Women In Horror Year
Yesterday was the last day of Women In Horror Month, which means that from now until next March 1st, most people will stop spotlighting the women who make up part of Horror Fiction's rich history and legacy.
In an ideal world, we wouldn't need a Women In Horror Month, because people would talk about and celebrate women in horror throughout the year. And to be fair, many folks do just that. I say this as someone who has been in this business long enough to remember the very first Women In Horror Month. Fans, readers, critics, and other authors spotlight books and stories by women far more now throughout the year than they ever have in our genre's past.
But as far as the actual Women In Horror Month goes? Well... for one month, your social media feed is positively full of such accolades and recommendations, and then, if the vagaries of the algorithms hold sway (and if you've been reading this Blog then you know that they will) such content will vanish from your feed fairly quickly, replaced by whatever terrible outrage is taking place today or perhaps a more palatable video of a cute kitten that may or may not be generated via AI.
This year, I didn't specifically set out to focus on Women In Horror Month, for a couple of reasons. One, I was busy with DEAD FORMAT and getting things ready for my youngest's upcoming graduation and acceptance into college, and I just really haven't been very active online. Two, I felt that it might come off as performative (which people will accuse you of regarding anything you do when you reach a certain level of professional fame or notoriety. Stub your toe and cringe in pain? There are nuts who will say you're being performative and your privilege allows you to do so. And knowing myself and my current frustration with the state of the world, if somebody mouthed off like that I was going to have a go at them, and then it would become 'Brian Keene Ruins Women In Horror Month By Nuking Half Of Social Media', and that's not good for anybody). And thirdly, (and I'm aware some people will call this self-serving or tooting my own horn, and those people can go jump in front of a gas truck) I think I've got a pretty good thirty year track record of supporting and recommending the women in our field. I do it year round. I don't need a month on a calendar to remind me to do it.
But I was, in fact, mulling over why Women in Horror month felt... off ... to me this year. And I was talking with authors Gemma Amor and Sarah Read last week on Threads, and learned they felt something similar. Sarah said (in part): "It feels different this year. Less like a celebration, More like a plea. This year it feels like we lost ground and are pushing forward from well behind where we’ve been before. At least, that’s how it feels to me."
She's not wrong.
It's a tough time to be an American right now. Hell, it's a tough time to be a citizen of Earth. But it is a particularly tough time to be a woman. Women's rights are being rolled back or revoked in countries around the world, including some right here in the good ol' U.S. of A. There are many who want to help but they feel powerless to actually do anything. Protesting feels futile. Voting seems laughable at this point. All of the other options lead to just more terribleness on top of what is already terrible.
And Sarah's words keep coming back to me.
I decided last week that I'm going to celebrate Women in Horror Year. It's not performative, but it is absolutely me throwing my privilege up onto the table. Every day for the next year, I'm going to spotlight a horror novel by a woman here on Algorithm Zero, and then offer a weekly recap in Letters From the Labyrinth. And I'm not going to talk about the fact that they are women, because you're an idiot if you don't understand that. Them being women shouldn't matter. What matters are the books. So I'm going to talk about the books. Each of them will be a book I have personally read and enjoyed over the years.
It's one way to help. It's one way to jump in behind that metaphorical boulder that Sarah eludes to and shove it well past where we've been before. I'm aware of just how much of an audience I command, and while I have always used that space to point you not only at my stuff but at the works of my peers and at things of importance that impact our genre, I'm going to focus on books and stories by the women of this genre, past and present, for the next 365 days.
We'll start today with this book (which I talked about two days ago in my newsletter).
Laurel Hightower told me about an advance reading copy of a novel called Died by Izzy Von that she’d just finished reading, and suggested that — since the novel pretty much upends everything that’s been done with zombies and the undead for the last 25 years — I might dig it, since 25 years ago I pretty much upended everything that had been done with zombies and the undead up to that point. I agreed that it sounded like something I should read, so Laurel asked Izzy if she could forward the advance reading copy to me.
And I’m so glad she did.
Died is, quite simply the best zombie novel I've read in a long time. It is a groundbreaking, transformative work, and goes so far beyond the old zombie tropes that it ends up inventing something exciting and brand new. Without giving too much away, there are different kinds of dead. Intrusive thoughts and things like OCD and PTSD play a role, both consciously and subconsciously, and that only serves to increase the dread. As someone with some loved ones who struggle with those things, it was a harrowing and heartbreaking read. It also has some masterfully done gore and splatter. Highly recommended. One of those rare books that — if enough readers find it — could easily pull off the trifecta of being nominated for a Bram Stoker Award, a Splatterpunk Award, and a Wonderland Award.
Died is available in eBook on April 28th. You can pre-order it here (for the eBook reader of your choice).
