac

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Self Published

Genre: Historic Horror, Monster, Mystery, Myth and Folklore, Occult, Vampire

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black/African-American, Hispanic, Trans, Gay

Takes Place in: Harlem, New York, USA

Blurb

Tags: Adult, African American, Black, Book Review, Gay, Historic Horror, Latine/Latino, LGBTQIA, Monster, Mystery, Myths and Folklore, Occult, Recommended, Trans, vampire

Grievers by Adrienne Maree Brown

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: AK Press

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black/African-American, Lesbian

Takes Place in: Detroit, MI, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Illness, Medical Procedures

Blurb

“Grief was an amalgamation of absence narratives layered over each other”

[1] From the Journal of Experimental Psychology

Tags: Adult, African American, Apocalypse/Disaster, BIPOC, Black, Book Review, Highly Recommended, Lesbian, LGBTQIA, Own Voices

The Woods are Always Watching by Stephanie Perkins

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Dutton Books for Young Readers

Genre: Killer/Slasher, Thriller

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Indian-American Main character

Takes Place in: North Carolina, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Amputation, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gore, Kidnapping, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Violence

Blurb

Bears aren’t the only predators in these woods.

Simmering tensions lead to a detour off the trail and straight into a waking nightmare; and then into something far worse. Something that will test them in horrifying ways.

Tags: Asian, BIPOC, Book Review, Indian, Indian American, Killer/Slasher, Recommended, Thriller, Young Adult

Transmuted by Eve Harms

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Unerving

Genre: Body Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Trans main character and side character, queer main characters, Japanese-American side character

Takes Place in: Los Angeles, California, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Body Shaming, Forced Captivity, Gore, Medical Torture/Abuse, Medical Procedures, Transphobia

Blurb

Transmuted is an outrageous and unapologetically queer body horror tale that will leave you gasping, giggling, and gagging for more.

Harm excels at taking the everyday horror of living trapped in a body you don’t recognize as your own, dials it up to a hundred, then soaks it in blood, sex, and mad science.