(UN) Bury your Gays by Clinton W. Waters

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Self Published

Genre: Body Horror, Eldritch, Sci-Fi,  Zombie

Audience: Y/A

Diversity: Gay author and characters

Content Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Animal Death, Bullying, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Homophobia, Kidnapping, Medical Procedures, Physical Abuse, Slurs, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

It's the late 2000's. Humphrey West and his best friend Danny are just trying to survive their senior year. Unfortunately, Danny falls short of that goal after a risky rendezvous. But Humphrey has just the thing: a concoction borne of magic and science that is able to bring the dead back to life (at least it's worked on a bee so far). Against all odds, Danny comes back from the clutches of death. The Danny that returns is...different. And it's not just the missing memories. Soon, Humphrey is doing everything in his power to keep his friend alive, but none the wiser to what is happening. A queering of the Lovecraft classic "Herbert West - Reanimator", (UN)Bury Your Gays is about blurring the boundaries between life and death, love and obsession, and secrets and lies.

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.

Considering what a raging bigot H.P. Lovecraft was, it’s always delightful when one of his works is reclaimed by marginalized creators, because you just know it would drive him absolutely batty. On top of being racist, sexist, xenophobic, and antisemitic, Lovecraft was also a homophobe. He discouraged his close friend, a gay man named Robert Hayward Barlow, from writing homoerotic fiction, and his letters condemned homosexuality (though it’s unclear if Lovecraft ever knew the man he appointed as the executor of his literary estate was gay). However, some literary critics speculate that Lovecraft was himself secretly gay or asexual. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a homophobe would be overcompensating for a sexuality they were secretly ashamed of. It would certainly explain the strangely close friendship between one of Lovecraft’s most popular characters, Herbert West, and the unnamed narrator in Herbert West: Reanimator. Perhaps Lovecraft subconsciously created a male-male relationship that he himself desired.

The original story was first serialized in the pulp magazine Home Brew in 1922 and told the story of Herbert West and his loyal assistant, two medical students at Miskatonic University who experiment with reviving the dead. Their experiments are less than successful as the reanimated corpses become violent and animalistic; one even devours a child. The two share a close relationship, choosing to live together for years, even though the assistant admits to being terrified of his friend. The movie Re-Animator (1985) and its sequel Bride of Re-Animator (1990) furthers the gay subtext between the movie’s main characters Herbert West (Jeffery Combs) and Dan Cain (Bruce Abbot), with West often acting like a jealous lover to Dan. The homoerotic reading of the first two Re-Animator movies is apparently so popular it has over 500 fanfics shipping the two on Archive of our Own.  

(Un) Bury Your Gays is “a queering” of Herbert West: Reanimator that also draws inspiration from the films. (For example, the chemical solution in Waters’ story has a green glow, a movie-specific detail.) The title is a reference both to subverting the Bury Your Gays trope and to the plot itself where a gay character is brought back from the dead and literally “unburied.” The novella tells the story of Herbert West’s great-nephew Humphrey West, and his best friend, Danny Moreland (who takes over the role of the assistant and whose name is a reference to Dan Cain). Danny and Humphrey are best friends, and the only two queer kids in their religious, rural town. While they do love each other, it’s purely platonic and the two aren’t in a romantic relationship. Humphrey remains single while Danny secretly hooks up with the captain of the football team, Judd Thomas, who also happens to be the son of the town pastor and Humphrey’s biggest bully.The trouble starts when Humphrey discovers his great-uncle’s notebook detailing the secret to life after death. Humphrey attempts to use the reanimator solution to bring a dead bee back to life, with the hope that he can somehow use it to fight colony collapse disorder. But the road to hell is paved with good intentions and the solution soon leads to death and the destruction of Danny and Humphrey’s friendship.

Waters does an excellent job mimicking Lovecraft’s original story, both in tone and content, while also making it uniquely his own. Initially appearing to be a sensitive kid, Humphrey is eventually revealed to be every bit as complex as his great-uncle. His desire for revenge causes him to make morally questionable choices, which he rationalizes as trying to protect his best friend. He comes off as cold to others (much like Herbert West), even though he feels things deeply.  It's an interesting twist to have the reanimator narrate the story, rather than his assistant. We get to hear firsthand what’s going through the mind of the mad scientist, making Humphrey a much more sympathetic character. He clearly loves Danny, and will do anything to protect him, but he takes it too far and becomes obsessive and controlling without even realizing it. When things go too far, Humphrey doesn’t show remorse-- much to Danny’s horror. But all Humphrey wants is to keep his friend safe. He genuinely thinks he’s doing the right thing and can’t comprehend why Danny gets upset with him and eventually cuts him out of his life. And because Humphrey’s character is sympathetic, and we know how he feels and thinks, I honestly felt bad for him. It’s a compassion I can’t conjure for either the original Herbert West or the film version, both of whom, while not necessarily evil, are definitely on the lower end of the morality scale.

Overall Water’s queer retelling/sequel to Herbert West: Reanimator is an excellently written, morally gray horror that’s sure to please Lovecraft fans.

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

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.

We Are Here to Hurt Each Other by Paula D. Ashe

Formats: Print, digital

Publisher: Nictitating Books

Genre: Body Horror, Killer/Slasher, Occult, Psychological Horror

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Queer, Black author and characters

Takes Place in: Ohio

Content Warnings: Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Illness, Incest, Kidnapping, Necrophilia, Mental Illness, Pedophilia, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Slut-Shaming, Torture, Violence (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

With these twelve stories Paula D. Ashe takes you into a dark and bloody world where nothing is sacred and no one is safe. A landscape of urban decay and human degradation, this collection finds the psychic pressure points of us all, and giddily squeezes. Try to run, try to hide, but there is no escape: we are here to hurt each other.

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’ve ever thought “Gee, I’m feeling too mentally and emotionally healthy. I should read something so disturbing and intense my therapist will finally be able to pay off their student loans from all the sessions I’m going to need,” then look no further then Paula D. Ashe’s We Are Here to Hurt Each Other. This horror is extreme. Ashe explores such taboo topics as incest, child abuse, child murders, self-harm, and religious extremism without flinching, yet it never feels like she’s making light of the subject matter. It’s extreme horror that never feels exploitative.

Interestingly, Ashe’s stories are very light on the gore (with a few exceptions). I’ve always found extreme horror that relies too much on blood and guts to be boring (blame my ultraviolent horror phase in college for making me jaded), so it was one of the things I particularly liked about the book. There are also very few examples of the supernatural in this anthology, and no supernatural antagonists. All the villains are very much human. Ashe’s work focuses on psychological horror, the terrifying in the mundane, and the terrible things the average human is capable of. What if you found out your own child was a monster? And not the furry or fanged kind, but the regular old terrible human kind? What if, to cope with abuse, you became the abuser without even realizing? What if you would do absolutely anything to keep the one you love? Ashe takes these simple, awful questions and gives us the terrifying answer, sometimes in a variety of ways. Bereft and Because you Watched, both deal with adult children dealing with their histories of extreme abuse and culpable siblings, but are two very different stories.

The stories are extremely well written, and I was impressed how each character had such a distinct voice. No two stories sound the same, but they all share Ashe’s poetic talent. We are Here to Hurt Each Other is a gripping and deeply unsettling anthology; Ashe’s skill shines through in each story, though I found Exile in Extremis, The Mother of All Monsters, and Because you Watched to be my personal favorites. The first is an epistolary story about a drug so powerful it is said to bring back the dead and with references to the classic horror anthology The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers. The second is about the relationship between a mother and her son while a series of child murders take place. And the last is about the strained relationship between siblings who have witnessed the abuse of their youngest sister at the hands of their cruel parents.

We Are Here to Hurt Each Other is not an easy read, but it is an excellent one. Despite their depravity the stories are still hauntingly beautiful. You’ll find this anthology sitting with you long after you put it down.

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

Content Warnings: Child Death, Child Endangerment, Death, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Homophobia, Medical Torture/Abuse, Mental Illness, Oppression, Police Harassment, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence (Highlight to view)

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.

The Wicked and the Willing by Lianyu Tan

 

Formats: Print, digital, audio

Publisher: Shattered Scepter Press

Genre: Historic Horror, Vampire

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Lesbian, Malay, Chinese

Takes Place in: Singapore (The Straights Settlement)

Content Warnings:  Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Child Endangerment, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Kidnapping, Medical Torture/Abuse, Oppression, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Sexism, Slut-Shaming, Suicide, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Victim Blaming, Violence (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

Love demands sacrifice. Her blood. Her body. Even her life. Singapore, 1927. Verity Edevane needs blood. And not just anyone's blood. She craves the sweet, salty rush from a young woman's veins, the heady swirl of desire mixed with fealty—such a rarity in this foreign colony. It’s a lot to ask. But doesn't she deserve the best? Gean Choo needs money. Mrs. Edevane makes her an offer Gean Choo can't refuse. But who is her strange, alluring new mistress? What is she? And what will Gean Choo sacrifice to earn her love? Po Lam needs absolution. After decades of faithfully serving Mrs. Edevane, Po Lam can no longer excuse a life of bondage and murder. She needs a fresh start. A clean conscience. More than anything, she needs to save Gean Choo from a love that will destroy them 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.

The Wicked and the Willing is a dark, supernatural romance set in Singapore in the late 1920s while it was still the Straits Settlements and under British control. The story revolves around three women: Gean Choo, Verity, and Po Lam. Gean Choo, is a young Chinese woman with no family who takes a job working for a wealthy White woman. She quickly falls in love with her employer, a beautiful, but dangerous vampire named Verity Edevane. Po Lam is Verity’s head servant, a strong and formal woman who also develops a soft spot for Gean Choo. Although, while Po Lam uses she/her pronouns, she dresses as a man and is gender non-conforming. It’s unclear if she’s very butch or if her gender is fluid. But without enough evidence to the contrary, I’m going to assume she identifies as a butch woman for the purpose of this review. Each chapter is told from a different woman’s point of view and follows the turbulent romance between Gean Choo and Verity. Po Lam struggles with whether to interfere and warn Gean Choo that she’s playing with fire, or to remain an obedient servant and stay out of it. The story touches on the power dynamics of race, age, wealth, and gender. We see this in the relationships between Verity and her servants, Verity and the Vampire leader Kalon, and the women with society.

Verity may give Gean Choo permission to use her given name, but theirs is still an imbalanced relationship. As her wealthy mistress and as a White woman, Verity holds all the power over her servants, making it difficult(if not impossible) for Gean Choo to turn down any of her requests, even when she’s uncomfortable. As an impoverished, unmarried orphan, options are for employment are limited and Gean Choo is desperate to protect her cushy position in the vampire’s household. So, while on the surface it may appear as though the two women are both willingly engaging in sadomasochism (and in the hands of a less talented writer this would certainly be the case), it’s clear that there is an issue of consent. Does Gean Choo let her mistress push her past her comfort limits because that’s what she wants as a submissive, or because she’s afraid of losing her job? Tan skillfully presents their bond as unhealthy, but alluring enough for a girl with rose-tinted glasses to miss the red flags without romanticizing it. Verity is a monster, but she hides it behind charm and extravagant displays of affection, a common trait of abusers during the “calm” or “honeymoon” stage of the abuse cycle. Contrast this with more problematic romance books like Twilight, where an abusive relationship is passed off as romantic.

Gean Choo’s race also plays a role in their power imbalance. Verity clearly sees her as an “exotic” sexual fantasy she needs to rescue, instead of a real person. She treats her like a “China doll,” dressing her up and styling her hair, and can’t even be bothered to pronounce her name correctly.Iinstead, she calls her “Pearl” (the second charter in Gean Choo’s name is 珠 which is Hokkien for Pearl). There are similarities to the relationship in Miss Saigon, Madama Butterfly (on which Miss Saigon is based), The World of Suzie Wong, and other orientalist works of fiction, where a young, innocent (but also hypersexualized) Asian woman is taken advantage of by a White foreigner. Tan reclaims the trope by making Gean Choo a complex character who’s stronger than she thinks and uses this as another aspect of their relationship’s dysfunction. She also shows how harmful it is by having Verity literally prey on Asian women (mostly sex workers) who she views as disposable, a view shared by the British who prey on the countries they colonize. Despite all Verity’s power as a vampire and a rich White woman, she is still a second-class citizen in the eyes of society because of her gender and is forced to submit to the will of the sadistic vampire leader, Kalon.

Overall, I greatly enjoyed Tan’s violent, sexy, historical “romance.” There was plenty of gratuitous sex and violence, non-White lesbians, and commentary about colonization and abusive relationships. What I found particularly unique was Tan giving the reader two different options for the ending, one happy and one tragic depending on which romance the reader chooses for Gean Choo to embrace. Overall, the book is beautifully written. Tan has a very impressive and extensive vocabulary which she used to weave the narrative, which she manages to do without ever being sesquipedalian or descending into purple prose. I’d recommend this book to anyone who likes period horror or vampire romances where the vampire’s monstrosity is never downplayed. 

The Final Women by Pardeep Aujla

Formats: Digital

Publisher: Self-Published

Genre: Demon, Killer/Slasher, Occult

Audience: Adult/Mature

Diversity: Black main character, Latina main character, Vietnamese main character, lesbian main character

Content Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Amputation, Bullying, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Gore, Homophobia, Mental Illness, Racism, Self-Harm, Sexism, Suicide, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Violence (Highlight to view)

Blurb:

The mass murdering Phantom of Haven Cove is dead. For the one who killed him, however, life has never been the same. How do you return to normality after facing such a monster? How do you live when consumed by guilt, anger, fear, and denial? How do you connect with others when no one understands what you’ve been through? But there are others... Final girls of their own Haven Cove massacres. And now, thirty years later, they must all face a new question... What do you do when the killer returns?

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.

What happens when final girls grow up? It depends how they deal with the trauma of what happened to them the night they faced off with the masked killer, Silas Crowe. If you’re Nell James, you grow up to become a lonely and agoraphobic author who tries to turn the worst thing that ever happened to her-- watching her friends get murdered one by one--into financial gain. If you’re Josie Jedford, you numb your fear with drugs. Or you could become a paranoid survivalist like Ana Gómez who transforms her badly burned body into a living weapon. Even Cassie Phong, who seems to have the perfect life what with her wealthy husband and two children, can’t escape the PTSD she developed the night she faced off with Silas Crowe. Each woman has done her best to put the past behind them, believing Crowe to be dead once and for all. That is until Camp Haven Cove reopens and a new group of teenagers goes missing. Nell realizes that Silas Crowe never died, and never will unless she, and the other three former final girls find a way to deal with him once and for all. Now well into their forties the four final woman team up to put a stop to the killings once and for all.

Slasher heroines are almost exclusively young women: teens and twenty somethings with bare breasts and flat stomachs (they’re always conventionally attractive) enjoying the prime of their lives through sex, drugs and drinking. Any woman above the age of thirty is either a mother or a side character, and if she has a few gray hairs she’s relegated to the role of a frightful hag. But as nostalgia for horror of the 80’s and 90’s breathes new life into horror franchises, Hollywood is doing something new. Instead of rebooting and recasting their heroines, they’re allowing them to grow up from Final Girls into Final Women. Sidney Prescott (Scream), Laurie Strode (Halloween), and Sally Hardesty (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) all recently reprised their roles in their respective franchises as badass heroines over the age of forty. And as someone who will soon be saying goodbye to my thirties, it’s refreshing to see older women get their time in the slasher spotlight, and that’s one of the things I liked best about The Final Women.  Nell, Josie, Ana, and Cassie are all approaching fifty, but they all get to be the heroes of the story, and I found them much more relatable then horny, drunk teens in the woods. They’re also not written for the male gaze, which is refreshing.

Another thing I liked about the book was Aujla’s realistic depiction of PTSD. None of the women escaped Silas unscathed, they each bear their own physical and mental scars, as one would expect from anyone going up against a slasher. Nell displays avoidance of people and places that remind her of her traumatic event and might trigger a flashback. Cassie and Josie both develop substance abuse problems, alcohol and drugs respectively, a common comorbidity for people with PTSD. Ana is prone to angry outbursts and aggressive behavior and is hypervigilant. All the women struggle with nightmares and flashbacks. It’s refreshing to see a slasher actually deal with mental health and the aftermath of a traumatic event (something we’re starting to see in more recent film sequels). I genuinely cared about all the main characters, something that rarely happens in horror fiction, and I was scared to see any of them get hurt or killed. Aujla just writes them so well! It’s sweet to see these women from different walks of life bond and draw strength from each other.

The Final Women was fun in a way the best 80’s slashers are. Gory, over the top, and wickedly funny. I absolutely devoured it as I found both the story and the characters enthralling. It draws on classic horror tropes while still being wholly unique. If you’re a fan of slashers you’ll definitely want to check this one out. 

Hoodoo by Ronald Smith

Formats: Print, audio, digital

Publisher: Clarion Books

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

Audience: Children

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

Takes Place in: Alabama, USA

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

Blurb:

Twelve-year-old Hoodoo Hatcher was born into a family with a rich tradition of practicing folk magic: hoodoo, as most people call it. But even though his name is Hoodoo, he can't seem to cast a simple spell.         Then a mysterious man called the Stranger comes to town, and Hoodoo starts dreaming of the dead rising from their graves. Even worse, he soon learns the Stranger is looking for a boy. Not just any boy. A boy named Hoodoo. The entire town is at risk from the Stranger’s black magic, and only Hoodoo can defeat him. He’ll just need to learn how to conjure first.         Set amid the swamps, red soil, and sweltering heat of small town Alabama in the 1930s, Hoodoo is infused with a big dose of creepiness leavened with gentle humor.

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

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

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

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

Hoodoo can also be a pretty vexing narrator. He has a habit of defining random words and then ending his sentence with "If you didn't know". I know this is probably the most random, arbitrary nitpick, but while it was only mildly irritating the first half-dozen times, by the third chapter I could barely suppress my urge to scream and punch something every time Hoo Doo felt like he had to explain what Molasses or an Outhouse was, then end the sentence with "if you didn't know". I KNOW WHAT AN OUTHOUSE IS GET ON WITH THE STORY BEFORE I THROW YOU IN ONE. I get that the book is for kids, and they may not know what cracklin' is, but I'm pretty sure most children who are capable of reading a chapter book are also able to perform a basic Google search or use a dictionary. And that's assuming they can't just figure out a word from context. I didn't know what "Squirrel Nut Zippers" were before reading this (ironically the one thing Hoodoo didn't feel like explaining) but I was still able to discern that he was talking about a sweet and not the swing band based on the context. And then I Googled it and learned that Squirrel Nut Zippers are a vanilla flavored caramel candy mixed with[HA1]  peanuts. So now I know that random bit of trivia and that Hoodoo likes gross candy. Maybe it was an attempt by Smith to make his character sounds more "natural" when he's talking to the audience, but I felt like the narrative came to a screeching halt every time Hoodoo whipped out his annoying catchphrase. Maybe (probably) I'm just really, easily annoyed but all the "If you didn't know”s were like nails on a chalkboard and distracted me from trying to enjoy the story.

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

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

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

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