Malicia by Steven dos Santos

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Page Street Publishing

Genre: Blood & Guts, Demon, Monster, Mystery, Myth and Folklore, Occult

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Gay and bisexual man characters, Dominican Americans, character with anxiety disorder

Takes Place in: The Dominican Republic

Content Warnings: Ableism, Child Death, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Medical Torture/Abuse, Mental Illness, Suicide, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence, Vomit (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

Four friends, three days, two lovers, and one very haunted theme park. On a stormy Halloween weekend, Ray enlists his best friends Joaquin, Sofia, and Isabella to help him make a documentary of Malicia, the abandoned theme park off the coast of the Dominican Republic where his mother and brother died in a mass killing thirteen years ago. But what should be an easy weekend trip quickly turns into something darker because all four friends have come to Malicia for their own Ray has come to Malicia to find out the truth of the massacre that destroyed his family. Isabella has come to make art out of Ray’s tragedy for her own personal gain. Sofia has come to support her friends in one last adventure before she goes to med school. Joaquin already knows the truth of the Malicia Massacre and he has come to betray his crush Ray to the evil that made the park possible. With an impending hurricane and horrors around every corner, they all struggle to face the deadly storm and their own inner demons. But the deadliest evil of all is the ancient malignant presence on the island.

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.

The story is told through alternating first-person perspectives between the four main characters; Raymundo, Joaquin, Sofia, and Isabella. The friends are traveling to spend Halloween weekend in Raymundo’s family’s abandoned, horror-themed amusement park, Malicia. The park was closed after a mysterious mass murder took place, claiming the lives of Raymundo’s mother and brother. The island on which Malicia was built is only accessible by boat, and there’s a massive hurricane headed right toward them, so good luck trying to escape if anything goes wrong. You may question the teens’ decision to go to what is very obviously a cursed murder island during a hurricane, but each of the four have their own reason for being there. Raymundo wants to try and summon his brother’s spirit, Isabella wants to film a documentary about the island, and Joaquin wants to sacrifice Raymundo because the cult he belongs to told him to. (Don’t worry, that’s revealed early in the story, so it’s hardly a spoiler.) Sofia is  there because her friends are, and because she very firmly doesn’t believe in the supernatural or scare easily.

I think the characters were somewhat underdeveloped and one-note, and the exposition felt awkward at times. But honestly, the characters were just an excuse to explore the super cool setting. I mean, an abandoned, horror-themed, cursed, amusement park? Could there be a more perfect location for a horror story? And Santos clearly put a lot of thought into describing Malicia in loving detail. There’s an entire map in the beginning of the book (and I’m a sucker for maps) showing the different areas of the park, like Serial Springs, Paranormal Place, and Creature Canyon. I also liked the ride descriptions, which all sounded like tons of fun.

Malicia strongly reminded meof the island setting in Umineko When They Cry, where the characters are trapped by a typhoon on a remote island that is slowly overtaken by the supernatural (and everyone there dies horrible deaths). As both stories progress, the scares move from strange shadows and murders that could’ve been committed by a human to horror that’s clearly the work of demonic forces.

I enjoyed how the author not only used Spanish frequently throughout the book (which I appreciate that the publisher did not italicize) but words and phrases specific to the Dominican. The friends name their little group the Quisqueya Club, a word of Taíno origin that refers to the inhabitants of Hispaniola. Raymundo and Joaquin refer to each other as pana and tiguere, the friends informally greet each other with “Qué lo que” (what’s up?), Raymundo calls his parents Mai and Pai, and he admits to himself that he’s a Jablador (liar). Many of the monsters are also specific to the Dominican like Los Biembiens and La Jupia. The four friends also prepare Dominican food like mangú and yaniqueques.

Malicia an incrediblya spooky, gory, fun read. Even though it’s a 300+ page book, it felt like a quick read because the chapters are short and the suspense was able to grab my attention, although, admittedly, the story did drag a bit in the middle. The shifting viewpoints throughout the book helped build the suspense as the characters all started to become suspicious of each other. Because it was written for teens, it felt like a PG-13 horror movie with R-rated violence, which, of course, you can get away with in a book. The descriptions of mutilated bodies and rotting flesh are very graphic so this one is definitely not for the squeamish horror fan.

It's Only a Game by Kelsea Yu

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Bloomsbury YA

Genre: Mystery

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Chinese American main character and Taiwanese Chinese author, Black major character, Indian American major character, transgender major character

Takes Place in: Seattle, Washington

Content Warnings: Bullying, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Mental Illness, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Stalking, Suicide, Transphobia, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Victim Blaming (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

In this twisty, fast-paced YA thriller, a dangerous game becomes all too real when Marina and her friends are framed for murder. When Marina Chan ran from her old life, she brought nothing with her-not even her real name. Now she lives in fear of her past being discovered. But when her online gaming team is offered a tour of their favorite game company, Marina can't resist accepting, even though she knows it might put her fake identity at risk. Then the creator of the game is murdered during their tour. Whoever killed him plans to frame Marina and her friends for the murder unless they win four rounds of a dangerous game. A game that requires them to lie, trespass, and steal. A game that could destroy everything Marina's worked so hard to build…. A game that she might not survive.

It’s Only a Game is a story about parental abuse, found family, and video games, all wrapped up in a murder mystery.

The beginning of the book really grabs the reader and makes it clear this is going to be a gripping narrative. At the start, all we know about main character Marina Chan is that she’s a runaway teen living illegally in a Chinese restaurant/game café, and that she must hide her identity from everyone. That means no school, no ID or paper trail, and no letting anyone get too close. The only relationships Marina has are with the owners of Bette’s Battles and Bao, who kindly allow her to live there, and her three online friends: RockSplice (Rock), Dreadnaughty (Dread), and Syldara (Syl). Marina has a MASSIVE crush on Syl. The four of them met through a PC game called Darkitect, a combination MMORPG (short for massively multiplayer online role-playing game) and level designer where Marina plays under the alias Nightmar3 (Night for short).  Their favorite level designer is a mysterious programmer named Cíxĭ (pronounced like tsuh-SHEE), who took her name from an Empress Dowager who ruled China during the late Qing dynasty. I like that Cíxĭ’s name has the accents when Marina says it, indicating that she uses the correct Mandarin inflections, as compared to her non-Chinese friends who pronounce it as Cixi (without the accents).

After beating an especially challenging level she designed, the four gamers score exclusive invites to one of Cíxĭ’s new levels. As thrilled as Marina is at the prospect of playing a new level designed by the elusive programmer, she’s even more excited knowing that tomorrow she’ll be meeting her online friends in real life for the first time on top of getting a tour of getting a tour of Apocalypta Games (the creators of Darkitect). Things couldn’t be better.  Meeting her friends for the first time goes exceptionally well, and Rock, Dread, and Syl immediately accept Marina as one of their own.

 Rock is a slender Indian American guy whose parents run security for Apocalypta Games. Dread is a tall, white guy, and the oldest, who interns at Apocalypta. Finally there’s Dread’s cousin, Syl, a gorgeous and glamorous Black girl who’s the girly-girl to Marina’s tomboy. I love that Syl’s character enjoys girly things, like makeup, dresses, heels, and stylish nails, while still being very into video games. While the rise in popularity of Twitch has shown that women who play video games are a diverse group, I remember when feminine gamers were accused of only doing it for male attention, and “real gamer girls” were tomboys. While this stereotype has somewhat changed over the years, women gamers are still subject to a great deal of harassment. But the guys in Marina’s gaming group are completely supportive of the two girls and the friends manage to avoid most of the toxicity in the gaming world.

Marina and her crush, Syl

The tour is great, with the owner of the company, Ethan Wainwright himself, showing the group around. He even invites Marina to contribute her art to Apocalypta’s quarterly magazine, and offers her and her friends exhibitor badges for PAX West. Originally known as Penny Arcade Expo, PAX West, along with the other PAX conventions, is one of the largest gaming conventions in the US, so this is a HUGE deal. Marina can barely contain her excitement and is having the best day of her life, that is, until she and her friends find the body. What follows is a page-turning murder mystery that tests the limits of Marina’s newfound friendships.

Marina’s mysterious past is slowly revealed over the course of the book. She lived with her overprotective mother, but never knew her father (her mother says he was a “bad man”). We know she must hide who she is, but we’re not sure why. We also discover that Marina suffered from emotional abuse. Trauma from her past has made her private and slow to trust, as her mother made sure Marina was completely dependent on her. The Confucian concept of filial piety (Xiao) an important aspect of Chinese culture, seems to play a role in Marina’s abuse. Chinese American reddit user CauliflowerOk7056 argues in his college essay entitled “Beat Him till the Blood Flows”: How Confucianism and Traditional East Asian Culture Can Enable Child Abuse that, in addition to poverty, a major contributor to  Chinse and Chinse American child abuse is filial piety. In it he states “Sadly, as well-intentioned as Confucius’ ideal may have been, filial piety has its issues that can be exploited to justify child abuse. For one thing, its undue emphasis on strict obedience from children sets a precedent that can provide some leeway for abusive parents.”

However, he is quick to explain that Confucianism in and of itself does not encourage abuse, and even suggest that children hold their parents responsible. Psychotherapist Sam Louie explains "As [Asian American] clients talk about the emotional and/or physical abuse, they will often defend their parents saying something to the effect of, 'They did the best they could,' or 'I knew they still loved me.' It isn't until more trust is developed that I can confront their inability to see how abuse can and often does happen within 'loving' households and relationships in general." One of the reasons it takes so long for Marina to recognize her mother’s abuse is because her mother constantly tells her how much she loves her. When Marina asks to go over to a friends’ house, her mother refuses explaining she “loves [Marina] too much” to let her go. Additionally she guilts Marina for wanting friends and successfully isolates her (another hallmark of abuse), asking “Am I not enough for you? Am I so bad that you have to get away from me?”

Asian Americans, especially Asian American immigrants like Marina’s mother, also underutilize mental health services creating a “major mental health disparity” according to entitled Use of Specialty Mental Health Services by Asian Americans With Psychiatric Disorders. While it’s certainly not an excuse, and plenty of mentally ill individuals still make great parents, her mother’s mental health may have also played a role in the way she treated Marina. It's important to note that, while Marina’s abuse may have cultural elements to it, child abuse is not unique to any one race or culture, and in fact a research study entitled Child Maltreatment Among Asian Americans: Characteristics and Explanatory Framework points out that "The reported rate of child maltreatment among Asian Americans is disproportionately low” compared to other racial and ethnic groups (though this may be partially due to under reporting). When calculating the risks of child abuse, poverty and inequality are leading factors, along with intergenerational trauma, stress, isolation, and a lack of a support system.

Yu puts a lot of emphasis on the importance of building supportive relationships, especially when you don’t have family to rely on. I appreciate that Yu believes that online friendships can be just as important as face-to-face ones. As a millennial, I grew up in the early days of the internet when adults firmly believed everyone online was a predator and forming online friendships was new territory. Yet, despite the warnings from overprotective adults, I still formed meaningful relationships with people I met online.

I met one of my best friends on LiveJournal. I would have never known my wife if she hadn’t joined our friend’s group through Meetup. For a kid who grew up in a small town who had trouble finding others my age with the same niche interests as me, the internet gave me a way to feel less alone, just like it did for Marina. These days 57% of teenagers meet a new friend online, and those relationships can be just as meaningful as face-to-face ones.

While you don’t have to be a gamer to enjoy It’s Only a Game it definitely helps since non-gamers are unlikely to recognize some of the references and terminology, which Yu doesn’t bother to explain or elaborate on (I had to look up what AoE stands for). Most of the action takes place within the world of Darkitect so readers who have never felt the excitement and suspense of playing a video game with fighting elements may not get as much out of those scenes. On the plus side, all the gaming elements are likely to appeal to reluctant readers who prefer World of Warcraft over books.

Splinter by Jasper Hyde

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: The Magnificent Engine

Genre: Folk Horror, Killer/Slasher, Occult, Myth and Folklore, Romance

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black main character and author, Filipino British main character, asexual (demisexual) main character and author, bisexual main character, main character with ADHD, Trans masc/Non-binary author

Takes Place in: Sleepy Hollow, NY

Content Warnings: Ableism, Bullying, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Medical Procedures, Mental Illness, Police Harassment, Racism, Torture (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

In a small town hidden behind the hills of New York, things are far from ordinary. As Sleepy Hollow’s youngest Medical Examiner, the pressure intensifies for Dr. Drusilla Van Tassel when the headless bodies of her sister Katrina’s friends start surfacing. Meanwhile, Drusilla’s ex-lover Ichabod Crane returns to town, dredging up feelings better left buried. Things take a turn for the worst when Drusilla comes face-to-face with the Headless Horseman, who is back to settle old scores – and she and her sister are the perfect targets. Drusilla can repel the horseman with an unknown power, but her sister isn’t so lucky, and she goes missing. However, when Drusilla discovers Ichabod is a monster hunter, she has no other choice but to turn to him for help. Even if that means working with a man she feels an inexplicable attraction to. Will they find Katrina and banish the headless horseman once and for all?

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.

If you decide to read Splinter, keep in mind that this story comes from a small, indie publisher and didn’t benefit from a professional editor. There are quite a few grammar errors sprinkled throughout. I didn’t find them particularly distracting, and the quality of the writing was still good, but I know this will bother some readers. I would encourage them to give Splinter a chance anyway, as it really is an enjoyable story and I hope my review will encourage you to check it out.

Dr. Drusilla Van Tassel is our main character, and I kind of love her. She’s an introverted, bisexual, horror fan who just wants to do her job as a medical examiner, and I can relate to that. Her sister Katrina, on the other hand, is outgoing, popular, and prefers her rich, white friends over her own sister. But Drusilla is just as hostile to Katrina, so it’s not your stereotypical mean girl situation. I found it interesting how Drusilla can relax and use AAVE in front of her Black assistant (and former lover) Kyndall, but codeswitches with Katrina like she does around white people. It underlines how “other” Katrina is from her and how uncomfortable Drusilla feels in her own sister’s presence. Although, she does feel guilty for not doing more to support Katrina when her husband Brom died under mysterious circumstances.

One night Drusilla is called in to deal with a murder, and the victim is no other than Denis Carter, Katrina’s close friend. Poor Drusilla just can’t catch a break! At the crime scene, we see firsthand the racism and sexism Drusilla faces on a regular basis from the law enforcement officials she has to work alongside when one rookie cop tries to stop her from entering the crime scene. Despite having graduated Magna Cum Laude from Cornell she still gets treated as a “Black girl playing dress up.”

Then Katrina’s former friend and lover, Ichabod Crane (who I like to imagine looks like Piolo Pascual), shows up out of the blue and starts pestering her for details of the strange murder. Because they ended things badly, she isn’t exactly thrilled to see him. But when another murder takes place, the two are forced to set aside their differences and work together. What follows is a fun, supernatural mystery with a great sex scene. This was the first time in a story I’ve seen someone on the asexual spectrum have sex. Not only are asexual character underrepresented in fiction, but they’re often stereotyped as always being completely sex adverse, which just isn’t true, especially in the case of people who are demisexual like this particular character.

I really appreciate that Hyde not only put the effort into getting Filipino sensitivity readers, but also included their email in the beginning of the story for anyone to reach out to them if they made any mistakes in representation. I wish more authors would do that!

If you were a fan of the Fox tv series Sleepy Hollow that aired from 2013-2017, but hated the way they treated Nicole Beharie and her character, this book is for you. It feels like a remedy to the show without being a fix-it fanfiction. Instead, Splinter gets to be its own thing. It’s a quick, compelling read that sucks you in, helped in no small part by its compelling and complex characters.

The White Guy Dies First: 13 Scary Stories of Fear and Power edited by Terry J. Benton-Walker

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Tor Teen

Genre: Apocalypse/Disaster, Dark Fantasy, Eco Horror, Killer/Slasher, Monster, Mystery, Myth and Folklore, Romance, 

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Black characters and authors, characters of Chinese descent and Chinese New Zealander author, Indigenous characters and author (Seminole), Korean American characters and author, Bisexual characters, Queer women characters, Non-binary character and authors, Ace Spectrum author, MENA character, Bangladeshi-Irish author, Iranian-American author, Latinx characters and author

Content Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Amputation, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Mental Illness, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence, Vomit (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

13 SCARY STORIES. 13 AUTHORS OF COLOR. 13 TIMES WE SURVIVED THE FIRST KILL. The White Guy Dies First includes thirteen scary stories by all-star contributors and this time, the white guy dies first. Killer clowns, a hungry hedge maze, and rich kids who got bored. Friendly cannibals, impossible slashers, and the dead who don’t stay dead.... A museum curator who despises “diasporic inaccuracies.” A sweet girl and her diary of happy thoughts. An old house that just wants friends forever.... These stories are filled with ancient terrors and modern villains, but go ahead, go into the basement, step onto the old plantation, and open the magician’s mystery box because this time, the white guy dies first.

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.

This is a book that is going to make racists people mad, and I’m here for it. Consider yourself forewarned: if you’re white, this book is not written for you and you’re going to need a thick skin to read it. White people are so used to having positive representation in media that a book where white people make everything worse and always end up dead is going to rub the more sensitive white folks the wrong way, even those who might consider themselves allies. But for the rest of us? It’s awesome and a much-needed subversion of the “Black Guy Dies First” trope. Now, just because the white guy dies first in these stories does not make the BIPOC immune from horrific deaths. Hedge and The Protégé both have Black teens who meet violent ends. A Native person in Best Served Cold is tortured. They’re just not the first to die and get to be main characters.

Many (but not all) of the stories focus on the racism characters face and how often bad things happen to BIPOC people because of the actions of white people. Farz-joon from Break Through Our Skin by Naseem Jamnia is a non-binary, Iranian high school student who desperately wants a Smithosian internship. In order to secure one, they agree to volunteer at the University of Chicago’s Oriental Institute (thankfully, the problematic name was changed to the Institute for the Study of Ancient Culture in 2023) working under a condescending, racist, and transphobic old white professor named Dr. Hudson who thinks he knows more about Iran than Farz does because he’s studied it, speaks Farsi, and actually visited Iran, which Farz has not. He also objects to the Institute’s name change because the original name has “history” and “meaning.” Farz tolerates his boorish behavior so they can fulfill their dream of becoming an archeologist and challenge the idea that gender can be determined from a skeleton alone, but of course Dr. Hudson criticizes their “modern” ideas about gender stating “political correctness has no place in ancient history”, despite historical evidence of gender non-conforming people existing in ancient Iran and bioarchaeologist's more recent views on sex and gender. Unsurprisingly, it turns out he only hired Farz to give the exhibits a “layer of authenticity” and he’s willing to jeopardize Farz’s future by withholding his recommendation.

Wasps by Mark Oshiro focuses on how gentrification hurts immigrant communities, while Hedge by Kalynn Brown has a topiary garden created by wealthy whites in the 1970s where anyone who enters winds up dead, including the main character’s father. In Grave Grove by Alexis Henderson, a Black teen named Rumi befriends a white Northerner named Kaitlin and she helps adjust to life in the Southern US. The two even start a podcast together entitled Girls and Ghosts. Their newest episode is about Kyle Adams, a racist who went missing in the eighties after chasing a Black teen, William Jones, into an abandoned plantation. Unfortunately, we quickly learn that Kaitlin is not a good friend to Rumi. She ignores her at school in favor of hanging out with white girls, makes Rumi do all the grunt work for their podcast, and is actually pretty racist for someone who probably considers themselves liberal. She excuses Kyle’s racism because it happened in the past (the 1980s) and “everyone was racist back then.” She thinks William is a “drug dealer” who belongs in prison because he was caught with marijuana, despite smoking weed herself. She views Kyle as the victim, not William. She doesn’t want to talk about the racist history of the plantation or consider the slaves who died there, just the missing white boy. She even mentions her sister’s best friend got married at the plantation, a favorite location for Southern brides (gross). Side note, but I loved that Kaitlin believed in the supernatural while Rumi was the skeptic, since BIPOC are so often cast as superstitious and foolish compared to logical white people. I’m a skeptic myself so it was nice to see a character like me in both Grave Grove and Hell is Other Demons, where the Black main character is an atheist.

Best Served Cold by H. E. Edgmon and The Protégé by Lamar Giles both have the BIPOC main characters get into trouble specifically because they choose to trust a white person. In the former, our protagonist, EJ, makes the mistake of accepting a white man who befriended their brother. EJ struggled with internalized racism throughout their childhood, doing things like using cheap, unsafe contacts from the mall to change their eye color from brown to green. Kai, their brother, tells EJ that those are their ancestor’s eyes, and that their appearance connects them to their ancestry and they should be proud of them. Kai works to reclaim a past that was stolen by colonization (like learning traditional farming and hunting), and teaches EJ about ancestral trauma. EJ realizes the reason they feel angry and frustrated is because they are “playing a game whose rules have never been designed for me to win.” Their mother claims to be white because she passes, even though her grandfather was sent to a residential school in Oklahoma. She denies her heritage. EJ and Kai’s parents grew up together on a reservation in Florida, but moved to Chicago as adults. They told their children they’d left the Rez to give them a better life. Kai brings his white friend (possibly boyfriend) Isaac, who has intense green eyes, to a Pow Wow where the other Natives give him side eye. Clearly, they see something Kai doesn’t (there are other white people there but they don’t face the same level of scrutiny). One of the community leaders talks about MMIWC (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Children) which serves as foreshadowing. It’s implied that the antagonist in the story is a certain evil spirit from Algonquian mythology (one who’s associated with winter and cannibalism). Edgmon is Seminole, not one of the Algonquian tribes, but he writes with respect, never breaking the taboo of using the spirits name which is said to summon it. This particular creature is also a perfect representation of colonialism with its insatiable hunger and destructive nature.  Kai and EJ do everything they can to fight colonialism but still fall victim to the evil spirit.

The Protégé by Lamar Giles, like Best Served Cold, is a particularly tragic story with the main character, Troy’s, life ruined by his best friend, in this case an older, white gentleman named Jack Meridian. Jack is a retired magician who’s been mentoring Troy in the art of card tricks and illusions, and one of the young teen’s only friends. Troy so admires the older man that he immediately agrees to do him a favor, accepting a package while Jack runs errands downtown. Simple enough, right? While Troy’s older brother Darius is having a party with his friends, Troy sees that the news is reporting a mass killing at the mall where Jack was heading. He tries to contact his magician mentor but the person who killed him answers the phone and threatens Troy if he doesn’t give them the package he received. The killer is revealed to be Danford Dread, a magician who “perverts” the art and performs dark and gory magic that “plays to the worst in people.” And now he’s after Troy and his brother. Even though the white guy in this story is a “good guy” he still ruins a Black boy’s life by bringing him into his world and putting him directly into danger.

In Hell is Other Demons by Karen Strong, the main character is killed (she spends most of the story as a ghost) because her crush’s white boyfriend starts meddling with the supernatural and summons a demon. The other stories of dating a white boy don’t end with dead young women, but they do highlight the perils of interracial dating, namely that white men often fetishize non-white women. I mean, just look how BIPOC women have their own categories on porn sites (gross). Obviously not all mixed-race relationships are problematic; my parents are a mixed-race couple, my sister has an amazing Chilean fiancé (who is himself biracial), and I’m friends with happily married couples in mixed relationships. Unfortunately, there are always bad apples.

In both the Golden Dragon by Kendare Blake and Docile Girls by Chloe Gong, Korean-American Sophie and Chinese-I-think-American-but-possibly-New-Zealander Adelaid are dumped by their white boyfriends (and subsequently lose all the white people they thought were their friends) who fetishized them but don’t view them as committed relationship material. As Sophie’s sister puts it, they’re an exotic bang to mark off their “international bang bingo card.” Even after she gets dumped, Adelaid’s ex sees her as too weak and docile to be the killer who’s been stalking the teens, an assumption that proves fatal for him. This is unfortunately common, as all the East Asian-American women I know I can attest to. When they’re sexually harassed, it almost always has racist undertones. They’ve been propositioned by white men looking for “submissive waifus,” had “me so horny” shouted at them, asked if they have sideways vaginas, or “complimented” on their “exotic” beauty. White men have long fetishized East Asian women, with examples dating as far back as 1898 with the book Madame Butterfly. A Columbia University study from 2007 showed that in online dating, White men seemed to have a strong preference for Asian women when it came to hookups, but when they wanted a committed relationship, they preferred white women. Meanwhile, Black women, especially those with dark skin, are considered less desirable than women of other races.

In All Eyes on Me by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé main character Helen deals with a white boyfriend, Asher, who is constantly committing microaggressions. He mocks her kinky hair, and implies she can’t be an actress because she’s Black and not a “bombshell.”  Yet Helen still feels guilty about wanting to break up with Asher because everyone else considers him the perfect, all-American boy. And as a Black girl she’s supposed to be grateful that a white boy wants her, even though being tied down to him and trapped in their small town forever sounds like a nightmare. Fortunately for all three girls, they end their stories without being tied down by their racist exes.

Not all the stories in the collection are focused on race and racism, however. The Road to Hell by Terry Benton-Walker has a very original set up, exploring an abusive relationship between a haunted house and a family living it with the house as the abuser. Everything’s Coming Up Roses by Tiffany D. Jackson is about a mentally unwell girl named Leesa who is obsessed with gardening and documents her daily life in her journal. Leesa is an unreliable narrator and the true horror is slowly revealed over the course of the story. Like most anthologies, the quality of the stories varies, but none that I would have rated below three out of five stars. Some were good, others, like Everything’s Coming Up Roses, Gray Grove, and Best Served Cold, were great. It’s also worth noting that many of the stories are VERY gory, which may be too much for younger teens who aren’t big horror fans. Of course, since most horror fans were reading Stephen King when they were eight, I don’t foresee this being an issue for anyone who decides to read this book.

Another Elizabeth by Elle Mitchell

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Little Key Press

Genre: Killer/Slasher

Audience: Adult/Mature

Takes Place in: Oregon, USA

Diversity: Main character and authors with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), bisexual main character

Content Warnings: Ableism, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Body Shaming, Imagined Cannibalism, Imagined Child Abuse, Imagined Child Death, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Mental Illness, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Police Harassment, Self-Harm, Slurs, Sexism, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

Another Elizabeth is a gripping literary psychological crip horror novel that readers will sink their teeth into. Fans of dark humor and challenging fiction will be thrilled to delve into the mind of a deeply flawed disabled woman with a desire to kill. Elizabeth’s life is taking a turn. She has three jobs, a boyfriend that loves her too much, and a recent diagnosis of Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. She’s coming apart at the seams. Now all she cares about is keeping her promise to her younger self before her body fails her—kill without getting caught. Will she physically be able to satisfy her urge while maintaining her carefully built façade of normalcy? And if so, will she be able to stop with just one victim?

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.

Inspiration porn is a real problem when it comes depicting people with disabilities. The term was originally coined by disability activist and comedian Stella Young. As Young puts it in her 2014 TED talk in Sydney, “We’re not real people. We are there to inspire.” She explains that we have been sold the lie that disability is a bad thing, and therefore living with a disability makes you exceptional. One of the reasons I love Another Elizabeth is because I thought of inspiration porn while I was reading it and what the reactions of able-bodied people might be. Elizabeth has Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS), which, if you’re not familiar, is a genetic condition that causes connective tissue to weaken resulting in hypermobility in the joints and chronic pain. She works at a grocery store called Juno Foods with her boyfriend, teaches ESL classes, and kills people who piss her off.  That’s right, Elizabeth “overcomes” her invisible disability despite struggling with pain and weakness to become a serial killer! How inspirational!

All joking aside, I loved reading a book where the main character has  disability, written by someone with a disability (and not some well-meaning ally) that isn’t meant to inspire non-disabled people or demonize people with disabilities. Elizabeth is a great character. She shows hints of being a sociopath, is an expert manipulator, and often fantasizes about hurting others. When her doctor suggests she start using a cane, Elizabeth immediately wonders if she’ll use it for anything other than bashing people’s brains in. Even innocent things bring out the darkness in Elizabeth. When she sees babies, she imagines how easy it would be to break their fingers, and when she makes candy, she fantasizes about putting poison in it.

Yet she still seems to care about her friend, her ESL students, and her himbo boyfriend on some level, so she’s not completely heartless. Or at least Elizabeth admits she wouldn’t murder any of them. Awwwwww. In fact, she only kills people who she believes deserve it, like an ableist woman who abandoned her family after her husband became paralyzed, an obnoxious coworker, and maybe the odd pedestrian here and there. The fact that she happens to like their teeth is just a bonus. In her free time Elizabeth watches forensics shows and reads true crime novels for inspiration. This means she is meticulous about covering her tracks. I found myself greatly appreciating Elizabeth’s hyper-competence when it came to crime, carefully planning each murder down to the very last detail. Elizabeth is also someone who is usually good at whatever she tries, despite putting little effort into it, and this seems to apply to being a serial killer. Because she can’t physically overpower her victims, Elizabeth gets very creative finding ways to make her murders more accessible.

Villains with disabilities in fiction are often portrayed in a problematic way, at least when written by the non-disabled. They are the monstrous “other,” whose moral corruption manifests physically as disability. Jan Grue, is a Norwegian academic, author and actor (best known for role as Ivar Salvesen in Occupied) who uses a wheelchair. In his Guardian article The Disabled Villain: Why Sensitivity Reading Can’t Kill Off This Ugly Trope Grue writes "This particular trope, wherein a character’s moral and physiological natures mirror each other, is as universal as it is ancient. It is reflected in the philosophy of Plato, in commonplace phrases like ‘a healthy mind in a healthy body,’ and in the foundational texts of the cultural canon. In Buddhist tradition, too, disability has been construed as an impediment to understanding and enlightenment – and even, for some, as a punishment for actions in a past life."

The Take’s video Why the "Disabled Villain" Trope is So Offensive, explains that disability is "used as a metaphor for villainy or moral failing.” In an interview with Den of Geek after the release of Skyfall, producer Michael G. Wilson explains, "It’s very much a Fleming device that he uses throughout the stories – the idea that physical deformity and personality deformity go hand in hand in some of these villains. Sometimes it’s a motivating factor in their life, and what makes them the way they are." In other words, those with disabilities are assumed to despise their condition because being disabled is undesirable, and they seek to harm the able bodied. Unfortunately, this metaphor can cause real-life harm, as it reinforces the idea that having a disability is “bad” and difference is “scary.” Horror is especially notorious for using the “Evil Cripple” trope, with famous villains like Freddy, Jason, and Leatherface all sporting physical disfigurements. Other famous examples of disabled villains are the Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera, multiple James Bond antagonists, Mr. Glass in Unbreakable, Mason Verger from Hannibal, Captain Hook from Peter Pan, Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, and Darth Vader from Star Wars. 

Mr. Glass from Unbreakable (top left), The Phantom from the Phantom of the Opera (top right), Captain Hook from Hook, Raoul Silva from Skyfall, Freddy Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street (bottom left), and Mason Verger from Hannibal (bottom right). None of the characters pictured here are portrayed by disabled or disfigured actors. 

Although Elizabeth is a villain protagonist with a disability, she’s an incredibly well written, well-rounded character. She’s an evil (or at least morally gray) character who also has a disability, rather than a character who is evil because of a disability. Most importantly, Elizabeth is written in such a way that the audience is rooting for her sociopath self and able to relate to her. (Or at least I was. Who among us hasn’t fantasized about killing awful people?) Usually, villains with disabilities are written in such a way that they feel alien and are frightening in their strangeness, and this is accentuated by their disability or disfigurement.  Instead of seeming scary because of her disability, Elizabeth finds the opposite to be true. People assume she’s helpless: something she uses to her advantage. When suspicion falls on her, Elizabeth plays up her disability, relying on other people’s ableism so they think she’s innocent. It also helps that the author has hEDS herself, so the book is Own Voices and Elizabeth’s character just hits differently. 

Because the narration is first person, we get to see Elizabeth’s detached way of looking at the world and her twisted way of thinking. We get an intimate look at her struggles, both keeping her “other life” a secret and trying to kill victims when she’s not as strong as an able-bodied male killer. And of course, we get to learn about her frustration when dealing with her chronic pain and her boyfriend’s annoying abundance of concern for her. He’s convinced that she’s too fragile to function, yet doesn’t have the same concern for her comfort during sex. Side note, I love that Elizabeth gets to have hot sex scenes with her boyfriend. People with disabilities almost never get to have sex in fiction. In fact, outside of Mat Fraser in American Horror Story, George Robinson in Sex Education, and Peter Dinklage in Game of Thrones, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with a disability have sex in popular media (and of course those examples are all white, cisgendered men with conventionally attractive faces).

Another Elizabeth is a fascinating look into a twisted mind with a character that you can’t help but root for despite the fact she’s a serial killer who manipulates others. The story is the perfect length, not so long that it drags but not so short that it feels rushed. The second half of the book is especially exciting and the story is interspersed with bits of dark humor.   

Portrait of Lysbeth : A Gothic Novella by Rama Santa Mansa

Formats: Digital

Publisher: Lingeer Press

Genre: Demon, Gothic, Historic Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black (African American) main character and author, minor gay character

Takes Place in: Sleepy Hollow, NY

Content Warnings: Antisemitism, Child Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Childbirth, Death, Forced Captivity, Homophobia, Kidnapping, Medical Procedures, Oppression, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexism, Sexual Abuse, Slurs, Slut-Shaming, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Xenophobia (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

The year is 1676. We meet Lysbeth Luanda, a second-generation African freedwoman in New York, the former Dutch colony seized by the English, who, in a mere decade, have passed more cruel and oppressive restrictions on the free African community already living in the colony.After being orphaned at age 13, Lysbeth is forced to restart life all on her own––while working as a tavern waitress in Dutch and German-owned taverns along the banks of the Delaware and Hudson rivers. In this multinational milieu, she learns cosmopolitan skills and street philosophy from lovable lowlifes, brash buccaneers, African dreamers, indigenous heroines, and globetrotting Scandinavians. Lysbeth eventually finds a mentor in a Sephardi Jewish medical doctor from Curaçao, under whom she studies surgery and anatomy. As the gloomy autumn season begins in 1676, the gruesome murders of three European women, by an unknown assailant in the isolated village of Sleepy Hollow, shocks the whole of New York. Lysbeth's mentor convinces the New York High Sheriff to appoint Lysbeth to go investigate the victims’ inexplicable cause of death and bring back a written coroner's report. After an initial frosty reception by the villagers of Sleepy Hollow, Lysbeth gains new allies who assist her in her investigation.

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.

The Portrait of Lysbeth is set in Sleepy Hollow, but don’t expect mentions of the Headless Horseman or Ichabod Crane in this book. This story takes place about 100 years before the Revolutionary War and centers around Lysbeth, a free born Black woman, sent to investigate a serial killer (although that term wasn’t coined until the 20^th century) in Sleepy Hollow, New York.

Lisbeth Anthonijsen, was a real person born around 1650 into the free Black community of New Amsterdam (what is now New York City). She started working as a servant for white colonists at a young age. In June 1661 she was accused of stealing wampum from the house where she was employed and the court ordered her to be beaten with a rod as punishment. In the winter of 1663, Lisbeth was spotted running away from a housefire at the Cregier household where she was employed. She was blamed for starting the fire and the court sentenced her to be enslaved by the Cregier family. Young Lisbeth was never given a chance. Mansa’s mission, as she puts it, was to get justice for Lisbeth by writing The Portrait of Lysbeth. She did a ton of research for this book, and it really adds to the story. I appreciate the time and effort Mansa put in to creating the setting and her main character, Lysbeth.

The fictional Lysbeth Luanda is an educated freed woman who becomes an indentured servant at the age of 13, after the death or her parents. She’s forced to work as a tavern waitress for the next 22 years, where she learns about the world from her diverse clientele.  Eventually, Lysbeth makes her way back to New Amsterdam where she apprentices for a Sephardic Jewish doctor, who sends her to Sleepy Hollow to act as coroner.

Some parts of the book are written in third person present perfect tense, which I felt was an interesting, if uncommon, choice. It’s fine, it just took a little while to get used to. It also jumps around quite a bit, from Lysbeth’s childhood to her time studying under the physician then back to the murder investigation. It can get a little confusing. But once I got used to it, the story flowed much more smoothly. I found the more fanciful elements genuinely creepy, like when a maid becomes possessed and chases Lysbeth through the house. The entire murder investigation has an eerie feeling, and not just because of the way the townsfolk stare at her. There seem to be things lurking in the woods, things Lysbeth, as a woman of science, refuses to believe in.

 I appreciated how Mansa not only avoids common racist literary tropes but makes a point to subvert them. In the beginning of the book, Mansa describes an unpleasant white man’s complexion as “milk cream.” I was amused to see, for the first time, a white person’s skin compared to food, something that routinely happens to Black characters written by white authors. It was also a nice change of pace to not have the color black associated with evil, but with spiritual strength and protection from evil. This is seen both is Lysbeth’s horse and the spirit wolf that protects her. Instead, Lysbeth believes that it is white animals that are to feared as they lack the spiritual protection of blackness. I also liked that the enslaved Africans were referred to as “enslaved,” rather than “slaves.” A seemingly small change, but to me a powerful one. By calling someone a slave, their identity is reduced to their circumstance. It dehumanizes them. An enslaved person is a person first, who has had slavery forced upon them.

In the book, both Native and African characters were referred to by their nations and not all lumped into the same group. For example, Lisbeth’s father is Kongolese, a people originally found in what is modern day northern Angola. The man who gave Lysbeth her witch gun is Mbundu. It was also refreshing to see Native history, which is often erased, acknowledged in the story, such as the Wampanoag leader Metacom (also known by the English name King Philip) defending his lands from the Puritans and the Moravian massacre. However, the Native representation did leave me questioning some of the author’s choices. There’s a rather brutal description of the 1643 Pavonia massacre, where the Dutch invaded what is now called Manhattan and massacred scores of Lenape people. I appreciate that it’s made clear that the settlers are living on stolen land (Lenapehoking) and that attention is brought to Native history, however, I felt weird about having a non-Native author write about Native trauma. If this were a white author doing it, it would be a more clear-cut example of exploitation of a marginalized group’s suffering. White people have been stealing from and exploiting Natives for hundreds of years, even though it’s not always done maliciously. As Debbie Reese, a Nambé Owingeh Pueblo scholar and educator, explains on her blog American Indians in Children’s Literature:

“…the history of White people taking from Native people is also filled with White people who befriend us because they have found themselves living in or near our communities.

Of that latter group, I wish they could form those friendships without saying "look at me and my Native friend." Or, "look at the good I do for my Native friends!" Or, "I worked with them and they asked me to write this story about them." Or, "I taught their kids and I learned from them and so, I am able to write books about them that you should buy because I know what I'm talking about." Or, "Look! My book has a note inside from my Native friend or colleague. You can trust what you read in my book."

They mean well. But I wish they could see past their good intentions. What they're doing is exploitation.”

But Rama Santa Mansa isn’t white. She is a Black woman who wants to use her book to honor the untold stories of marginalized groups in what is now called the United States, but is that enough to give her a pass? Does her race make the story less problematic? It’s clear that Mansa did her best to portray the Lenape’s plight with respect, and wanted to include them as the first inhabitants of what is now called New York. There’s no colonialism being enforced, as Mansa is a Black author. She also did a significant amount of research for her book, but it left me wondering if she had reached out to Lenape or other Native scholars when writing it. There are certainly no Native books listed in her bibliography, no Native professors that she thanks in the acknowledgement, not even a reference to Indian 101 for writers.

I feel like at the very least a Native sensitivity reader would have been warranted. As Debbie Reese writes in her criticism of Justina Ireland’s book Dread Nation (another historic novel by a Black author), “It became clear to me that the reason her book fails in its representations of Native peoples is because she relied heavily on archival research. The "primary sources" she used are items in government archives--that are heavily biased.” This underlines the importance of using Native sources when discussing Native issues in addition to actually speaking to Native people. It’s also serves as a good reminder that just because a writer belongs to one marginalized group, it doesn’t mean they are qualified to write about another.

Despite the issues mentioned above I found the book overall enjoyable, with a highly detailed and well-researched setting and a strong Black woman protagonist. 

Spectrum: An Autistic Horror Anthology edited by Aquino Loayza

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Third Estate Books

Genre: Body Horror, Folk Horror, Myth and Folklore, Psychological Horror, Sci-Fi Horror, Slahser/Killer

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Autistic characters and authors, trans, two-spirit, agender and non-binary characters and authors, gay characters, asexual author and characters, Mexican American author and character, Latinx authors, biracial Filipino and Taiwanese author, Afro-Indigenous author

Content Warnings: Ableism, Alcohol Abuse, Animal Death, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Eating Disorder, Gaslighting, Gore, Illness, Medical Torture/Abuse, Mental Illness, Physical Abuse,  Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Suicide, Torture, Transphobia, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence (Highlight to view)

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.

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.

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.

Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morris

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Stelliform Press

Genre: Body Horror, Eco-Horror

Adult/Mature

Diversity: Mi'kmaw author and main character, queer main character, bisexual author

Content Warnings: Animal Death, Death, Gore, Medical Procedures, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

The debut novella from the Elgin Award winning author of Elegies of Rotting Stars. After the death of her estranged father, artist Rita struggles with grief and regret. There was so much she wanted to ask him-about his childhood, their family, and the Mi'kmaq language and culture from which Rita feels disconnected. But when Rita's girlfriend Molly forges an artist's residency application on her behalf, winning Rita a week to paint at an isolated cabin, Rita is both furious and intrigued. The residency is located where her father grew up. On the first night at the cabin, Rita wakes to strange sounds. Was that a body being dragged through the woods? When she questions the locals about the cabin's history, they are suspicious and unhelpful. Ignoring her unease, Rita gives in to dark visions that emanate from the forest's lake and the surrounding swamp. She feels its pull, channeling that energy into art like she's never painted before. But the uncanny visions become more insistent, more intrusive, and Rita discovers that in the swamp's decay the end of one life is sometimes the beginning of another.

This is a book about grief, nature, and how death transforms. And when you’re finished, you’ll love wetlands and never look at fungi the same way again.

Despite being a landscape artist who relies on nature to make a living, Rita is very separated from it. She’s a germaphobe (due to her mother) who lives in the city with her white girlfriend Maddie. Rita also incorporates inspiration from her cultural heritage, despite being disconnected from that too. She’s barely in contact with the Mi’kmaw family. She only remembers bits of the Mi’kmaw her father taught her, and while she can recognize Gomgwejui'gasit (Suckerfish script), she can’t read it. This makes it difficult for her to talk to other family members when her father dies or receive the same level of community support as her half-brother, who lives on the reservation with the rest of their family. Rita feels alone in her grief because she’s so isolated from her family, with Maddie offering little support. Rita is not able to say goodbye to her father in his home, like she traditionally would, but in a hospital hooked up to machines, which traumatizes her. Rita’s grief over losing her father is so severe that she has PTSD. Morris describes her grief as a devouring green, a chlorophyll feeding and transforming Rita. She feels guilt (not uncommon for someone who’s grieving), afraid she’s not mourning “correctly” and that it’s selfish and impersonal.

Part of Rita’s alienation from nature also means she is not connected to the natural process of death and rebirth, despite feeling like she and the land are both dying, “flailing fish on a drying shore”. Mi'kmaw  artist Alan Syliboy, who created an art exhibit that will focus on Mi'kmaw traditions around death, told CBC "…in Mi'kmaw society, death is not covered or hidden. When you're a child, you're aware [of it]." Rita, however, is surrounded by Euro-American culture, which rarely interacts with death outside the funeral industrial complex. One of the tenets of the death positivity movement is that hiding death behind closed doors and surrounding it with a  culture of silence  does more harm than good. Another tenet is that death should be handled in a way that “does not do great harm to the environment” and encourages green burials. Historically, both things would have been practiced in most cultures, but the invention of the toxic embalming process took death customs out of the home and created a for-profit industry. If you’re interested in learning more about the history of embalming and the birth of the funeral industry, my sister has made a great video about it here. Today, standard funeral practices such as embalming and cremation are devastating the environment, poisoning the land and air.

The theme of environmental devastation is present throughout the book. It’s the Frog Croaking Moon, Squoljikus (around May), but the heat from climate change makes the loons think it’s summer and Rita can hear their mating calls. The Mi’kmaw names for the months, like the Trees Fully Leafed Moon, no longer match seasonal changes. She describes the heat as “unbearable” and feels like she’s being smothered by it. A history of colonial violence is inexorably linked to the current environmental crisis. Colonizers brought with them industrialization and capitalism, treating nature and its resources as something to be exploited. Indigenous environmental justice addresses both the injustices suffered by Indigenous people and the current climate crisis. Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) organizer Kaniela Ing wrote "Indigenous communities are disproportionately impacted by the climate crisis because we maintain the closest ties to our natural environment.” He also wrote “Any climate solution would be incomplete without justice at its core. Kānaka Maoli, Native Hawaiians, should be central to the rebuilding and recovery efforts. We should have the authority to manage our lands and resources.”

The water protectors of the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation are probably the best known example of Indigenous environmental justice. There’s also Shiela Watt-Cloutier, an Inuit Indigenous rights activist, and author of the book “Right to be Cold.” In it she writes about how global warming is destroying her home by melting the permafrost and ice caps, and causing unpredictable weather patterns. Dario Kopenawa, a Yanomami leader, combats illegal gold mining and deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon. And Rick O’Rourke, fire and fuels manager of the Yurok Cultural Fire Management Council, uses traditional Yurok knowledge of controlled burns to prevent forest fires in the Klamath mountains of northern California.

Throughout the book nature is described in a way that makes it seem violent and alien, and Rita is shown to be fearful of it (she’s even terrified of harmless moths), with a good dose of body horror mixed in to represent her fear. But as time passes, and Rita feels her body being reclaimed by nature her fear slowly morphs into acceptance. She even considers walking into the forest and disappearing. Morris’ descriptions of Rita’s strong emotions and fears feels like a frenzied fever dream, with the environment becoming a character itself. Her descriptions of grief are powerful and moved me to tears as I remembered my own experiences with grieving. With Green Fuse Burning Morris has created a beautiful, deeply personal story that flows like poetry.