February is Women in Horror Month (recently changed to March). My love for the horror genre goes way back, before I began voraciously reading. It likely developed the moment my parents told me to go back in my room as they sat down to watch Poltergeist. Instead, I did what any curious and rebellious six-year-old would: I snuck out, crawling on all fours, and watched Poltergeist, terrified from behind my dad’s recliner. Though I couldn’t sleep for a week after, I was addicted.
In a lovely bit of astrological alignment, my horror story “Specimen” came out in Trembling with Fear today. You can read it for free here. This is massive and deliciously circular to me because I remember when I was a wee babe of writing and putting my short, horror work out there, Trembling with Fear was one of the first venues I came across. It is such an honor to be included.
Here is how Editor Stephanie Ellis introduces it:
“First up this week is Specimen by Ashley B. Davis, a hauntingly atmospheric story of an abandoned naturalist on an island uninhabited by humans. His obsession with the specimens he is observing is gradually changed, roles reversing as he struggles to survive.”
Looking for more ways to celebrate women in horror this month? Of course you are! You can read and listen to my other work by visiting my Published Works page, but here’s a quick rundown of my most recent publications. You can listen to me reading my poem “Time Consuming” at Liquid Imagination or listen to a full-blown audio production of my story “Feud” at The Grey Rooms 😱 (my story starts at 19:54). I also spoke (awkwardly) at length about my story and the horror genre with the inimitable Brooks Bigley at The Grey Rooms Podcast in my Behind the Door interview. Lastly, if you enjoyed the naturalist protagonist in “Specimen”, you can read about another scientific-minded protagonist in my story “The Wake” at Jamais Vu.
Happy reading, listening, whatever poison you choose. May your month be full of wicked female wiles and all the horror.
I have been following Amie McNee, creativity coach and book doula, on Instagram for some time. McNee encourages authors and artists to claim their creator title. The messages she writes to herself and to her followers are designed to systematically restructure our sometimes debilitating inner monologues about being a creator. Even in writing that last sentence, I had originally written “Her little messages”–McNee has taught me this is how doubt, negativity, and fear of others’ perceptions can alter and minimize the self we are striving to be.
I’ve always considered myself as someone who processes life through writing. I don’t get angry at someone and then write them into a novel to then put them through horrible trials. It’s a different kind of processing I undergo when creating art. It’s like I become a sieve, where the sand of any heavy emotion falls to the bottom and all of the bigger stuff like truth rises to the top (wait, do I know how a sieve works?). Though I’ve always instinctively resorted to this act of processing/creating, whenever I have thought of myself as ‘Artist’ or ‘Author’, I would always inwardly cringe, and I certainly never proclaimed myself aloud as such.
Years ago, I started this blog as a home for my creative works, a platform for a writer. I’ve always been more comfortable with calling myself a writer, because it so tidily sits beside reader and doodler. But to call oneself an “Author” is big. It comes with a truckload of connotation and entitled-sounding opinion, but I mentioned in an old post that declaring yourself the self you want to be by living as though you already are, is part of the becoming process. Even now, I feel resistance writing this post, worrying whether it is trite or whether it will resonate with anyone. But I couldn’t honestly share this milestone without talking about about everything I’ve had to fight against to get here.
All this to say, as soon as I changed my online presence descriptors to say “Author”, as soon as I anointed myself with that whole truckload of connotation behind it, that in and of itself didn’t make things happen for me, but it gave me the power to start opening those doors that had been there all along.
Image credit: Cassie Pertiet
Last year, I’d received the acceptance from The Grey Rooms Podcast for my most recently published work, a short horror story “Feud” (click here to listen; my story starts at 19:54). Since then, I have decided to self-publish a novel (more information on that soon!), scheduled a photoshoot for my author photo(!), and have been interviewed (listen to the interview here!) for the first time as an AUTHOR (notice I removed the quotations on that one 😏). I’m not saying that acceptance made those things happen. But my decision to proclaim myself certainly gave me the power to reach out and take what I wanted.
Writing this from the place of the final pass through of edits on upcoming debut release, where I am ripping my hair out, wondering if it’s as close to done as I thought, feels a little fraudulent, but it’s time to fly!
Let’s chat in the comments. Have you ever let yourself fall into this trap of self-denial? How did you anoint yourself?
I measure my life in pages read. I remember reading Carry On while home with my newborn twins, reawakening my love for the chosen one’s tale that Harry Potter once ignited; I remember reading Catcher in the Rye during a rough time in high school and falling in love with a voice; I was in the midst of consuming Dracula as I was defending my graduate thesis.
Instead of measuring my life in pages read, this year I completely escaped into books to avoid all negativity. Which means 2021 had a lot of comfort rereads (8 total), but it was also packed with many great new reads. Given the majority of my ratings were 5 stars, I know I am getting better at pursuing the books I will love. And if I didn’t love it, I didn’t beat myself up about dropping it like a hot potato (In the House Upon the Dirt Between the Lake in the Woods and surprisingly, One Last Stop).
The first book of 2021 feels like a millennium ago. Just what the eff happened to this year? And The Year That Shall Not Be Named for that matter. Given this strange liminal space our world is in right now, it’s time for some romance recommendations.
So the first amazing romance read (arguably a romantic sci-fi) that blew me away was Winter’s Orbit by Everina Maxwell. I did a FULL post on this treasure of a reading experience here. Tl;dr: The world-building was flawlessly immersive and the political intrigue was deeply human and threaded so well into the love story. I keep this book pressed inside my trench coat and push it into anyone’s face who passes–not really, as I listened to it on audio, which I also highly recommend. If you submit your receipt for a purchase of the paperback to fan artist, graphic novelist, and author Vanessa Kelley prior to 1/31/22 you get her GORGEOUS fanart *drools*
This takes me right into The Darkness Outside Of Us because Winter’s Orbit gave me a fever, and the only prescription was more m/m space opera (props if you get that Walken reference). The Darkness Outside of Us was a little more intimate and psychological and a lot darker, but just as sweeping. I ADORED the audio narrator and compulsively spoke in Kodiak’s accent for at least two weeks to show my love and devotion to James Fouhey. Because, you know, I do my part to support the arts.
MOAR romance:
Cochrun’s romantic comedy was the very definition of what you’re looking for when you bust out your finest rosé (or Belgian white, we don’t judge here) and you have the next 48 hours responsibility-free. This sweet book had the added bonus of being very relevant to our does-art-imitate-life-or-life-imitate-reality-tv world. It also handled mental illness with so much grace and empathy. I was utterly besotted with this love story.
This graphic novel was like a warm blueberry scone with bright notes of lemon zest in the trash fire continuation of the 2020-2021 period. It was sweet, inventive, heartfelt, and hilarious. I adored every second of it, even the hockey scenes to which I was completely ignorant. I have no IDEA how on this green earth Ukazu kept all of this in her head–the art, the storyline, the sports and college aspect. Just wow. To top it off, I just realized that one of my favorite author’s wrote the blurb, so yep. I was bound to love it.
This book was a time capsule. It transported the all-consuming experience of reading fantasy as a teen to me as a grown ass adult. It has the YA capital EFF Feels, the main character that ages as the story progresses (sometimes referred to as a bildungsroman–one of my favorite structures!), a bad ass gender-subversive elfin heroine (I mean, if you aren’t already walking out your door and heading to your local bookstore or library after reading that, then I don’t know what else I can say), and an engaging, richly crafted world.
Can you even with that cover?! Nope. No, you can’t.
I loved this novel so much. It flirted with every gothic romance that has thorned its way into my barren chest cavity while simultaneously delivering a fresh, modern take on the horror genre. I am all about mood and atmosphere and Moreno-Garcia delivered both by the haunted estate-load.
Okay, it’s becoming apparent that I absolutely do judge books and their potential to light all my happy centers in my brain by their covers. But hey, hasn’t let me down thus far
Look, I think all you need to know about this one is that it inspired me to write an embarrassing gushing fan letter. Could you just go ahead and burn that, Lee? Thaaaaanks….
In all honesty, I fell so deep into this narrative, I had no idea when I might ever come out and nor did I care. It was beautifully done, grief-felt, stomach-swoopingly surprising, and gasoline charged. And I would do it all over again.
This candy-coated contemporary gem held me in a chokehold for over a month. Another bildungsroman, this novel is exactly the kind of novel you read and wish you had thought of and had the barest talent to execute. I, I mean. I wish I had thought of it and had a sliver of Boyne’s talent with which to execute even a facsimile. Diosmio, I needed a stiff drink and an actual hug from someone who wasn’t simultaneously stabbing me with a salad fork in the back after (and while) reading this. Seriously though, will read again when my inward bleeding resolves.
You only come across a talent like Khorram’s–so like a finely crafted arrow with which to pierce what you thought was your dead heart–once in a lifetime. That arrow is his ability to resurrect the angst, fears, and hopes of my teenage years. Every YA author should aspire to this greatness; we plebs could all only hope to be so wise and timeless in our harrowing tales of youth.
Honorable Mentions
+A Man Called Ove (contemporary) by Fredrik Backman
+Any and all Emily Henry (all hail the queen of rom com). Fight me. I laughed so hard reading a part from People We Meet on Vacation to my spouse I legit almost died.
+The Witch Elm (mystery) by Tana French
So yeah…next time someone asks what kind of books I like to read and I’m like ‘everything’ and they’re like *suspicious face* I will just refer them to this list.
New Year Reading Goals
You may be asking what I could possibly hope to improve upon in the upcoming year after these phenomenal 2021 reads. I gotta say, I’m pretty happy with my 50 book goal. It’s nice meeting my Goodreads goal while being completely doable with my other obligations like reading copious fanfic and binging Star Trek Discovery. But truly, I hope to be a bit more creatively productive in 2022 than I was this year, so 50 is a comfortable standard with which to hold myself.
Something that is becoming increasingly important to me is reading widely as a writer studying craft, yes, but even more than that, reading for enjoyment. If I am not enjoying a book, I will have zero qualms about dropping it.
What are your 2022 reading goals? Do you hope to read more than you got to this year? Or are you focusing more on quality than quantity?
I’ve been watching YouTube videos reading about manifestation through parallel realities, how envisioning what you want asreality can manifest it. Well, at the risk of sounding like someone who just joined a cult, it worked. Liquid Imagination published my poem, Time Consuming, today! I love this poem and the little monster inside me that whispered these words. You can read it AND listen to it for free (shout out to my husband for all of his EQ-ing and recording program wizardry)! I feel like this poem and the beast at the heart of it exquisitely translates to audio. This publication is extra exciting, because I’ve always wanted to be a voice actor or audiobook narrator. Don’t worry. I’m not one of those weirdos who is immune to hearing my voice on a recording. See tweet below for evidence.
Me, everytime I hear a recorded version of myself (ie as others must hear me) pic.twitter.com/gfAmxHqRFu
But I do enjoy reading aloud. I’ve always been faster at understanding what I’m hearing than silent reading. I will say though, after twelve takes of this poem, I appreciate how much work goes into audiobooks.
In my last post, I suggested some different mediums to celebrate Women in Horror Month. For more ways to commemorate, check out Annie Neugebauer’s 9 Ways to Celebrate Women in Horror Month on Lit Reactor. In keeping with Annie’s third way to celebrate this month, I have to give a shout out to another woman in horror who gets me to my desk every Sunday morning to dabble in my dark proclivities: Carie Juettner. We met back in 2013, and our history just goes to show that online friendships can be just as strong. We’ve exchanged snail mail, attended a horror conference together, and traded our horror stories, novels, and poetry over these last six years. Check out her poem Night Walk in Dreams & Nightmares and her shudderingly good story Makeup, which you can listen to on Tales To Terrify. The narrator is fantastique!
To close out Women in Horror Month, I also want to share my first ever published work, The Insolubility of Nightmares, published by Hello Horror in 2013. Cutting a path for oneself in writing of any kind is an arduous, time-consuming process. Because of my publication today, three years since my horror flash, “The Wake“, and because I like circles, it seemed befitting to dedicate this post to the friendly person and fierce writer who inspired me to first submit my work, Annie Neugebauer.
If you checked out my first poem, The Insolubility of Nightmares, or read/listen to my new poem, Time Consuming, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
My sisters and I used to have an ongoing competition to see who could scare the other two the most by jumping out at them. I never begrudged them whenever they would win, because it meant that I had been scared. That game was how I got my original horror kicks.
Nowadays, I’m a little less spastic (not really, I keep the legacy alive with my husband and daughters) and far more cultured about my love of horror. I love horror in art, horror movies, and of course reading horror. While movies spoon feed it all to you, seeing and reading it involve a little more on the part of the viewer/reader. Art requires you to create a story in your head, consciously or subconsciously, that makes it horror to you. You fill in the blanks the artist left behind. Whereas when reading it, you’re given the story and you make up the rest with the images dancing in your brain. It depends so heavily on the writer’s skill, their understanding of fear and fearlessness in employing that understanding.
Below, you will find a little reading list of horror in surprising places. Because what better time is there to scare yourself as we approach Halloween? None, I say.
Horror in Middle Grade (MG) Fiction
The Nest
It’s not that I think it isn’t possible for a children’s book to be scary. I started my avid reading career in Goosebumps, okay? But I became physically uncomfortable when reading this book, squirming throughout most of it. On the surface the premise might seem innocuous: A boy worries about his sick newborn brother and develops a complicated relationship with the wasps building the nest outside his bedroom window; I assure you, the novel is anything but. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever read. Extremely original and skin-crawlingly creepy.
Horror in Young Adult (YA) Fiction
My Best Friend’s Exorcism
Yes, it’s shelved as horror. But I have read plenty of horror novels I enjoyed but that didn’t scare me. You know what I mean? It’s hard to do.
In this post last Halloween, I recommended this book as quirky horror. And it was. But I have to be honest, there were a couple scenes in this 80s-centered novel that terrified me more than any Stephen King scenes.
Horror in YA fantasy
The Raven Boys
If you’ve been following me on Twitter or have read my most recent post, you know I’m obsessed with this series. On the real though? My body broke out in chills while reading The Raven Boys, and I had to stand up away from the book to pace while my husband politely listened to my hysterical string of curses. The horror was intense, and it’s not even marketed as horror! This author does atmosphere so well, so when she wants to scare the shit out of you, she’s pretty damn successful. Also, it doesn’t stop with this book. It’s strung throughout the series.
Uprooted
A note about horror in YA and MG: I would never recommend these books to anyone looking for “lite horror”. When I say unexpected horror, that’s exactly what I mean. These novels scared me, and I didn’t expect it. When reading this novel, I experienced utter physical discomfort and psychological…interruption.
Do not let that cover fool you. This novel was stunning, but it has an inky darkness made all the blacker beside the life and love it struggles to consume.
Horror in Poetry
Satan Says
There were some lines, shit, entire poems in this collection that grabbed me by the throat and still haven’t let go (I reread the first poem in this collection for this blog, and it was even scarier because I unlocked a little more of its meaning). I’ve also talked about Sharon Olds here. Poetry is a perfect way to inject your Halloween with atmosphere. This article on Lit Reactor has more fantastic suggestions.
Horror in the Classics
Dracula
Now I knew going in that this novel is horror. I guess I just wasn’t expecting…well, horror. I feel like Hollywood has desensitized me with jump scares and Frankenstein creations of mismanaged lore and urban legend. But Dracula reminded me vampires can be scary, that they actually ARE monsters. Which makes sense, since Dracula is the OG of the vampire myhthos–as original as we’re getting in this post anyway, and most everything after are watered down reinterpretations.
Parts of this novel lured a visceral reaction from me. The narrative structure definitely makes it a work of psychological horror, which always sticks fast with me (House of Leaves, Bird Box, A Head Full of Ghosts). The narrators’ heads, as they face down the monster, are our landscape and it’s just as rich as the physical landscape.
Have you read any of these novels, and were you at all surprised by the horror? Feel free to leave additional suggestions for books or poems that gave you unexpected chills.
I hope everyone has a safe, horror-filled Halloween, and at least one evening curled up with a blanket and a scary read in hand.
Ashley B. Davis 
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