Blurb:
Deep in the recesses of our minds are twisted realities that so closely mirror our own. In these pages, our nightmares are laid bare, made to manifest. There is no waking up; there is no going back once you fall into the tapestry of terrors that await. Are you ready? From courteous neighbors gone awry to the burning brightness of everlasting daylight comes Spectrum: An Autistic Horror Anthology reflective of the vast array of neurodivergent artists in our community and the things that keep them up in the night, the things they can’t look away from. Don’t Blink. |
Unfortunately, to review this, I do have to address some of
the drama surrounding it. Anyone in the horror book sphere has probably heard
it and it might turn some folks off this amazing anthology. However, you may
not have heard about how Third Estate Books addressed it, and you shouldn’t
pass on this book just because of a few bad apples.
One of the anthology’s original authors, Zach Rosenberg, was
revealed to have a history of harassing and bullying women and femme
identifying people. Writer and editor Evelyn Freeling details the harassment
she received from Zach Rosenberg here.
After Rosenberg posted a non-apology the next day Mattie Lewis shared her own negative
experience with the author. Shortly afterward it was revealed that one of
the editors of the anthology, Freydis Moon, had been impersonating a Latinx
person to sell their books and bullying others online. You can find details of
the Freydis Moon controversy here.
Third Estate Books released statements that both Moon and
Rosenberg
had been removed from Spectrum and that they would have no place on any
other projects moving forward. Therefore, I would still recommend this book, as
the publisher has taken steps to ensure the safety of everyone involved and
removed anyone problematic. Now, on to the review!
I was happy to see that many of the authors and characters
in the book were trans, agender, or non-binary (not surprising since trans and
gender diverse folks are up to six
times more likely to be autistic). There was also some BIPOC representation
with Asian, Latinx, and Afro-Indigenous authors, though I would have liked to
have seen more. The stories were a very interesting mix. Some were
straightforward and followed a classic story structure, while others felt more
like stream of consciousness writing and focused more on the poetic words used than forming a coherent
plot (Survive Lot 666, Neighborly, and Discourses of the Seven Headed
Monkey come to mind). But both styles worked well. A few of my favorites
were Freedom was a Flaying by Onyx Osiris, Curse the Darkness by Die
Booth, and The Sun Approaches Every Summer by Akis Linardos. The first
of these stories was a violent revenge story where the bullies get violently
massacred by the Aztec flayed god, Xipe Totec. I love revenge
stories, and this one was particularly satisfying and twisted with a nice nod
to the author’s heritage. Booth’s story was more of a “be careful what you wish
for” tale, a genre of story I also greatly enjoy. The Sun Approaches Every
Summer was particularly unique where a man with magical abilities slowly
watches the town he lives in die because the sun is getting too close. As the
townspeople fear witches, he’s forced to mask,
hiding both his autism and his magical abilities. It reminded me of the
Twilight episode The Midnight Sun, except in this story the protagonist
is the only one immune to the heat due to his magic and is eventually the only
one left alive.
The last story in the anthology, Different by Ashley
Lezak, is one of only two in which autism is central to the story. In it, a
little autistic girl named Abigail is “cured” by her parents who want a
“normal” child. One of ASAN’s (the
Autistic Self Advocacy Network) core beliefs is that “autism
cannot and should not be cured.” One thing many allistic and non-disabled
people don’t seem to grasp is that Autism is part of who a person is and
eliminating that would fundamentally change who they are. As Andrew Pulrang explained in an
article for Forbes entitled What
Do Disabled People Mean When We Say We Don’t Want A Cure? ,"Life
without disabilities may at times have its attractions. It’s something that can
be interesting, even fun to speculate about. But since it would often
fundamentally change who we are, it’s not always a 100% attractive
prospect." The desire to “cure” autism is similar to the appeal of gay
conversion therapy. Parents who can’t love their children as they are try to
change them to be more “normal,” someone they can accept. This is what makes
Lezak’s short story so frightening: the idea that not only can parents not love
and accept their child as they are, but that they would fundamentally change
her as a person without her consent. And while the procedure Ashley undergoes
is fictional, it’s not too far removed from the lobotomies
performed on unwilling patients until the 1970s to change their personalities
and even sexual
orientation.
The other one is Safe Food by Xochilt Avila, in which
a teen named Cedar struggles with their avoidant
and restrictive food intake disorder (unfortunately many autistic
people also have eating disorders) and an abusive father. What their father
doesn’t understand is that it’s not that Cedar doesn’t want to eat, it’s that
they have such severe sensory issues around taste there are only certain foods
they can palate, none of which their father ever gives them. This story is
another example of how badly parents can treat their autistic children
(although in Cedar’s case their dad probably would have been abusive even if
they were neurotypical). Unfortunately, it isn’t uncommon for autistic
individuals to be abused, and their abuse is often blamed on their “challenging
behaviors” rather than society’s ableism. Often the media will portray
the abuser with sympathy as they were “burdened” with having an autistic
child.
But those were the only two stories that felt like they made autism and autistic issues major plot points. The others chose to focus more on undead creatures, migraines, curses, abandoned buildings with dead whales, monkey gods, music, haunted houses and a head in a box. And honestly, I like that. While autism is part of someone’s identity, it’s only one part and Spectrum allows its authors to be their full selves rather than just focusing on their autism. I also really enjoyed seeing how differently autism manifested in each of the fictional characters, underlying how autism really is a broad spectrum. Some had severe sensory issues requiring soft clothing and ear protectors, others didn’t. Some struggled socially, others did not. Some characters had trouble with eye contact while others didn’t. Some were single, while others in committed relationships (there seems to be a myth that autistic people don’t date or have sex, which is patently untrue). There was no “one size fits all.” Autism is just one aspect of their personalities instead of all it, like is often the case when neurodiverse characters are written by neurotypicals. But their autism also wasn’t downplayed like it didn’t matter at all. They got to be multidimensional people.
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