Diversity in Horror Fiction

The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro

The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Penguin Random House

Genre: Body Horror, Demon, Ghosts/Haunting

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Chicana characters and author, bisexual main character

Takes Place in: Philadelphia, PA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Childbirth, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Illness, Miscarriage, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence, Xenophobia 

Blurb

Alejandra no longer knows who she is. To her husband, she is a wife, and to her children, a mother. To her own adoptive mother, she is a daughter. But they cannot see who Alejandra has become: a woman struggling with a darkness that threatens to consume her.

When Alejandra visits a therapist, she begins exploring her family’s history, starting with the biological mother she never knew. As she goes deeper into the lives of the women in her family, she learns that heartbreak and tragedy are not the only things she has in common with her ancestors.

Because the crying woman was with them, too. She is La Llorona, the vengeful and murderous mother of Mexican legend. And she will not leave until Alejandra follows her mother, her grandmother, and all the women who came before her into the darkness.

But Alejandra has inherited more than just pain. She has inherited the strength and the courage of her foremothers—and she will have to summon everything they have given her to banish La Llorona forever.

The Haunting of Alejandra is about the horrors of being a mother, wife, and woman, and the sacrifices that come with it.

We first meet Alejandra when she’s hiding from her family in the shower, crying and feeling overwhelmed by their many demands. Her husband Matthew is unsupportive and as needy and demanding as her three children. On the rare occasions when Alejandra asks him to help her with the housework, Matthew uses a combination of weaponized incompetence and guilt-tripping to get out of it. He’s made Alejandra move away from her support network in Texas, and the birth mother she’d just reconnected with. He’s also convinced her to quit her job and raise their children full time, meaning she no longer has money of her own. Matthew owns everything, Alejandra’s name isn’t even on the bills. He makes all the decisions for the family; where they live, what they buy, and even where they travel on vacation. If Alejandra’s needs don’t align with what he wants in the moment Matthew will make his displeasure known. She feels like a shadow, barely existing.

Alejandra’s situation will be familiar to many married women. Like most heterosexual couples she takes on the majority of the housework and mental load. Matthew provides little to no help with chores, child raising, or managing the household. This is, sadly, not uncommon as according to the BBC “When it comes to household responsibilities, women perform far more cognitive and emotional labour than men.” Alejandra has been trapped in this pattern since childhood, when, as the eldest daughter, her religious, adoptive parents forced her to do the bulk of the household chores and take care of her younger siblings. They also cut her off from her history and culture, refusing to let her read anything about Mexico that went against their fundamentalist Christian beliefs. Alejandra is surrounded by White people who don’t understand her. When she tries to tell her eldest daughter the story of La Llorona, something to connect her to her heritage, she’s scolded by her daughter’s teacher for telling her child scary stories.

Bar graph showing the roles of men and women in US society.

When Alejandra expresses dissatisfaction with her situation, her concerns aren’t taken seriously. Even when she admits to feeling suicidal she’s met with shame and “I’m sorry you feel that way” from her husband who frequently points out she has everything material she could ever want, so why should she be unhappy? Worse still, something that resembles la Llorona, the ghostly woman from Mexican folklore who drowned her two children, is haunting Alejandra, telling her she’s a terrible mother. Throughout the course of the story we learn that Alejandra is not the only mother the creature has haunted. Each of the women in Alejandra’s matrilineal line had their own struggles with motherhood and a lack of autonomy.  Miscarriage, feeling unworthy of love, carrying an unwanted child, forced marriage, teenage pregnancy, the list goes on. And each woman was haunted by the specter of la Llorona who fed off their pain and sorrow, resulting in generational trauma that goes back centuries.

Eventually Alejandra decides to take back the power her husband, parents, and the monster took from her by getting help. I really appreciated that unlike most fictional characters Alejandra actually has the self-awareness to go to therapy when she realizes how bad things have gotten. Even better, her therapist, Melanie, is competent, and culturally informed. She is a Chicana woman, like Alejandra, who practices both modern psychotherapy as a doctor and traditional medicine as a curandera. She believes Alejandra when the stressed mom tells her that she’s being stalked by some kind of monster and is able to advise her on how to protect herself from the evil sprit and cleanse her home. Melanie helps Alejandra reconnect to the cultural roots her adoptive parents sought to destroy, encouraging her to read up on this history of Chicana women and advising her to build an altar to her ancestors in her home. While we’ve all heard horror stories of bad therapists, I found it refreshing to see a therapist in fiction who’s actually good at her job and not a White man. Having had some incredibly helpful queer therapists myself I know the importance of having culturally competent care, and what a difference it makes when your provider isn’t basing their care on a White, heteronormative, Capitalist model. I loved Melanie, and I wish there were more doctors like her in the world.

Photo of Felicia Cocotzin Ruiz, a modern curandera. Photography by Laura Segall.

Alejandra also reaches out to her birth mother, who may not have been meant to raise a child but is more than ready to provide emotional support to her adult daughter. Melanie teaches her how to call upon the strength of her female ancestors who appear to her in her dreams. With all these strong women standing behind her Alejandra is able to find her own inner strength to stand up to both Matthew and her monster, as she fights to keep the generational curse from passing down to her own daughter. I really loved the theme of women supporting and healing other women. When Alejandra is finally able to ask for help without feeling guilty or like a burden the women in her life are there the minute she needs them. They believe her stories of a monster and are ready to offer their help in whatever for Alejandra needs it.

Overall The Haunting of Alejandra is an emotional and painful, but ultimately rewarding read about women, Mexican culture, and generational trauma. It’s a slow burn horror, and while I usually don’t have the patience for those I was so enraptured with the story that it felt like it flew by. While not a parent myself, I know women who are, and the book rang true of their more difficult experiences with motherhood like feeling overwhelmed and isolated. I’ve been following V. Castro’s books for a while now and I have to say, she just gets better and better with each piece she rights. It’s truly impressive and I can’t wait to read what she writes next.

Tags: BIPOC, Bisexual, Body Horror, Book Review, Chicana, Demon, Ghosts/Haunting, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Mexican, Own Voices
Linghun by Ai Jiang

Linghun by Ai Jiang

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Dark Matter Ink

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Chinese-Canadian main characters, non-binary side character

Takes Place in: Canada

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

Blurb

WELCOME HOME.

Follow Wenqi, Liam, and Mrs. in this modern gothic ghost story by Chinese-Canadian writer and immigrant, Ai Jiang. LINGHUN is set in the mysterious town of HOME, a place where the dead live again as spirits, conjured by the grief-sick population that refuses to let go.

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.

In most horror, haunted houses are something to be avoided at all costs. Characters who find themselves in a haunted home will do anything to escape. But in HOME, an exclusive community in Canada that’s trapped in the past, people will do anything, even kill, to purchase a haunted house. Instead of being feared or encouraged to move on, the ghosts of dead loved ones that haunt the houses in HOME are welcomed into the family. Living in HOME (which stands for Homecoming of Missing Entities) means never having to say goodbye to someone who dies, and never moving on. The novella is divided up between the perspectives of three characters, Wenqi, whose story is told in the first person, Liam in the third person, and Linghun in the second.

Wenqi has always lived under her older brother’s shadow, even more so since he died. She is neglected by her parents, especially her mother, who can’t move past the tragic death of their golden child. Unfortunately, like many countries, sexism and a preference for sons is still an issue in China. PhD student Xueqing Zhang, who studies gender inequality, wrote in an article for the South China Morning Post:

 “In China, a son is seen as insurance for continuing the family line, and the preference has persisted through the years, even as urbanization and economic development has brought many social changes to the nation. For the girls who are born, gender bias continues to overshadow their lives as they grow up.” 

As a daughter, Wenqi is valued less by her parents than her brother was and she has to live every day knowing they wish she had died instead of him. Her life is uprooted when her parents are able to purchase a house in HOME in the hopes of summoning the spirit of their dead son.

Linghun is an elderly woman who lives across the street from Wenqi’s family in HOME, and is the only resident whose house isn’t haunted. A mail order bride from a poor farming family in China, she is sold to a Canadian man who wants an exotic “china doll” instead of a wife. And because Linghun’s family is unable to support her, she has no choice but to become her late husband’s ideal woman, someone, quiet, beautiful, and obedient. In their paper titled The Ancient Origins of Chinese Traditional Female Gender Role : A Historical Review from Pre-Qin Dynasty to Han Dynasty authors Cheng Chen and Qin Bo state “for most women, even their names were not necessary. They were called someone’s daughter when unmarried, and called someone’s wife when married.” This clearly demonstrated by Linghun who is known only as “Mrs.” to her neighbors, and named Linghun by her husband who dislikes her real name. Throughout the story, she is known only by her aliases and her true name is never revealed until the very end when she finally becomes her own person, rather than a wife or daughter. Linghun is Mandarin for soul, or spirit, appropriate as the old woman becomes little more than a ghost herself, haunting her house instead of her dead husband.

Just as Linghun and Wenqi are both examples of how women and girls can be undervalued in Chinese culture, Liam and Wenqi demonstrate what it’s like to be a victim of neglect. Liam is what’s known as a lingerer, a person who has chosen (or in this case his parents have chosen) to live on the streets of HOME waiting desperately for a house to become available. Desperate to see the baby girl that was never born, Liam’s parents gave up everything to live as lingerers. They sit on the lawns of other people’s homes all day simply waiting. They eat gray slop from a truck and sleep on the ground. His parents push Liam to befriend Wenqi so they can get her house and otherwise ignore him.

In HOME, everyone is so trapped in the past that even the school seems to be 40 years out of date. Distractions, like computers, cellphones, and TVs are limited so residents can focus on the dead. Their lives have completely halted over someone who’s no longer there. Life cannot be sacred in a place where death is meaningless. The residents have more in common with the shades that wander aimlessly in their homes than the living. And most disturbingly of all, this is considered a highly coveted position to be in. People will willingly become homeless just waiting for the chance at a house. It’s like the worst parts of grief are being encouraged instead of processed in a healthy way. Like everyone, I’ve lost loved ones whom I desperately wish I could see again. But not enough to give up my entire life, nor would I want anyone I care about to do that for me. The hardest part to process for me was seeing the parents in the story neglect their living children for their dead ones. It was both infuriating and heartbreaking. Wenqi and Liam are treated as a means to get their dead siblings back and nothing more.

Linghun is a brilliant exploration of neglect, sexism, and the complexities of grief. Heartbreaking and disturbing, this novella is not your typical horror story, but HOME, to me, is more terrifying that any ghost. It’s not their reverence for the dead or their desire to see their loved ones again that disturbs me, in fact both those things are normal and highly relatable, but residents of HOME’s inability to move on.

Tags: Asian, Asian Canadian, BIPOC, Book Review, Chinese, Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Non-binary, Young
Crescentville Haunting by M.N. Bennet

Crescentville Haunting by M.N. Bennet

Formats: digital

Publisher:  Self published

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Monster, Occult, Romance, Vampire, Werewolf, Zombie

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Bisexual main character, non-binary minor character, Black major character

Takes Place in: LA, California

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Cannibalism, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Medical Procedures, Mental Illness, Racism, Sexism, Slurs, Slut-Shaming, Violence, Vomit, Xenophobia

Blurb

Determined to pass junior year, Logan won’t let Henry distract him—much. Logan’s focusing on all things human, which means his swoony vampire ex-boyfriend will have to file his own fangs for a change. When he goes to the school bonfire and runs into Henry, wandering into the woods seems like a great escape. Until he’s bitten by a wicked Crone with some twisted magical munchies.

Logan is certain his ex-free human future is done when he’s dragged off to a scientific institution for study. There, he’s presented with an opportunity to keep his life, family, and future. All he has to do is stick to human ideology, since all things paranormal are illegal. But complications arise when the Crone begins to haunt him and Logan realizes that if he wants to get his life back, he has to navigate his lingering feelings for Henry.

With the Crone set on devouring him and the institution ready to obliterate him for any missteps, Logan must decide between pursuing the human future his family wants—one that he thought he wanted too—or the chance to embrace Henry, even if the world isn’t ready.

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.

Logan just wants a safe, normal, drama-free junior year, and that means avoiding his vampire ex, Henry, at all costs. Which is easier said than done. Logan may be shy and awkward, but Henry is his complete opposite: confident, outgoing, and suave. When his best friend Kiera (a phantom) drags him to a bonfire party that’s supposed to help Logan relax, he discovers that trouble has a way of following him. Not only is Henry there, but Logan is attacked (for the second time since he first started dating Henry) by a powerful creature, this time a monstrous witch known as the “Crone.” After sustaining a bite from the Crone, Henry’s life changes forever.

Henry and Kiera are known as Vices, a group of monsters including phantoms, witches, vampires, trolls, sirens, and werewolves that are forced to live in the shadows due to public fear and draconian laws. The Crone is a sin, a powerful Vice that feeds on other Vices and can turn humans into undead monstrosities called Hauntings (think zombies and ghouls) with a single bite. After Henry’s attack he’s whisked away by SPU agents (the special police force in charge of catching and neutralizing Sins) to a secure facility designed to treat Hauntings, but to everyone’s surprise he doesn’t transform into a Haunting. It turns out Henry is a rare form of Vice, known as a Viceling, more human than Vice. The lore of Crescentville Haunting can get confusing in places, and there’s a lot of backstory. So much so that I actually checked to see if there was a prequel I had missed. But it’s no worse that any other fantasy novel with rich world building. If you can remember the rules of Quidditch, you can remember the magical classification system Bennet has created.

The characters are relatable and their voices sound authentic. The romance is steamy without being explicit and felt age appropriate for younger teens. It should be noted that while the book contains a paranormal romance, it’s not the central theme of the story. Instead, we focus on Logan’s struggles with his new identity and trying to fit into a human-centric world– an analogy for trying to fit into a heteronormative society when you’re LGBTQIA+. In Monsters in the closet: Homosexuality and the Horror Film Harry M. Benshoff writes “monster is to ‘normality’ as homosexual is to heterosexual.” LGBTQIA+ scholars have long equated queerness with fictional monsters and stories like Crescentville Haunting reclaim the “monstrous queer.” In Bennett’s story, the “homosexual vampire” is the hero rather than the villain, with the humans representing an oppressive heteronormative society and the facility attempting to “cure” Logan of his monstrousness a metaphor for conversion therapy. In addition to romance, the book also has plenty of horror, violence, and suspense, all courtesy of the Crone who continues to haunt Logan after the initial attack.

Overall, this was a fun read with a good world building, a cute relationship, and teens who actually sounded and acted like teens.

Tags: Bisexual, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, LGBTQIA, Monster, Occult, Own Voices, Recommended, Romance, vampire, Werebeast, Zombies
House of Pungsu by K.P. Kulski

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
The Taking of Jake Livingston by Ryan Douglass

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
Testament by Jose Nateras

Testament by Jose Nateras

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: NineStar Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Gay Main character and side characters, Bisexual side character, Hispanic/Latinx (Mexican American) Main Character, Asian-American side character, Black side character

Takes Place in: Chicago, IL, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Gaslighting, Homophobia, Mental Illness, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Suicide

Blurb

Gabe Espinosa, is trying to dig himself out of the darkness. Struggling with the emotional fallout of a breakup with his ex-boyfriend, Gabe returns to his job at The Rosebriar Room; the fine dining restaurant at the historic Sentinel Club Chicago Hotel. Already haunted by the ghosts of his severed relationship, he’s drastically unprepared for the ghosts of The Sentinel Club to focus their attentions on him as well.

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.

Once upon a time during a LGBTQ+ group therapy session, someone dropped one of those truth bombs that totally changed my perspective on things. “If you’re a minority in American you have trauma. You may not even be aware of it, but it’s there.” Holy. Shit. Suddenly the fact that I always felt stressed, anxious, and depressed made sense. I realized the headaches, stomach problems, chronic fatigue, and back and neck pain (for which I’d spent thousands of dollars seeing specialists only to be told they didn’t know what was wrong with me) were all due to minority stress. Well fuck.

Comic-style illustration of woman holding head and saying

Mind. Blown.

Testament is a horror story about trauma and minority stress, and the protagonist Gabe’s struggles were achingly familiar.  He worries about how to let new people know he’s gay in a way that feels natural, finding a boyfriend who doesn’t see him as “exotic” or call him “papi,” and working around a bunch of rich White people. And poor Gabe works in rich douche central, a swanky hotel that once functioned as a members-only men’s club called The Sentinel Club. As if working around so many White folk isn’t unnerving enough, the hotel also seems to be home to something supernatural and sinister. Something that has its attentions turned on Gabe.

**trigger warning: discussion of suicide and mental health**

Reeling from a suicide attempt after a bad breakup Gabe is not in the best place mentally. He’s incredibly hard on himself, constantly calling himself “worthless” and “pathetic.” He pushes people away assuming they don’t care and refuses to ask for help. As someone who has had their own battles with depression, this also felt achingly familiar. It was also incredibly well done. Writers tend to portray depression as someone staying in bed for days in a state of ennui and despair, unable to move and refusing to eat. But that kind of severe depressive episode is hardly commonplace. Most folks suffering from depression are still (at least partially) functional and go to great lengths to hide their illness in front of others, which is why it’s so difficult to recognize when someone’s actually depressed. Gabe gets dressed, goes to work and forces himself to smile and act like everything is fine while his brain screams insults at him and everything reminds him of his ex. 

**end of trigger warning **

What’s especially brilliant is how Nateras uses Gabe’s haunting to mimic his mental state. Gabe is trapped both by his past and the entity that latches on to him and follows him everywhere. It will seemingly disappear before suddenly and violently announcing its presence, much like his depression and PTSD. In fact, most of the horror in the story comes from Gabe wrestling with his inner demons rather than the outer ones. It’s not quite gothic fiction, but I’d definitely call it gothic-adjacent with its slow burn horror and tumultuous emotions. Of course, if you dislike the slower pace of gothic horror and its focus on the characters rather than the haunting, you may not enjoy Testament. Fortunately, it’s a quick read, so even if you get bored quickly like I do you’ll probably be fine. 

There’s a lot of discussion about the evils of privilege, power, and money. And they are evil. They corrupt and hurt those without. And while no, not all White people are evil, there’s no way of telling the good from the bad with a glance, and a lifetime of negative experiences sets off every alarm bell in my head. There’s nothing quite like the fear you experience when you realize you’re the only person of color in a sea of privileged White folk, even if they’re the “nice” liberal kind. Such situations immediately make me uncomfortable and anxious, even as a White-passing Black person. I jokingly call it that Get Out feeling. There’s a particular scene in the book I found especially frightening when Gabe gets on a subway car, discovers he’s the only non-White person there, and he’s surrounded by wealthy-looking men. It’s terrifying. Nateras knows it and uses the scene to make the book even scarier. He does it so well I want to shove Testament into White people’s faces and yell “See? This. This is how I feel all the time.”

Sadly not the worst date he’s been on with a White guy

I could go on and on about how the book uses minority stress to create horror and how the haunting is a metaphor for privileged White men who hurt BIPOC, but it would get into spoiler territory and I really want you to read this book. So, I’ll end it here with a warning, beware of White gentleman’s clubs because you never know what kind of evil lurks there.

Tags: Adult, Asian American, BIPOC, Bisexual, Black, Book Review, Gay, Ghosts/Haunting, Latine/Latino, LGBTQIA, Mexican, Psychological Horror, Recommended
How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: The Roadrunner Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting,  Historic Horror, Werebeast (Were-Panther/Nagual)

Audience: Children

Diversity: American Indian (Choctaw)

Takes Place in: Choctaw Nation, Mississippi, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Illness, Kidnapping, Oppression, Physical Abuse, Racism, Self-Harm, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Told in the words of Isaac, a Choctaw boy who does not survive the Trail of Tears, HOW I BECAME A GHOST is a tale of innocence and resilience in the face of tragedy. From the book’s opening line, “Maybe you have never read a book written by a ghost before,” the reader is put on notice that this is no normal book. Isaac leads a remarkable foursome of Choctaw comrades: a tough-minded teenage girl, a shape-shifting panther boy, a lovable five-year-old ghost who only wants her mom and dad to be happy, and Isaac s talking dog, Jumper. The first in a trilogy, HOW I BECAME A GHOST thinly disguises an important and oft-overlooked piece of history.

I was looking through the kid’s section of the library (before I get kicked out for being the creepy adult with no children) when I stumbled upon Tim Tingle’s How I Became a Ghost. The title intrigued me, I’m always looking for books by minority authors, and I loved the cover. Then I noticed the fine print: A Choctaw Trail of Tears Story. Tingle’s book is not a simple ghost story for kids, but an important work of historical fiction about the horrors of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, which illegally forced the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, Seminole, and Cherokee from their homes and resulted in the death of thousands of American Indians.

A dark-skinned father is walking with his light-skinned young son and holding his baby. They are in a children’s library full of brightly colored bookshelves and posters for “We Need Diverse Books Poster” and “Catch the Flesh Eating Reading Bacterium”. I’m hiding in one of the bookshelves like a gremlin, hissing. The boy asks his father “Daddy, what is that weird lady doing in the children’s library by herself?” The father, unconcerned, responds “Just keep walking and don’t make eye contact sweetie.”

I decided to draw a background for this picture, and quickly remembered why I hate drawing backgrounds. These are all real children’s book covers by the way. I also sneaked in a “Welcome to Night Vale” reference.

How I Became a Ghost is not a “fun” kind of scary story (though there are plenty of humorous moments- more on that later) where you can easily brush away your fear because you know it’s a work of pure fiction. The characters in the book may be fictional, but this is still a book based on true events, that caused a great deal of death, suffering, and the loss of ancestral homeland. The first half of the book is based on the real-life experiences of John Carnes, Tingle’s great-great-grandfather, who was forced to walk the Trail of Tears along with his family and lost his mother and brother to exposure and disease during their forced relocation. Tingle first recorded his account of Carnes’ life in the short story Trail of Tears for his anthology book, Walking the Choctaw Road, and would later use it as inspiration for writing How I Became a Ghost.

Tingle doesn’t shy away from descriptions of the Choctaw people cutting their flesh in mourning, being burned alive in their homes, dying from small pox infected blankets, and of course, children dying. Pretty rough stuff, but I think kids can handle it, Tingle does a great job of educating his audience about the Trail of Tears, while still keeping the content age appropriate. And as Shelley A. Welch, an Eastern Cherokee woman, wrote in her guest post for the blog American Indians in Children’s Literature:  “Some teachers will say that historical realities are too heavy for young children. Actually, it seems to be the adults that shy away from those topics …. who don’t seem to want to let go of American myths of ‘friendship and good will’ between the first settlers and the Indigenous people, a People who were once the majority and are now the smallest minority…. I can say that when children are told that one group bullied another, they are quite amazing peacemakers, acknowledging the breach of civil rights and offering cooperative resolutions. It is true, elementary-aged students aren’t developmentally ready for the specifics of genocide, but they can understand the inhumanity of racism. ” In other words, this book is loads better for children than all those Thanksgiving stories that propagate the lie of the “smiling (Wampanoag) Indian“. For kids who would prefer a non-fictional account of the Trail of Tears, there’s also Joseph Bruchac’s (author of Skeleton Man) children’s book that he wrote for the Step-Into-Reading series. But I think there’s something to be gained from reading a more personal (albeit fictional) account when learning about history. How I Became a Ghost also educates readers about Choctaw (Chahta) culture, spirituality, vocabulary, and even has a ghostly cameo from Chief Pushmataha.How I Became a Ghost is posthumously narrated by a ten-year-old Choctaw boy named Isaac. Isaac frequently brings up his impending death, so you spend the first two thirds of the story on edge, wondering when his time will come. At first, he’s plagued by visions of other Choctaw people dying, but eventually Isaac comes to terms with his own mortality and seems to accept it, though he does worry about how his family will react. I guess when you’re surrounded by death and you know the end is coming you start to feel pretty chill about the whole thing. There are plenty of scary moments for horror lovers, a teenage girl being abused by soldiers then hiding in the bonepickers‘ wagon, under a pile of bloody bones, stands out in particular.

For a story that’s written so simply (to make it easy for young readers) How I Became a Ghost leaves quite the impact.  Something about the plain, straightforward way Isaac describes the trail of bloody footprints he leaves behind or the parents carrying their dead child really stays with you. Not everything is dark and depressing however, Tingle adds plenty of humor and hope to his book, like Isaac’s father pretending to be a snow monster and playfully chasing his sons, the other family they befriend on the Trail of Tears, and one of the Choctaw elders teasing Isaac for his clumsiness as a ghost. As a bonus, these scenes also shatter the myth of the “humorless, serious Indian” that’s frequently perpetuated by Euro-American media. I never felt like I was reading a “sad” story, more a story of survival. The ending of Isaac’s life, while tragic, is not the end of his spirit, and he continues to help and guide his friends and family as a ghost. When he dies, Isaac is cheerfully welcomed into the afterlife by the other spirits (shilombish) who continue to watch over their loved ones. Like the Choctaw Nation, Isaac continues to persevere, albeit in a different form, despite all he has suffered and lost.

I do have a few nitpicks, because of course I do, but they’re all pretty minor. Isaac’s cause of death felt like a really odd choice to me. *Spoilers* He’s killed by a wolf, even though wolves killing humans are extremely rare, and even then almost always carried out by a pack of wolves rather than a lone individual. In other words, Isaac would have had a greater chance of being killed by a lightning strike than a wolf attack. So why not have him die another, less improbable way? *End Spoilers* The whole thing seemed random and highly unlikely, though Tingle may have just chosen to take artistic license for the sake of the plot. Isacc’s dog, Jumper, also confused me. He seemed to be able to speak, but it wasn’t clear if Jumper could actually talk, or if Isaac just imagined his responses, like I do with my cats (don’t judge me). I think it’s the latter, since no one else appears to be able to “hear” Jumper, but it’s never really explained. So, there’s just this random talking dog that doesn’t really serve a purpose story-wise except to be adorable (not that I’m going to complain about a good dog, dogs make everything better).

In the first panel, I’m cheerfully talking to a short-haired tortoise-shell cat and voicing her responses: “Hi Kitty! You’re so cute and fuzzy! Cute, fuzzy, kitty butt!” “Meow, go away, I don’t like you.” “Oh kitty, why are you such a grumpy grump?” In the second panel I look less thrilled as the cat ignores me and “asks” “Why are you such a loser?” “Kitty that’s not nice!” “It’s true though! And you have a butt face and no friends and you smell.” In the last panel I’m crying while the cat purrs happily.

Cats are jerks.

There’s also a kind of odd character introduction halfway through the story, with the appearance of Joseph the were-panther. Apparently, Isaac already knows Joseph from his village, it’s just that no one bothered to mention his existence or wonder where he was prior to that point in the story, not even his own grandparents who were introduced in the first few chapters. Well, I guess it’s nice that this guy we had absolutely no knowledge of previously managed to survive? It’s also odd that Joseph turns into a black panther, and not a cougar (which is also known as a panther), a large cat that’s native to North America. At first I assumed the black panther on the cover was a stylistic choice, until Tingle describes Joseph’s feline form as having a black coat. Melanistic color variants only occur in leopards and jaguars, not cougars, and jaguars wouldn’t be found so far north. They do sometimes wander into New Mexico and Arizona, and there were even reports of jaguars in California during the 1800s (leopards are located on an entirely different continent), but having one appear in Mississippi seemed unlikely. At first I thought Joseph might be half Aztec or Olmec, since Tingle doesn’t reveal anything about his parents and both Indigenous groups have stories about people who can turn into jaguars. But it’s also likely that black, shape-shifting cougars are a part of Choctaw theology that I’m just not familiar with. Black panthers also make appearances in Tim Tingle’s House of Purple Cedar and Caleb, the latter of his works, also about a shape-shifting boy. I did try to do some further research into the matter, but with all the false information out there regarding American Indian beliefs, spirituality, and legends I wasn’t able to come up with much. There also seem to be a lot of legends in Mississippi about black panthers. Who knows?Sorry, I went off on a weird tangent there…

I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground, reading a copy of “How I Became a Ghost”. A black panther is standing behind me and reading over my shoulder. I complain “Cougars don’t have melanistic color variants!” The panther responds “You realize no one but you cares, right?”

I get really caught up on weird details, you’d think I’d be more concerned about the panther reading over my shoulder, but nope.

The writing may feel a little childish for adults and older readers, and not necessarily something I’d recommend for people in that age group (instead I’d suggest Tingle’s original Trail of Tears story, which is similar to How I Became a Ghost, but aimed at older readers and non-fictional), but kids will definitely get a kick out of the story and the epic rescue mission staged by Issac and his panther friend, and it will hopefully pique their interest in history and the Choctaw Nation. I know I’ll certainly be interested in checking out the sequel, When A Ghost Talks, Listen, when it’s released.

Tags: American Indian, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Choctaw, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Own Voices, Recommended, Southeast Native Nations, Werebeast
After the People Lights Have Gone Off by Stephen Graham Jones

After the People Lights Have Gone Off by Stephen Graham Jones

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Dark House Press

Genre: Monster, Paranormal, Demon, Werewolf, Zombie, Killer/Slasher, Romance, Ghosts/Haunting, Sci-Fi Horror, Psychological Horror, Vampire

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: American Indian (Blackfoot/Niitsitapi), Queer (Gay Men), Disability (Paraplegic)

Takes Place in: USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Endangerment, Child Death, Gore, Violence, Death, Torture, Homophobia, Self-Harm, Implied Sexual Assault 

Blurb

The fifteen stories in After the People Lights Have Gone Off by Stephen Graham Jones explore the horrors and fears of the supernatural and the everyday. Included are two original stories, several rarities and out of print narratives, as well as a few “best of the year” inclusions. In “Thirteen,” horrors lurk behind the flickering images on the big screen. “Welcome to the Reptile House” reveals the secrets that hide in our flesh. In “The Black Sleeve of Destiny,” a single sweatshirt leads to unexpectedly dark adventures. And the title story, “After the People Lights Have Gone Off,” is anything but your typical haunted house story.

With an introduction by Edgar Award winner Joe R. Lansdale, and featuring fifteen full-page illustrations by Luke Spooner, After the People Lights Have Gone Off gets under your skin and stays there.

For Native American Heritage Month I’d thought I’d review a collection of short stories by one of horror’s greatest writers, Stephen Graham Jones.

Do you ever find yourself reading this awesome, interesting book, but then you get to the last chapter and go “What the fuck did I just read?” I’m not talking stories with ambiguous endings where it’s left open to interpretation, like in Inception where it’s unclear whether Cobb is still in a dream or not (and then you spend hours arguing about it on the internet), but the ending still makes sense. No, I’m referring to endings that are downright obfuscating (yay, I have a thesaurus!). Endings where you have to skip back to check if you missed some really obvious clue, only to find that no, the story really does end like that, and then you’re left wondering if you’re just not smart (or high) enough to “get it”. For example, 2001: A Space Odyssey. I know it’s this amazing, classic film, but what the hell was up with that giant space baby!?! Did the really obvious metaphor for the birth of humanity just fly over my head or did Kubrick just drop a bunch of LSD? Or both? Seriously WTF? Am I the only person who doesn’t get it?

In the first panel a TV is showing a scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey with a giant, human fetus/star child floating in the void and looking at the planet earth. The second panel reveals me watching the film, bewildered, and asking “The hell is even happening right now?”

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have tried watching this movie at 3 AM.

Well, Stephen Graham Jones is a master of the WTF ending. In some ways this works to his advantage, like when it highlights the confusion and mental instability of the narrator, or preys on the reader’s fear of the unknown. Subtle scares can be terrifying when done right, and when Jones gets it right, it works SO WELL, like with Second Chances where the final sentence of the story hits you like a punch in the gut. But Jones makes things too subtle you’re left scratching your head and wondering what you’re supposed to be scared of. It’s like when the creepy music starts playing in a film, you know you’re supposed to feel uneasy because something bad is about to happen, but then, when the final dissonant chord is struck, everything just sort of ends without the payoff of a monster jumping out or even a terrified scream to imply something horrible just happened. Which is, unfortunately, really not that scary. After the People Lights Have Gone Off (the short story, not the book), Uncle, Xebico and Brush Monster all have this problem. Did someone die? Was there a monster? Is the narrator hallucinating? Did anything bad even happen? Am I just not smart enough to get it? It’s especially frustrating when the rest of the story makes sense, like in Xebico, but then the ending just kind of goes off the rails.

A sad, melting snow man with ear muffs, a whale with a bowtie shooting rainbows out of its blowhole, and a rabbit with a flower in its mouth, wearing a top hat and sunglasses are floating in midair and surrounded by sparkles. Looking uncomfortable, I ask, “Ummmm, so what am I supposed to be scared of? Is it the rabbit?”

I’m pretty sure it’s the sketchy looking rabbit.

Of course, none of this makes Jones a bad writer. He’s actually incredibly talented, aside from the whole confusing ending thing which is probably due more to me being obtuse than a lack of skill on Jones’ part. Like King, Jones has a real flair for making the mundane fucking terrifying.  For example, The Black Sleeve of Destiny, which is about a Lovecraftian hoodie. That’s right, a hoodie. Well, that and some poor kid’s mild kleptomania spinning out of control until it becomes a full blown obsession, but mostly the evil hoodie that seems to act as a pocket dimension with a mind of its own. There’s also The Spider Box (such a creepy title) about a cardboard fruit box that resurrects the dead.  Somehow Jones managers to cover all the horror staples in his book (demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, killers, and zombies) while still making his stories seem fresh and unique. A great example of this is Welcome to the Reptile House, one of the most distinct and creative vampire stories I’ve ever read. In fact, I didn’t even know it was a vampire story when I started reading it, so, uh, sorry for the spoiler.

Septa Unella from Game of Thrones is ringing her bell and chanting “shame, shame, shame”. Annoyed, I snap “Oh my God, it was one spoiler!”

Septa Unella shows up any time someone reveals a spoiler. Or at least, she SHOULD.

But not all the stories in this collection are your traditional tales of horror, some could even be considered love stories. Albeit, really messed up, creepy love stories, but love stories nonetheless. One story is even called This is Love. Jones explores different kinds of relationships in his novel, from lovers and devoted spouses, to childhood crushes, to familial love between siblings, parents and children, and even extended family. Snow Monsters is a heartwarming tale about what a parent will sacrifice for their child, but with a supernatural twist. Doc’s Story, explores the bonds of a struggling family, and is one of the most human stories in the collection, ironic since it’s about werewolves.  In After the People Lights Have Gone Off (again, the short story, not the collection) and The Dead are Not we see examples of the complete devotion married couples have for each other, even when things get difficult and terrifying. Of course, there are also inversions, like Uncle, which is about a couple that has fallen out of love, and the husband’s feelings of guilt for not mourning his wife’s death.

Oh, and a little tip, before picking this book up I strongly recommend checking out Stephen King’s short story The Man in the Black Suit and H. F. Arnold’s The Night Wire (both of which you should read regardless because they’re awesome). Why? Well The Spindly Man is a horror story about a book group discussing King’s famous horror story (how’s that for Inception?), while Xebico is about adapting The Night Wire to the stage. And as cheesy as having a scary short story about another scary short story sounds, they’re both pretty awesome, yet another indicator of Jones’ talent.

Overall, After the People Lights Have Gone Off (this time I am referring to the book) is an amazing anthology by a talented author, as long as you’re okay with stream of consciousness writing and not always understanding what the hell you just read. Or maybe it’s just me, and the rest of you will have some deeper understanding of the stories. Jones’ work definitely makes me feel like I’m the only one at the party not getting the joke.

Tags: Adult, American Indian, Anthology, BIPOC, Blackfoot, Book Review, Disability, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Plains Native Nations, Romance, vampire
Shutter by Courtney Alameda

Shutter by Courtney Alameda

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Square Fish Books

Genre: Monster, Ghosts/Haunting, Zombie, Vampires, Blood & Guts, Thriller, Horror, Romance

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: POC (Love interest is part Aboriginal Islander, author is Latina), Disability (PTSD)

Takes Place in: type here

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Violence, Gore, Child Death, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Child Abuse, Sexism, Sexual Harassment/Assault, Torture 

Blurb

Lock, stock, and lens, she’s in for one hell of a week.

Micheline Helsing is a tetrachromat-a girl who sees the auras of the undead in a prismatic spectrum. As one of the last descendants of the Van Helsing lineage, she has trained since childhood to destroy monsters both corporeal and spiritual: the corporeal undead go down by the bullet, the spiritual undead by the lens. With an analog SLR camera as her best weapon, Micheline exorcises ghosts by capturing their spiritual energy on film. She’s aided by her crew: Oliver, a techno-whiz and the boy who developed her camera’s technology; Jude, who can predict death; and Ryder, the boy Micheline has known and loved forever.


When a routine ghost hunt goes awry, Micheline and the boys are infected with a curse known as a soulchain. As the ghostly chains spread through their bodies, Micheline learns that if she doesn’t exorcise her entity in seven days or less, she and her friends will die. Now pursued as a renegade agent by her monster-hunting father, Leonard Helsing, she must track and destroy an entity more powerful than anything she’s faced before . . . or die trying.


Shutter by Courtney Alameda is a thrilling horror story laced with an irresistible romance.

As a 90’s kid, I grew up with some truly terrible action films. And I loved them. Mortal Kombat, Wild Wild West, and Total Recall are all proudly displayed on my DVD shelf. So I like to think I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to plots full of holes and cookie-cutter characters, as long as the story itself is fun and entertaining. Keeping that in mind, let’s dive into Shutter, the literary equivalent of a bad action film.

We’ll start with our four, action-cliché, main characters. We’ve got the leader of the good guys, complete with her obligatory tragic backstory, the tough guy who always has her back, the smart guy who’s good with computers but not so great at fighting, and the wise cracking jackass who we’re supposed to like but just comes off as sexist and irritating. They exist to spout “clever” quips at each other, provide exposition at awkward times, and act like bad asses.

Following a standard action movie formula, the hero decides to rush off on her own without backup, and gets suspended by the boss (who’s also her abusive dad). But they go after the bad guy anyway because screw the rules, they’re action heroes! Then there’s lots of cool action scenes, explosions, some TRULY creepy shit, and a love story that gets shoehorned in there.

Okay, so the writing is “meh”, the characters are kind of flat, and the story formulaic as hell, but was it at least exciting and entertaining?  Was their nail biting suspense and horror? I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I need to address some major issues I had with story, the first being its heroine, Micheline.Micheline is a tetrachromat, able to see the invisible “ghost light” given off by the undead. As a direct descendant of Abraham Van Helsing, (because of course she is) she is sworn to protect the world from monsters, and captures and exorcises ghosts on her camera, à la Fatal Frame. Now, I’m going to give the author major props for making the lead a woman, something that doesn’t happen often in the action genre (but is slowly becoming more common). So that’s great. What’s not so great is that Micheline has this really annoying habit of having to prove what a “Strong Female Character TM” she is by running head first into danger, then needing to be rescued by the guys. Apparently nothing says “bad ass” like poor decision making and being a damsel in distress.

Micheline, is wearing her tactical, Hellsing gear and has her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She’s leaping in the air, brandishing a gun in one hand, and a camera in the other while gleefully shouting “Leerrooooy Jenkins!!!!”

Great teamwork there.

I can understand why she might want to prove herself; Micheline is struggling with PTSD and an abusive father, so it would make sense if the story was about her difficulty returning to active duty while suffering from flashbacks. Overcoming something like that is no easy task. But her trauma and strained relationship with her father seem to be their own separate thing, with little to nothing to do with her foolhardy, reckless, and selfish behavior. At least Micheline doesn’t take her grief out on everyone else, like her jerk-ass dad, she just puts their lives in danger by keeping important information from them, making everything about her, and refusing to deal with her issues. So, basically a pretty awful leader. I also got this whole “I’m not like other girls, I’m a cool girl” vibe from Micheline. Throughout the book she kept putting down other women and/or viewing them as competition for her “boys”, which was just sexist and gross. Basically, what could have been a cool, strong, female action hero was ruined by internalized sexism, bad decisions, and needing men to save her all the freaking time.

Another huge problem with Shutter was the flow of the action scenes. There is SO MUCH exposition and info dumping, and it keeps interrupting the suspenseful parts of the story. I mean, it’s wonderful how much thought Alameda put into this world, and I was certainly interested in the science behind monster hunting, but I don’t want to read a full page about how a camera works right when Micheline is about to be killed by a ghost. It’d be like pausing the duel scene between Luke and Vader to give a five minute lecture on the technology behind lightsabers. It’s cool and all, but really not the right time, and completely destroys the tension.

Micheline is fighting a shadowy creature with a glowing blue mouth and eyes. In the first panel she’s attempting to take its photo. In the second, both she and the monster jump out of the way in surprise as the words “INFO DUMP” fall from the sky. They both stand there awkwardly as an extensive, verbose paragraph about trichromsticism scrolls by. The shadow monsters asks “So do we just wait, or what?”

Forget the incredibly dramatic fight scene, let’s learn about trichromsticism!

Okay, so now for the moment you’ve been waiting for, was it at least entertaining? Heck yeah it was! The overall story was great, suspenseful, and fun, with some truly terrifying scenes. By the time I got to the second half of the book, I couldn’t put it down! The monsters were incredibly creative and creepy, like something out of Silent Hill, and the horror scenes were spot on. Alameda does an excellent job of building suspense and creating a creepy atmosphere (minus the random info dumps that kill the mood). It’s worth pointing out that this is the author’s debut novel, so it’s understandable that the book has flaws. Even the great Terry Pratchett’s early work was, admittedly, not that great, and he’s one of my favorite authors! So Alameda definitely has time to hone her skills and improve on her characterization and exposition. She’s already great at world building, horror, and action scenes. And honestly, it’s nice to see a horror novel written by a Latina author. The genre is severely lacking in Latine/Latina writers, and the few I know of are mostly men.

Overall, Shutter is a fun, suspenseful read, even with its flaws. If I could just take out the annoying characters, and focus on the plot, the monsters, and the fight scenes, the book would be perfect, like a horror survival game. That’s actually not a bad idea, it could be a cross between Fatal Frame and Resident Evil, where you can just explore abandoned buildings and fight monsters instead of listening to pointless dialogue. At least in a video game I can skip random info dumps.

The Microsoft paperclip asks “It looks like you’re trying to play a video game, would you like me to annoy you the next hour while I explain how to use the controls?” Annoyed, I complain “Argh, just let me fight monsters already!” and skip the tutorial. 15 minutes later, I wonder to myself how the hell I’m supposed to play this game.

I just imagine all annoying video game tutorials as being done by either Navi or the Microsoft Paperclip.

I just imagine all annoying video game tutorials as being done by either Navi or the Microsoft Paperclip.

Tags: BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Disability, Ghosts/Haunting, Indigenous Australian, Latine/Latino, Mental Illness, Monster, Not for Me, PTSD, Romance, Thriller, Young Adult, Zombies
The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike, translated by Deborah Boliver Boehm

The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike, translated by Deborah Boliver Boehm

Formats: Print

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Thriller

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Japanese characters

Takes Place in: Japan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Forced Captivity

Blurb

A terrifying tale of a young family who move into an apartment building next to a graveyard and the horrors that are unleashed upon them.

One of the most popular writers working in Japan today, Mariko Koike is a recognized master of detective fiction and horror writing. Known in particular for her hybrid works that blend these styles with elements of romance, The Graveyard Apartment is arguably Koike’s masterpiece. Originally published in Japan in 1986, Koike’s novel is the suspenseful tale of a young family that believes it has found the perfect home to grow in to, only to realize that the apartment’s idyllic setting harbors the specter of evil and that longer they stay, the more trapped they become.

This tale of a young married couple who are harboring a dark secret is packed with dread and terror, as they and their daughter move into a brand new apartment building built next to a graveyard. As strange and terrifying occurrences begin to pile up, people in the building begin to move out one by one, until the young family is left alone with someone… or something… lurking in the basement. The psychological horror builds moment after moment, scene after scene, culminating with a conclusion that will make you think twice before ever going into a basement again.

Next up for Asian and Pacific American heritage month, is a new translation of Mariko Koike’s popular 1986 horror novel, The Graveyard Apartment.The Graveyard Apartment had a great premise; a married couple and their young daughter move into a haunted apartment near a cemetery and creepy shit keeps happening, but they’re unwilling to move due to their financial situation, societal pressure to appear normal, and the husband’s deep denial that anything is wrong. The book explores their feelings of emptiness and isolation and their struggle with their fears, both mundane and supernatural. But what should have been amazing ended up being very, well, “meh”. So how exactly does one manage to fuck up what should have been a fool proof haunted house formula? 

To be completely fair, much of the awkward writing present in the English version could very well be due to translation problems. But unless the translator of The Graveyard Apartment pulled a 4KIDs Entertainment and just started making up random shit and cutting out half the story, there’s only so much you can blame on her. The problems with the book go far beyond a language barrier issue. The biggest setback is that half the story seems pointless (maybe the translator should have cut some of it out after all). Koike spends more time on random details, like what her main character, Misao, is wearing, than she does on the evil entity haunting the building. There’s even an entire chapter, later on in the book, dedicated to visiting a realtor’s office and looking at new apartments. Can you handle the terror as her husband, Teppei, walks their daughter to school? Shiver as the doomed couple look at rental listings within their budget!

A picture draw in the style of a vintage horror movie posters shows a Japanese woman with poofy, 80’s hair screaming in horror at a random assortment of leftovers (daikon radish, red bean paste, pickled umeboshi plums, lettuce, soy sauce, and mushrooms) in front of her. In creepy looking, dripping, front across the top it says “Witness the horror as Misao tries to make dinner with ‘The Random Leftovers!’

The story takes place in the 80’s so I tried to give her poofy 80’s hair. I was not successful.

And even when Koike does finally get to the creepy stuff, it’s a crapshoot whether or not it actually has anything do with the plot or just more random detailing. For example; early on in the book we discover Teppei’s first wife, Reiko, committed suicide because he was cheating on her with Misao. So you’d think that Reiko’s vengeful spirit would somehow be involved in the plot. Well, you’d be wrong. The suicide backstory serves no purpose other than highlighting what a remorseless dick Teppei is. We also learn that at one point there were plans to build an underground shopping center, but they were abandoned after the initial tunnel was built. So maybe the project disturbed the graves above and angered the spirits? Nope. The project was abandoned because people didn’t want the cemetery relocated, so the graves were pretty much left alone. Actually we never learn why the ghosts (or demons, or monsters, or whatever) are such huge assholes. Usually ghosts haunt the living because they’re pissed off about being murdered or moved, or having a Taco Bell built over their remains, but these entities just like to lock doors, mess with the elevators, and put handprints on the glass, because…. reasons. I dunno, maybe they just really hate whoever does the building maintenance, or they’re a bunch of drunk frat boys.

The comic shows the annoying ghost of a frat boy, sticking out his tongue and waking up another man by screaming “Woooo! Bro, let’s play some beer pong!” The ghost is muscular, holding a Solo cup, and is wearing a Polo shirt with a popped collar, a backwards baseball hat, and a Puka shell necklace. The man he has just woken up is shirtless, with two subcutaneous mastectomy scars on his chest. Irritated, he responds “Can’t you just rattle chains and make the lights flicker like a normal ghost?”

Not so much evil as incredibly irritating.

The story and characters are well written enough, it just isn’t scary. Well, except for the ending, where all the horror gets crammed into the last few chapters of the book. It’s like Koike suddenly went “Shit! I’ve got four chapters left, and the scariest things in the book so far are a creepy basement and being forced to into awkward social situations!” (Granted, awkward social situations are much scarier than any demonic entity). So then the ghosts (or demons, or whatever) go from mildly irritating to eldritch abominations with god damn superpowers and a lust for blood.Oh, and just as the story is starting to get scary and suspenseful? It finishes with a vague, open ending and we STILL don’t know what the fuck is wrong with the building! To top it off, the ending isn’t even part of the actual story, it’s a freaking epilogue! WHAT? There was all this slow buildup up for the most underwhelming payoff ever. Way to get my hopes up, Koike! Look, The Graveyard Apartment isn’t a bad book overall, which is why I didn’t knock it down to “not recommended”, it just doesn’t work as a haunted house story.

Tags: Adult, Asian, BIPOC, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, Japanese, Own Voices, Recommended, Thriller

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The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro

The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Penguin Random House

Genre: Body Horror, Demon, Ghosts/Haunting

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Chicana characters and author, bisexual main character

Takes Place in: Philadelphia, PA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Childbirth, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Illness, Miscarriage, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence, Xenophobia 

Blurb

Alejandra no longer knows who she is. To her husband, she is a wife, and to her children, a mother. To her own adoptive mother, she is a daughter. But they cannot see who Alejandra has become: a woman struggling with a darkness that threatens to consume her.

When Alejandra visits a therapist, she begins exploring her family’s history, starting with the biological mother she never knew. As she goes deeper into the lives of the women in her family, she learns that heartbreak and tragedy are not the only things she has in common with her ancestors.

Because the crying woman was with them, too. She is La Llorona, the vengeful and murderous mother of Mexican legend. And she will not leave until Alejandra follows her mother, her grandmother, and all the women who came before her into the darkness.

But Alejandra has inherited more than just pain. She has inherited the strength and the courage of her foremothers—and she will have to summon everything they have given her to banish La Llorona forever.

The Haunting of Alejandra is about the horrors of being a mother, wife, and woman, and the sacrifices that come with it.

We first meet Alejandra when she’s hiding from her family in the shower, crying and feeling overwhelmed by their many demands. Her husband Matthew is unsupportive and as needy and demanding as her three children. On the rare occasions when Alejandra asks him to help her with the housework, Matthew uses a combination of weaponized incompetence and guilt-tripping to get out of it. He’s made Alejandra move away from her support network in Texas, and the birth mother she’d just reconnected with. He’s also convinced her to quit her job and raise their children full time, meaning she no longer has money of her own. Matthew owns everything, Alejandra’s name isn’t even on the bills. He makes all the decisions for the family; where they live, what they buy, and even where they travel on vacation. If Alejandra’s needs don’t align with what he wants in the moment Matthew will make his displeasure known. She feels like a shadow, barely existing.

Alejandra’s situation will be familiar to many married women. Like most heterosexual couples she takes on the majority of the housework and mental load. Matthew provides little to no help with chores, child raising, or managing the household. This is, sadly, not uncommon as according to the BBC “When it comes to household responsibilities, women perform far more cognitive and emotional labour than men.” Alejandra has been trapped in this pattern since childhood, when, as the eldest daughter, her religious, adoptive parents forced her to do the bulk of the household chores and take care of her younger siblings. They also cut her off from her history and culture, refusing to let her read anything about Mexico that went against their fundamentalist Christian beliefs. Alejandra is surrounded by White people who don’t understand her. When she tries to tell her eldest daughter the story of La Llorona, something to connect her to her heritage, she’s scolded by her daughter’s teacher for telling her child scary stories.

Bar graph showing the roles of men and women in US society.

When Alejandra expresses dissatisfaction with her situation, her concerns aren’t taken seriously. Even when she admits to feeling suicidal she’s met with shame and “I’m sorry you feel that way” from her husband who frequently points out she has everything material she could ever want, so why should she be unhappy? Worse still, something that resembles la Llorona, the ghostly woman from Mexican folklore who drowned her two children, is haunting Alejandra, telling her she’s a terrible mother. Throughout the course of the story we learn that Alejandra is not the only mother the creature has haunted. Each of the women in Alejandra’s matrilineal line had their own struggles with motherhood and a lack of autonomy.  Miscarriage, feeling unworthy of love, carrying an unwanted child, forced marriage, teenage pregnancy, the list goes on. And each woman was haunted by the specter of la Llorona who fed off their pain and sorrow, resulting in generational trauma that goes back centuries.

Eventually Alejandra decides to take back the power her husband, parents, and the monster took from her by getting help. I really appreciated that unlike most fictional characters Alejandra actually has the self-awareness to go to therapy when she realizes how bad things have gotten. Even better, her therapist, Melanie, is competent, and culturally informed. She is a Chicana woman, like Alejandra, who practices both modern psychotherapy as a doctor and traditional medicine as a curandera. She believes Alejandra when the stressed mom tells her that she’s being stalked by some kind of monster and is able to advise her on how to protect herself from the evil sprit and cleanse her home. Melanie helps Alejandra reconnect to the cultural roots her adoptive parents sought to destroy, encouraging her to read up on this history of Chicana women and advising her to build an altar to her ancestors in her home. While we’ve all heard horror stories of bad therapists, I found it refreshing to see a therapist in fiction who’s actually good at her job and not a White man. Having had some incredibly helpful queer therapists myself I know the importance of having culturally competent care, and what a difference it makes when your provider isn’t basing their care on a White, heteronormative, Capitalist model. I loved Melanie, and I wish there were more doctors like her in the world.

Photo of Felicia Cocotzin Ruiz, a modern curandera. Photography by Laura Segall.

Alejandra also reaches out to her birth mother, who may not have been meant to raise a child but is more than ready to provide emotional support to her adult daughter. Melanie teaches her how to call upon the strength of her female ancestors who appear to her in her dreams. With all these strong women standing behind her Alejandra is able to find her own inner strength to stand up to both Matthew and her monster, as she fights to keep the generational curse from passing down to her own daughter. I really loved the theme of women supporting and healing other women. When Alejandra is finally able to ask for help without feeling guilty or like a burden the women in her life are there the minute she needs them. They believe her stories of a monster and are ready to offer their help in whatever for Alejandra needs it.

Overall The Haunting of Alejandra is an emotional and painful, but ultimately rewarding read about women, Mexican culture, and generational trauma. It’s a slow burn horror, and while I usually don’t have the patience for those I was so enraptured with the story that it felt like it flew by. While not a parent myself, I know women who are, and the book rang true of their more difficult experiences with motherhood like feeling overwhelmed and isolated. I’ve been following V. Castro’s books for a while now and I have to say, she just gets better and better with each piece she rights. It’s truly impressive and I can’t wait to read what she writes next.

Tags: BIPOC, Bisexual, Body Horror, Book Review, Chicana, Demon, Ghosts/Haunting, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Mexican, Own Voices
Linghun by Ai Jiang

Linghun by Ai Jiang

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Dark Matter Ink

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Chinese-Canadian main characters, non-binary side character

Takes Place in: Canada

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

Blurb

WELCOME HOME.

Follow Wenqi, Liam, and Mrs. in this modern gothic ghost story by Chinese-Canadian writer and immigrant, Ai Jiang. LINGHUN is set in the mysterious town of HOME, a place where the dead live again as spirits, conjured by the grief-sick population that refuses to let go.

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.

In most horror, haunted houses are something to be avoided at all costs. Characters who find themselves in a haunted home will do anything to escape. But in HOME, an exclusive community in Canada that’s trapped in the past, people will do anything, even kill, to purchase a haunted house. Instead of being feared or encouraged to move on, the ghosts of dead loved ones that haunt the houses in HOME are welcomed into the family. Living in HOME (which stands for Homecoming of Missing Entities) means never having to say goodbye to someone who dies, and never moving on. The novella is divided up between the perspectives of three characters, Wenqi, whose story is told in the first person, Liam in the third person, and Linghun in the second.

Wenqi has always lived under her older brother’s shadow, even more so since he died. She is neglected by her parents, especially her mother, who can’t move past the tragic death of their golden child. Unfortunately, like many countries, sexism and a preference for sons is still an issue in China. PhD student Xueqing Zhang, who studies gender inequality, wrote in an article for the South China Morning Post:

 “In China, a son is seen as insurance for continuing the family line, and the preference has persisted through the years, even as urbanization and economic development has brought many social changes to the nation. For the girls who are born, gender bias continues to overshadow their lives as they grow up.” 

As a daughter, Wenqi is valued less by her parents than her brother was and she has to live every day knowing they wish she had died instead of him. Her life is uprooted when her parents are able to purchase a house in HOME in the hopes of summoning the spirit of their dead son.

Linghun is an elderly woman who lives across the street from Wenqi’s family in HOME, and is the only resident whose house isn’t haunted. A mail order bride from a poor farming family in China, she is sold to a Canadian man who wants an exotic “china doll” instead of a wife. And because Linghun’s family is unable to support her, she has no choice but to become her late husband’s ideal woman, someone, quiet, beautiful, and obedient. In their paper titled The Ancient Origins of Chinese Traditional Female Gender Role : A Historical Review from Pre-Qin Dynasty to Han Dynasty authors Cheng Chen and Qin Bo state “for most women, even their names were not necessary. They were called someone’s daughter when unmarried, and called someone’s wife when married.” This clearly demonstrated by Linghun who is known only as “Mrs.” to her neighbors, and named Linghun by her husband who dislikes her real name. Throughout the story, she is known only by her aliases and her true name is never revealed until the very end when she finally becomes her own person, rather than a wife or daughter. Linghun is Mandarin for soul, or spirit, appropriate as the old woman becomes little more than a ghost herself, haunting her house instead of her dead husband.

Just as Linghun and Wenqi are both examples of how women and girls can be undervalued in Chinese culture, Liam and Wenqi demonstrate what it’s like to be a victim of neglect. Liam is what’s known as a lingerer, a person who has chosen (or in this case his parents have chosen) to live on the streets of HOME waiting desperately for a house to become available. Desperate to see the baby girl that was never born, Liam’s parents gave up everything to live as lingerers. They sit on the lawns of other people’s homes all day simply waiting. They eat gray slop from a truck and sleep on the ground. His parents push Liam to befriend Wenqi so they can get her house and otherwise ignore him.

In HOME, everyone is so trapped in the past that even the school seems to be 40 years out of date. Distractions, like computers, cellphones, and TVs are limited so residents can focus on the dead. Their lives have completely halted over someone who’s no longer there. Life cannot be sacred in a place where death is meaningless. The residents have more in common with the shades that wander aimlessly in their homes than the living. And most disturbingly of all, this is considered a highly coveted position to be in. People will willingly become homeless just waiting for the chance at a house. It’s like the worst parts of grief are being encouraged instead of processed in a healthy way. Like everyone, I’ve lost loved ones whom I desperately wish I could see again. But not enough to give up my entire life, nor would I want anyone I care about to do that for me. The hardest part to process for me was seeing the parents in the story neglect their living children for their dead ones. It was both infuriating and heartbreaking. Wenqi and Liam are treated as a means to get their dead siblings back and nothing more.

Linghun is a brilliant exploration of neglect, sexism, and the complexities of grief. Heartbreaking and disturbing, this novella is not your typical horror story, but HOME, to me, is more terrifying that any ghost. It’s not their reverence for the dead or their desire to see their loved ones again that disturbs me, in fact both those things are normal and highly relatable, but residents of HOME’s inability to move on.

Tags: Asian, Asian Canadian, BIPOC, Book Review, Chinese, Ghosts/Haunting, Gothic, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Non-binary, Young
Crescentville Haunting by M.N. Bennet

Crescentville Haunting by M.N. Bennet

Formats: digital

Publisher:  Self published

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Monster, Occult, Romance, Vampire, Werewolf, Zombie

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Bisexual main character, non-binary minor character, Black major character

Takes Place in: LA, California

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Alcohol Abuse, Cannibalism, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Medical Procedures, Mental Illness, Racism, Sexism, Slurs, Slut-Shaming, Violence, Vomit, Xenophobia

Blurb

Determined to pass junior year, Logan won’t let Henry distract him—much. Logan’s focusing on all things human, which means his swoony vampire ex-boyfriend will have to file his own fangs for a change. When he goes to the school bonfire and runs into Henry, wandering into the woods seems like a great escape. Until he’s bitten by a wicked Crone with some twisted magical munchies.

Logan is certain his ex-free human future is done when he’s dragged off to a scientific institution for study. There, he’s presented with an opportunity to keep his life, family, and future. All he has to do is stick to human ideology, since all things paranormal are illegal. But complications arise when the Crone begins to haunt him and Logan realizes that if he wants to get his life back, he has to navigate his lingering feelings for Henry.

With the Crone set on devouring him and the institution ready to obliterate him for any missteps, Logan must decide between pursuing the human future his family wants—one that he thought he wanted too—or the chance to embrace Henry, even if the world isn’t ready.

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.

Logan just wants a safe, normal, drama-free junior year, and that means avoiding his vampire ex, Henry, at all costs. Which is easier said than done. Logan may be shy and awkward, but Henry is his complete opposite: confident, outgoing, and suave. When his best friend Kiera (a phantom) drags him to a bonfire party that’s supposed to help Logan relax, he discovers that trouble has a way of following him. Not only is Henry there, but Logan is attacked (for the second time since he first started dating Henry) by a powerful creature, this time a monstrous witch known as the “Crone.” After sustaining a bite from the Crone, Henry’s life changes forever.

Henry and Kiera are known as Vices, a group of monsters including phantoms, witches, vampires, trolls, sirens, and werewolves that are forced to live in the shadows due to public fear and draconian laws. The Crone is a sin, a powerful Vice that feeds on other Vices and can turn humans into undead monstrosities called Hauntings (think zombies and ghouls) with a single bite. After Henry’s attack he’s whisked away by SPU agents (the special police force in charge of catching and neutralizing Sins) to a secure facility designed to treat Hauntings, but to everyone’s surprise he doesn’t transform into a Haunting. It turns out Henry is a rare form of Vice, known as a Viceling, more human than Vice. The lore of Crescentville Haunting can get confusing in places, and there’s a lot of backstory. So much so that I actually checked to see if there was a prequel I had missed. But it’s no worse that any other fantasy novel with rich world building. If you can remember the rules of Quidditch, you can remember the magical classification system Bennet has created.

The characters are relatable and their voices sound authentic. The romance is steamy without being explicit and felt age appropriate for younger teens. It should be noted that while the book contains a paranormal romance, it’s not the central theme of the story. Instead, we focus on Logan’s struggles with his new identity and trying to fit into a human-centric world– an analogy for trying to fit into a heteronormative society when you’re LGBTQIA+. In Monsters in the closet: Homosexuality and the Horror Film Harry M. Benshoff writes “monster is to ‘normality’ as homosexual is to heterosexual.” LGBTQIA+ scholars have long equated queerness with fictional monsters and stories like Crescentville Haunting reclaim the “monstrous queer.” In Bennett’s story, the “homosexual vampire” is the hero rather than the villain, with the humans representing an oppressive heteronormative society and the facility attempting to “cure” Logan of his monstrousness a metaphor for conversion therapy. In addition to romance, the book also has plenty of horror, violence, and suspense, all courtesy of the Crone who continues to haunt Logan after the initial attack.

Overall, this was a fun read with a good world building, a cute relationship, and teens who actually sounded and acted like teens.

Tags: Bisexual, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, LGBTQIA, Monster, Occult, Own Voices, Recommended, Romance, vampire, Werebeast, Zombies
House of Pungsu by K.P. Kulski

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
The Taking of Jake Livingston by Ryan Douglass

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
Testament by Jose Nateras

Testament by Jose Nateras

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: NineStar Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Gay Main character and side characters, Bisexual side character, Hispanic/Latinx (Mexican American) Main Character, Asian-American side character, Black side character

Takes Place in: Chicago, IL, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Gaslighting, Homophobia, Mental Illness, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Suicide

Blurb

Gabe Espinosa, is trying to dig himself out of the darkness. Struggling with the emotional fallout of a breakup with his ex-boyfriend, Gabe returns to his job at The Rosebriar Room; the fine dining restaurant at the historic Sentinel Club Chicago Hotel. Already haunted by the ghosts of his severed relationship, he’s drastically unprepared for the ghosts of The Sentinel Club to focus their attentions on him as well.

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.

Once upon a time during a LGBTQ+ group therapy session, someone dropped one of those truth bombs that totally changed my perspective on things. “If you’re a minority in American you have trauma. You may not even be aware of it, but it’s there.” Holy. Shit. Suddenly the fact that I always felt stressed, anxious, and depressed made sense. I realized the headaches, stomach problems, chronic fatigue, and back and neck pain (for which I’d spent thousands of dollars seeing specialists only to be told they didn’t know what was wrong with me) were all due to minority stress. Well fuck.

Comic-style illustration of woman holding head and saying

Mind. Blown.

Testament is a horror story about trauma and minority stress, and the protagonist Gabe’s struggles were achingly familiar.  He worries about how to let new people know he’s gay in a way that feels natural, finding a boyfriend who doesn’t see him as “exotic” or call him “papi,” and working around a bunch of rich White people. And poor Gabe works in rich douche central, a swanky hotel that once functioned as a members-only men’s club called The Sentinel Club. As if working around so many White folk isn’t unnerving enough, the hotel also seems to be home to something supernatural and sinister. Something that has its attentions turned on Gabe.

**trigger warning: discussion of suicide and mental health**

Reeling from a suicide attempt after a bad breakup Gabe is not in the best place mentally. He’s incredibly hard on himself, constantly calling himself “worthless” and “pathetic.” He pushes people away assuming they don’t care and refuses to ask for help. As someone who has had their own battles with depression, this also felt achingly familiar. It was also incredibly well done. Writers tend to portray depression as someone staying in bed for days in a state of ennui and despair, unable to move and refusing to eat. But that kind of severe depressive episode is hardly commonplace. Most folks suffering from depression are still (at least partially) functional and go to great lengths to hide their illness in front of others, which is why it’s so difficult to recognize when someone’s actually depressed. Gabe gets dressed, goes to work and forces himself to smile and act like everything is fine while his brain screams insults at him and everything reminds him of his ex. 

**end of trigger warning **

What’s especially brilliant is how Nateras uses Gabe’s haunting to mimic his mental state. Gabe is trapped both by his past and the entity that latches on to him and follows him everywhere. It will seemingly disappear before suddenly and violently announcing its presence, much like his depression and PTSD. In fact, most of the horror in the story comes from Gabe wrestling with his inner demons rather than the outer ones. It’s not quite gothic fiction, but I’d definitely call it gothic-adjacent with its slow burn horror and tumultuous emotions. Of course, if you dislike the slower pace of gothic horror and its focus on the characters rather than the haunting, you may not enjoy Testament. Fortunately, it’s a quick read, so even if you get bored quickly like I do you’ll probably be fine. 

There’s a lot of discussion about the evils of privilege, power, and money. And they are evil. They corrupt and hurt those without. And while no, not all White people are evil, there’s no way of telling the good from the bad with a glance, and a lifetime of negative experiences sets off every alarm bell in my head. There’s nothing quite like the fear you experience when you realize you’re the only person of color in a sea of privileged White folk, even if they’re the “nice” liberal kind. Such situations immediately make me uncomfortable and anxious, even as a White-passing Black person. I jokingly call it that Get Out feeling. There’s a particular scene in the book I found especially frightening when Gabe gets on a subway car, discovers he’s the only non-White person there, and he’s surrounded by wealthy-looking men. It’s terrifying. Nateras knows it and uses the scene to make the book even scarier. He does it so well I want to shove Testament into White people’s faces and yell “See? This. This is how I feel all the time.”

Sadly not the worst date he’s been on with a White guy

I could go on and on about how the book uses minority stress to create horror and how the haunting is a metaphor for privileged White men who hurt BIPOC, but it would get into spoiler territory and I really want you to read this book. So, I’ll end it here with a warning, beware of White gentleman’s clubs because you never know what kind of evil lurks there.

Tags: Adult, Asian American, BIPOC, Bisexual, Black, Book Review, Gay, Ghosts/Haunting, Latine/Latino, LGBTQIA, Mexican, Psychological Horror, Recommended
How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

How I Became a Ghost by Tim Tingle

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: The Roadrunner Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting,  Historic Horror, Werebeast (Were-Panther/Nagual)

Audience: Children

Diversity: American Indian (Choctaw)

Takes Place in: Choctaw Nation, Mississippi, USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Illness, Kidnapping, Oppression, Physical Abuse, Racism, Self-Harm, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence

Blurb

Told in the words of Isaac, a Choctaw boy who does not survive the Trail of Tears, HOW I BECAME A GHOST is a tale of innocence and resilience in the face of tragedy. From the book’s opening line, “Maybe you have never read a book written by a ghost before,” the reader is put on notice that this is no normal book. Isaac leads a remarkable foursome of Choctaw comrades: a tough-minded teenage girl, a shape-shifting panther boy, a lovable five-year-old ghost who only wants her mom and dad to be happy, and Isaac s talking dog, Jumper. The first in a trilogy, HOW I BECAME A GHOST thinly disguises an important and oft-overlooked piece of history.

I was looking through the kid’s section of the library (before I get kicked out for being the creepy adult with no children) when I stumbled upon Tim Tingle’s How I Became a Ghost. The title intrigued me, I’m always looking for books by minority authors, and I loved the cover. Then I noticed the fine print: A Choctaw Trail of Tears Story. Tingle’s book is not a simple ghost story for kids, but an important work of historical fiction about the horrors of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, which illegally forced the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, Seminole, and Cherokee from their homes and resulted in the death of thousands of American Indians.

A dark-skinned father is walking with his light-skinned young son and holding his baby. They are in a children’s library full of brightly colored bookshelves and posters for “We Need Diverse Books Poster” and “Catch the Flesh Eating Reading Bacterium”. I’m hiding in one of the bookshelves like a gremlin, hissing. The boy asks his father “Daddy, what is that weird lady doing in the children’s library by herself?” The father, unconcerned, responds “Just keep walking and don’t make eye contact sweetie.”

I decided to draw a background for this picture, and quickly remembered why I hate drawing backgrounds. These are all real children’s book covers by the way. I also sneaked in a “Welcome to Night Vale” reference.

How I Became a Ghost is not a “fun” kind of scary story (though there are plenty of humorous moments- more on that later) where you can easily brush away your fear because you know it’s a work of pure fiction. The characters in the book may be fictional, but this is still a book based on true events, that caused a great deal of death, suffering, and the loss of ancestral homeland. The first half of the book is based on the real-life experiences of John Carnes, Tingle’s great-great-grandfather, who was forced to walk the Trail of Tears along with his family and lost his mother and brother to exposure and disease during their forced relocation. Tingle first recorded his account of Carnes’ life in the short story Trail of Tears for his anthology book, Walking the Choctaw Road, and would later use it as inspiration for writing How I Became a Ghost.

Tingle doesn’t shy away from descriptions of the Choctaw people cutting their flesh in mourning, being burned alive in their homes, dying from small pox infected blankets, and of course, children dying. Pretty rough stuff, but I think kids can handle it, Tingle does a great job of educating his audience about the Trail of Tears, while still keeping the content age appropriate. And as Shelley A. Welch, an Eastern Cherokee woman, wrote in her guest post for the blog American Indians in Children’s Literature:  “Some teachers will say that historical realities are too heavy for young children. Actually, it seems to be the adults that shy away from those topics …. who don’t seem to want to let go of American myths of ‘friendship and good will’ between the first settlers and the Indigenous people, a People who were once the majority and are now the smallest minority…. I can say that when children are told that one group bullied another, they are quite amazing peacemakers, acknowledging the breach of civil rights and offering cooperative resolutions. It is true, elementary-aged students aren’t developmentally ready for the specifics of genocide, but they can understand the inhumanity of racism. ” In other words, this book is loads better for children than all those Thanksgiving stories that propagate the lie of the “smiling (Wampanoag) Indian“. For kids who would prefer a non-fictional account of the Trail of Tears, there’s also Joseph Bruchac’s (author of Skeleton Man) children’s book that he wrote for the Step-Into-Reading series. But I think there’s something to be gained from reading a more personal (albeit fictional) account when learning about history. How I Became a Ghost also educates readers about Choctaw (Chahta) culture, spirituality, vocabulary, and even has a ghostly cameo from Chief Pushmataha.How I Became a Ghost is posthumously narrated by a ten-year-old Choctaw boy named Isaac. Isaac frequently brings up his impending death, so you spend the first two thirds of the story on edge, wondering when his time will come. At first, he’s plagued by visions of other Choctaw people dying, but eventually Isaac comes to terms with his own mortality and seems to accept it, though he does worry about how his family will react. I guess when you’re surrounded by death and you know the end is coming you start to feel pretty chill about the whole thing. There are plenty of scary moments for horror lovers, a teenage girl being abused by soldiers then hiding in the bonepickers‘ wagon, under a pile of bloody bones, stands out in particular.

For a story that’s written so simply (to make it easy for young readers) How I Became a Ghost leaves quite the impact.  Something about the plain, straightforward way Isaac describes the trail of bloody footprints he leaves behind or the parents carrying their dead child really stays with you. Not everything is dark and depressing however, Tingle adds plenty of humor and hope to his book, like Isaac’s father pretending to be a snow monster and playfully chasing his sons, the other family they befriend on the Trail of Tears, and one of the Choctaw elders teasing Isaac for his clumsiness as a ghost. As a bonus, these scenes also shatter the myth of the “humorless, serious Indian” that’s frequently perpetuated by Euro-American media. I never felt like I was reading a “sad” story, more a story of survival. The ending of Isaac’s life, while tragic, is not the end of his spirit, and he continues to help and guide his friends and family as a ghost. When he dies, Isaac is cheerfully welcomed into the afterlife by the other spirits (shilombish) who continue to watch over their loved ones. Like the Choctaw Nation, Isaac continues to persevere, albeit in a different form, despite all he has suffered and lost.

I do have a few nitpicks, because of course I do, but they’re all pretty minor. Isaac’s cause of death felt like a really odd choice to me. *Spoilers* He’s killed by a wolf, even though wolves killing humans are extremely rare, and even then almost always carried out by a pack of wolves rather than a lone individual. In other words, Isaac would have had a greater chance of being killed by a lightning strike than a wolf attack. So why not have him die another, less improbable way? *End Spoilers* The whole thing seemed random and highly unlikely, though Tingle may have just chosen to take artistic license for the sake of the plot. Isacc’s dog, Jumper, also confused me. He seemed to be able to speak, but it wasn’t clear if Jumper could actually talk, or if Isaac just imagined his responses, like I do with my cats (don’t judge me). I think it’s the latter, since no one else appears to be able to “hear” Jumper, but it’s never really explained. So, there’s just this random talking dog that doesn’t really serve a purpose story-wise except to be adorable (not that I’m going to complain about a good dog, dogs make everything better).

In the first panel, I’m cheerfully talking to a short-haired tortoise-shell cat and voicing her responses: “Hi Kitty! You’re so cute and fuzzy! Cute, fuzzy, kitty butt!” “Meow, go away, I don’t like you.” “Oh kitty, why are you such a grumpy grump?” In the second panel I look less thrilled as the cat ignores me and “asks” “Why are you such a loser?” “Kitty that’s not nice!” “It’s true though! And you have a butt face and no friends and you smell.” In the last panel I’m crying while the cat purrs happily.

Cats are jerks.

There’s also a kind of odd character introduction halfway through the story, with the appearance of Joseph the were-panther. Apparently, Isaac already knows Joseph from his village, it’s just that no one bothered to mention his existence or wonder where he was prior to that point in the story, not even his own grandparents who were introduced in the first few chapters. Well, I guess it’s nice that this guy we had absolutely no knowledge of previously managed to survive? It’s also odd that Joseph turns into a black panther, and not a cougar (which is also known as a panther), a large cat that’s native to North America. At first I assumed the black panther on the cover was a stylistic choice, until Tingle describes Joseph’s feline form as having a black coat. Melanistic color variants only occur in leopards and jaguars, not cougars, and jaguars wouldn’t be found so far north. They do sometimes wander into New Mexico and Arizona, and there were even reports of jaguars in California during the 1800s (leopards are located on an entirely different continent), but having one appear in Mississippi seemed unlikely. At first I thought Joseph might be half Aztec or Olmec, since Tingle doesn’t reveal anything about his parents and both Indigenous groups have stories about people who can turn into jaguars. But it’s also likely that black, shape-shifting cougars are a part of Choctaw theology that I’m just not familiar with. Black panthers also make appearances in Tim Tingle’s House of Purple Cedar and Caleb, the latter of his works, also about a shape-shifting boy. I did try to do some further research into the matter, but with all the false information out there regarding American Indian beliefs, spirituality, and legends I wasn’t able to come up with much. There also seem to be a lot of legends in Mississippi about black panthers. Who knows?Sorry, I went off on a weird tangent there…

I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground, reading a copy of “How I Became a Ghost”. A black panther is standing behind me and reading over my shoulder. I complain “Cougars don’t have melanistic color variants!” The panther responds “You realize no one but you cares, right?”

I get really caught up on weird details, you’d think I’d be more concerned about the panther reading over my shoulder, but nope.

The writing may feel a little childish for adults and older readers, and not necessarily something I’d recommend for people in that age group (instead I’d suggest Tingle’s original Trail of Tears story, which is similar to How I Became a Ghost, but aimed at older readers and non-fictional), but kids will definitely get a kick out of the story and the epic rescue mission staged by Issac and his panther friend, and it will hopefully pique their interest in history and the Choctaw Nation. I know I’ll certainly be interested in checking out the sequel, When A Ghost Talks, Listen, when it’s released.

Tags: American Indian, BIPOC, Book Review, Children, Choctaw, Ghosts/Haunting, Historic Horror, Own Voices, Recommended, Southeast Native Nations, Werebeast
After the People Lights Have Gone Off by Stephen Graham Jones

After the People Lights Have Gone Off by Stephen Graham Jones

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Dark House Press

Genre: Monster, Paranormal, Demon, Werewolf, Zombie, Killer/Slasher, Romance, Ghosts/Haunting, Sci-Fi Horror, Psychological Horror, Vampire

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: American Indian (Blackfoot/Niitsitapi), Queer (Gay Men), Disability (Paraplegic)

Takes Place in: USA

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Endangerment, Child Death, Gore, Violence, Death, Torture, Homophobia, Self-Harm, Implied Sexual Assault 

Blurb

The fifteen stories in After the People Lights Have Gone Off by Stephen Graham Jones explore the horrors and fears of the supernatural and the everyday. Included are two original stories, several rarities and out of print narratives, as well as a few “best of the year” inclusions. In “Thirteen,” horrors lurk behind the flickering images on the big screen. “Welcome to the Reptile House” reveals the secrets that hide in our flesh. In “The Black Sleeve of Destiny,” a single sweatshirt leads to unexpectedly dark adventures. And the title story, “After the People Lights Have Gone Off,” is anything but your typical haunted house story.

With an introduction by Edgar Award winner Joe R. Lansdale, and featuring fifteen full-page illustrations by Luke Spooner, After the People Lights Have Gone Off gets under your skin and stays there.

For Native American Heritage Month I’d thought I’d review a collection of short stories by one of horror’s greatest writers, Stephen Graham Jones.

Do you ever find yourself reading this awesome, interesting book, but then you get to the last chapter and go “What the fuck did I just read?” I’m not talking stories with ambiguous endings where it’s left open to interpretation, like in Inception where it’s unclear whether Cobb is still in a dream or not (and then you spend hours arguing about it on the internet), but the ending still makes sense. No, I’m referring to endings that are downright obfuscating (yay, I have a thesaurus!). Endings where you have to skip back to check if you missed some really obvious clue, only to find that no, the story really does end like that, and then you’re left wondering if you’re just not smart (or high) enough to “get it”. For example, 2001: A Space Odyssey. I know it’s this amazing, classic film, but what the hell was up with that giant space baby!?! Did the really obvious metaphor for the birth of humanity just fly over my head or did Kubrick just drop a bunch of LSD? Or both? Seriously WTF? Am I the only person who doesn’t get it?

In the first panel a TV is showing a scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey with a giant, human fetus/star child floating in the void and looking at the planet earth. The second panel reveals me watching the film, bewildered, and asking “The hell is even happening right now?”

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have tried watching this movie at 3 AM.

Well, Stephen Graham Jones is a master of the WTF ending. In some ways this works to his advantage, like when it highlights the confusion and mental instability of the narrator, or preys on the reader’s fear of the unknown. Subtle scares can be terrifying when done right, and when Jones gets it right, it works SO WELL, like with Second Chances where the final sentence of the story hits you like a punch in the gut. But Jones makes things too subtle you’re left scratching your head and wondering what you’re supposed to be scared of. It’s like when the creepy music starts playing in a film, you know you’re supposed to feel uneasy because something bad is about to happen, but then, when the final dissonant chord is struck, everything just sort of ends without the payoff of a monster jumping out or even a terrified scream to imply something horrible just happened. Which is, unfortunately, really not that scary. After the People Lights Have Gone Off (the short story, not the book), Uncle, Xebico and Brush Monster all have this problem. Did someone die? Was there a monster? Is the narrator hallucinating? Did anything bad even happen? Am I just not smart enough to get it? It’s especially frustrating when the rest of the story makes sense, like in Xebico, but then the ending just kind of goes off the rails.

A sad, melting snow man with ear muffs, a whale with a bowtie shooting rainbows out of its blowhole, and a rabbit with a flower in its mouth, wearing a top hat and sunglasses are floating in midair and surrounded by sparkles. Looking uncomfortable, I ask, “Ummmm, so what am I supposed to be scared of? Is it the rabbit?”

I’m pretty sure it’s the sketchy looking rabbit.

Of course, none of this makes Jones a bad writer. He’s actually incredibly talented, aside from the whole confusing ending thing which is probably due more to me being obtuse than a lack of skill on Jones’ part. Like King, Jones has a real flair for making the mundane fucking terrifying.  For example, The Black Sleeve of Destiny, which is about a Lovecraftian hoodie. That’s right, a hoodie. Well, that and some poor kid’s mild kleptomania spinning out of control until it becomes a full blown obsession, but mostly the evil hoodie that seems to act as a pocket dimension with a mind of its own. There’s also The Spider Box (such a creepy title) about a cardboard fruit box that resurrects the dead.  Somehow Jones managers to cover all the horror staples in his book (demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, killers, and zombies) while still making his stories seem fresh and unique. A great example of this is Welcome to the Reptile House, one of the most distinct and creative vampire stories I’ve ever read. In fact, I didn’t even know it was a vampire story when I started reading it, so, uh, sorry for the spoiler.

Septa Unella from Game of Thrones is ringing her bell and chanting “shame, shame, shame”. Annoyed, I snap “Oh my God, it was one spoiler!”

Septa Unella shows up any time someone reveals a spoiler. Or at least, she SHOULD.

But not all the stories in this collection are your traditional tales of horror, some could even be considered love stories. Albeit, really messed up, creepy love stories, but love stories nonetheless. One story is even called This is Love. Jones explores different kinds of relationships in his novel, from lovers and devoted spouses, to childhood crushes, to familial love between siblings, parents and children, and even extended family. Snow Monsters is a heartwarming tale about what a parent will sacrifice for their child, but with a supernatural twist. Doc’s Story, explores the bonds of a struggling family, and is one of the most human stories in the collection, ironic since it’s about werewolves.  In After the People Lights Have Gone Off (again, the short story, not the collection) and The Dead are Not we see examples of the complete devotion married couples have for each other, even when things get difficult and terrifying. Of course, there are also inversions, like Uncle, which is about a couple that has fallen out of love, and the husband’s feelings of guilt for not mourning his wife’s death.

Oh, and a little tip, before picking this book up I strongly recommend checking out Stephen King’s short story The Man in the Black Suit and H. F. Arnold’s The Night Wire (both of which you should read regardless because they’re awesome). Why? Well The Spindly Man is a horror story about a book group discussing King’s famous horror story (how’s that for Inception?), while Xebico is about adapting The Night Wire to the stage. And as cheesy as having a scary short story about another scary short story sounds, they’re both pretty awesome, yet another indicator of Jones’ talent.

Overall, After the People Lights Have Gone Off (this time I am referring to the book) is an amazing anthology by a talented author, as long as you’re okay with stream of consciousness writing and not always understanding what the hell you just read. Or maybe it’s just me, and the rest of you will have some deeper understanding of the stories. Jones’ work definitely makes me feel like I’m the only one at the party not getting the joke.

Tags: Adult, American Indian, Anthology, BIPOC, Blackfoot, Book Review, Disability, Highly Recommended, LGBTQIA, Own Voices, Plains Native Nations, Romance, vampire
Shutter by Courtney Alameda

Shutter by Courtney Alameda

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Square Fish Books

Genre: Monster, Ghosts/Haunting, Zombie, Vampires, Blood & Guts, Thriller, Horror, Romance

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: POC (Love interest is part Aboriginal Islander, author is Latina), Disability (PTSD)

Takes Place in: type here

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Violence, Gore, Child Death, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Child Abuse, Sexism, Sexual Harassment/Assault, Torture 

Blurb

Lock, stock, and lens, she’s in for one hell of a week.

Micheline Helsing is a tetrachromat-a girl who sees the auras of the undead in a prismatic spectrum. As one of the last descendants of the Van Helsing lineage, she has trained since childhood to destroy monsters both corporeal and spiritual: the corporeal undead go down by the bullet, the spiritual undead by the lens. With an analog SLR camera as her best weapon, Micheline exorcises ghosts by capturing their spiritual energy on film. She’s aided by her crew: Oliver, a techno-whiz and the boy who developed her camera’s technology; Jude, who can predict death; and Ryder, the boy Micheline has known and loved forever.


When a routine ghost hunt goes awry, Micheline and the boys are infected with a curse known as a soulchain. As the ghostly chains spread through their bodies, Micheline learns that if she doesn’t exorcise her entity in seven days or less, she and her friends will die. Now pursued as a renegade agent by her monster-hunting father, Leonard Helsing, she must track and destroy an entity more powerful than anything she’s faced before . . . or die trying.


Shutter by Courtney Alameda is a thrilling horror story laced with an irresistible romance.

As a 90’s kid, I grew up with some truly terrible action films. And I loved them. Mortal Kombat, Wild Wild West, and Total Recall are all proudly displayed on my DVD shelf. So I like to think I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to plots full of holes and cookie-cutter characters, as long as the story itself is fun and entertaining. Keeping that in mind, let’s dive into Shutter, the literary equivalent of a bad action film.

We’ll start with our four, action-cliché, main characters. We’ve got the leader of the good guys, complete with her obligatory tragic backstory, the tough guy who always has her back, the smart guy who’s good with computers but not so great at fighting, and the wise cracking jackass who we’re supposed to like but just comes off as sexist and irritating. They exist to spout “clever” quips at each other, provide exposition at awkward times, and act like bad asses.

Following a standard action movie formula, the hero decides to rush off on her own without backup, and gets suspended by the boss (who’s also her abusive dad). But they go after the bad guy anyway because screw the rules, they’re action heroes! Then there’s lots of cool action scenes, explosions, some TRULY creepy shit, and a love story that gets shoehorned in there.

Okay, so the writing is “meh”, the characters are kind of flat, and the story formulaic as hell, but was it at least exciting and entertaining?  Was their nail biting suspense and horror? I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I need to address some major issues I had with story, the first being its heroine, Micheline.Micheline is a tetrachromat, able to see the invisible “ghost light” given off by the undead. As a direct descendant of Abraham Van Helsing, (because of course she is) she is sworn to protect the world from monsters, and captures and exorcises ghosts on her camera, à la Fatal Frame. Now, I’m going to give the author major props for making the lead a woman, something that doesn’t happen often in the action genre (but is slowly becoming more common). So that’s great. What’s not so great is that Micheline has this really annoying habit of having to prove what a “Strong Female Character TM” she is by running head first into danger, then needing to be rescued by the guys. Apparently nothing says “bad ass” like poor decision making and being a damsel in distress.

Micheline, is wearing her tactical, Hellsing gear and has her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She’s leaping in the air, brandishing a gun in one hand, and a camera in the other while gleefully shouting “Leerrooooy Jenkins!!!!”

Great teamwork there.

I can understand why she might want to prove herself; Micheline is struggling with PTSD and an abusive father, so it would make sense if the story was about her difficulty returning to active duty while suffering from flashbacks. Overcoming something like that is no easy task. But her trauma and strained relationship with her father seem to be their own separate thing, with little to nothing to do with her foolhardy, reckless, and selfish behavior. At least Micheline doesn’t take her grief out on everyone else, like her jerk-ass dad, she just puts their lives in danger by keeping important information from them, making everything about her, and refusing to deal with her issues. So, basically a pretty awful leader. I also got this whole “I’m not like other girls, I’m a cool girl” vibe from Micheline. Throughout the book she kept putting down other women and/or viewing them as competition for her “boys”, which was just sexist and gross. Basically, what could have been a cool, strong, female action hero was ruined by internalized sexism, bad decisions, and needing men to save her all the freaking time.

Another huge problem with Shutter was the flow of the action scenes. There is SO MUCH exposition and info dumping, and it keeps interrupting the suspenseful parts of the story. I mean, it’s wonderful how much thought Alameda put into this world, and I was certainly interested in the science behind monster hunting, but I don’t want to read a full page about how a camera works right when Micheline is about to be killed by a ghost. It’d be like pausing the duel scene between Luke and Vader to give a five minute lecture on the technology behind lightsabers. It’s cool and all, but really not the right time, and completely destroys the tension.

Micheline is fighting a shadowy creature with a glowing blue mouth and eyes. In the first panel she’s attempting to take its photo. In the second, both she and the monster jump out of the way in surprise as the words “INFO DUMP” fall from the sky. They both stand there awkwardly as an extensive, verbose paragraph about trichromsticism scrolls by. The shadow monsters asks “So do we just wait, or what?”

Forget the incredibly dramatic fight scene, let’s learn about trichromsticism!

Okay, so now for the moment you’ve been waiting for, was it at least entertaining? Heck yeah it was! The overall story was great, suspenseful, and fun, with some truly terrifying scenes. By the time I got to the second half of the book, I couldn’t put it down! The monsters were incredibly creative and creepy, like something out of Silent Hill, and the horror scenes were spot on. Alameda does an excellent job of building suspense and creating a creepy atmosphere (minus the random info dumps that kill the mood). It’s worth pointing out that this is the author’s debut novel, so it’s understandable that the book has flaws. Even the great Terry Pratchett’s early work was, admittedly, not that great, and he’s one of my favorite authors! So Alameda definitely has time to hone her skills and improve on her characterization and exposition. She’s already great at world building, horror, and action scenes. And honestly, it’s nice to see a horror novel written by a Latina author. The genre is severely lacking in Latine/Latina writers, and the few I know of are mostly men.

Overall, Shutter is a fun, suspenseful read, even with its flaws. If I could just take out the annoying characters, and focus on the plot, the monsters, and the fight scenes, the book would be perfect, like a horror survival game. That’s actually not a bad idea, it could be a cross between Fatal Frame and Resident Evil, where you can just explore abandoned buildings and fight monsters instead of listening to pointless dialogue. At least in a video game I can skip random info dumps.

The Microsoft paperclip asks “It looks like you’re trying to play a video game, would you like me to annoy you the next hour while I explain how to use the controls?” Annoyed, I complain “Argh, just let me fight monsters already!” and skip the tutorial. 15 minutes later, I wonder to myself how the hell I’m supposed to play this game.

I just imagine all annoying video game tutorials as being done by either Navi or the Microsoft Paperclip.

I just imagine all annoying video game tutorials as being done by either Navi or the Microsoft Paperclip.

Tags: BIPOC, Blood & Guts, Book Review, Disability, Ghosts/Haunting, Indigenous Australian, Latine/Latino, Mental Illness, Monster, Not for Me, PTSD, Romance, Thriller, Young Adult, Zombies
The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike, translated by Deborah Boliver Boehm

The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike, translated by Deborah Boliver Boehm

Formats: Print

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press

Genre: Ghosts/Haunting, Thriller

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Japanese characters

Takes Place in: Japan

Content Warnings (Highlight to view): Animal Death, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Forced Captivity

Blurb

A terrifying tale of a young family who move into an apartment building next to a graveyard and the horrors that are unleashed upon them.

One of the most popular writers working in Japan today, Mariko Koike is a recognized master of detective fiction and horror writing. Known in particular for her hybrid works that blend these styles with elements of romance, The Graveyard Apartment is arguably Koike’s masterpiece. Originally published in Japan in 1986, Koike’s novel is the suspenseful tale of a young family that believes it has found the perfect home to grow in to, only to realize that the apartment’s idyllic setting harbors the specter of evil and that longer they stay, the more trapped they become.

This tale of a young married couple who are harboring a dark secret is packed with dread and terror, as they and their daughter move into a brand new apartment building built next to a graveyard. As strange and terrifying occurrences begin to pile up, people in the building begin to move out one by one, until the young family is left alone with someone… or something… lurking in the basement. The psychological horror builds moment after moment, scene after scene, culminating with a conclusion that will make you think twice before ever going into a basement again.

Next up for Asian and Pacific American heritage month, is a new translation of Mariko Koike’s popular 1986 horror novel, The Graveyard Apartment.The Graveyard Apartment had a great premise; a married couple and their young daughter move into a haunted apartment near a cemetery and creepy shit keeps happening, but they’re unwilling to move due to their financial situation, societal pressure to appear normal, and the husband’s deep denial that anything is wrong. The book explores their feelings of emptiness and isolation and their struggle with their fears, both mundane and supernatural. But what should have been amazing ended up being very, well, “meh”. So how exactly does one manage to fuck up what should have been a fool proof haunted house formula? 

To be completely fair, much of the awkward writing present in the English version could very well be due to translation problems. But unless the translator of The Graveyard Apartment pulled a 4KIDs Entertainment and just started making up random shit and cutting out half the story, there’s only so much you can blame on her. The problems with the book go far beyond a language barrier issue. The biggest setback is that half the story seems pointless (maybe the translator should have cut some of it out after all). Koike spends more time on random details, like what her main character, Misao, is wearing, than she does on the evil entity haunting the building. There’s even an entire chapter, later on in the book, dedicated to visiting a realtor’s office and looking at new apartments. Can you handle the terror as her husband, Teppei, walks their daughter to school? Shiver as the doomed couple look at rental listings within their budget!

A picture draw in the style of a vintage horror movie posters shows a Japanese woman with poofy, 80’s hair screaming in horror at a random assortment of leftovers (daikon radish, red bean paste, pickled umeboshi plums, lettuce, soy sauce, and mushrooms) in front of her. In creepy looking, dripping, front across the top it says “Witness the horror as Misao tries to make dinner with ‘The Random Leftovers!’

The story takes place in the 80’s so I tried to give her poofy 80’s hair. I was not successful.

And even when Koike does finally get to the creepy stuff, it’s a crapshoot whether or not it actually has anything do with the plot or just more random detailing. For example; early on in the book we discover Teppei’s first wife, Reiko, committed suicide because he was cheating on her with Misao. So you’d think that Reiko’s vengeful spirit would somehow be involved in the plot. Well, you’d be wrong. The suicide backstory serves no purpose other than highlighting what a remorseless dick Teppei is. We also learn that at one point there were plans to build an underground shopping center, but they were abandoned after the initial tunnel was built. So maybe the project disturbed the graves above and angered the spirits? Nope. The project was abandoned because people didn’t want the cemetery relocated, so the graves were pretty much left alone. Actually we never learn why the ghosts (or demons, or monsters, or whatever) are such huge assholes. Usually ghosts haunt the living because they’re pissed off about being murdered or moved, or having a Taco Bell built over their remains, but these entities just like to lock doors, mess with the elevators, and put handprints on the glass, because…. reasons. I dunno, maybe they just really hate whoever does the building maintenance, or they’re a bunch of drunk frat boys.

The comic shows the annoying ghost of a frat boy, sticking out his tongue and waking up another man by screaming “Woooo! Bro, let’s play some beer pong!” The ghost is muscular, holding a Solo cup, and is wearing a Polo shirt with a popped collar, a backwards baseball hat, and a Puka shell necklace. The man he has just woken up is shirtless, with two subcutaneous mastectomy scars on his chest. Irritated, he responds “Can’t you just rattle chains and make the lights flicker like a normal ghost?”

Not so much evil as incredibly irritating.

The story and characters are well written enough, it just isn’t scary. Well, except for the ending, where all the horror gets crammed into the last few chapters of the book. It’s like Koike suddenly went “Shit! I’ve got four chapters left, and the scariest things in the book so far are a creepy basement and being forced to into awkward social situations!” (Granted, awkward social situations are much scarier than any demonic entity). So then the ghosts (or demons, or whatever) go from mildly irritating to eldritch abominations with god damn superpowers and a lust for blood.Oh, and just as the story is starting to get scary and suspenseful? It finishes with a vague, open ending and we STILL don’t know what the fuck is wrong with the building! To top it off, the ending isn’t even part of the actual story, it’s a freaking epilogue! WHAT? There was all this slow buildup up for the most underwhelming payoff ever. Way to get my hopes up, Koike! Look, The Graveyard Apartment isn’t a bad book overall, which is why I didn’t knock it down to “not recommended”, it just doesn’t work as a haunted house story.

Tags: Adult, Asian, BIPOC, Book Review, Ghosts/Haunting, Japanese, Own Voices, Recommended, Thriller

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