My November in reading

November is still spooky season, in my opinion. And I got through even more spooky books in November than I did in October.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

I hadn’t read this one since high school, and I forgot how gay it was (complimentary). You know the story: youthful hot guy Dorian gets his portrait painted by his friend Basil, the flippant Lord Henry Watton convinces Dorian that youth and beauty is everything, and then the portrait starts aging while Dorian maintains his good looks, even as he becomes increasingly hedonistic and cruel. All this could have been avoided if Dorian and Basil had just kissed in the first place. Thanks to the Phoebe Reads a Mystery podcast for bringing Wilde’s little story back into my sphere!

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

This queer horror novel has the best tagline I’ve seen in ages: “The end of the world is nuts.” Felker-Martin has written a post-apocalyptic zombie novel with a twist: the disease in question only affects people who were assigned male at birth. Trans women or nonbinary folks can avoid the disease by continuing to take their hormones—which are increasingly difficult to find—or by eating testicles, which are a good source of estrogen. Trans survivors Beth and Fran harvest testicles and bring them back to their friend Indi, who has the medical training to refine the estrogen and help the trans community at large. But if the ever-growing TERF army has anything to do with it, the protagonists and their friends won’t survive for long. This novel was truly disgusting, and I mean that as a hearty compliment. I could practically smell it. Definitely recommend this one, as long as you have a strong stomach.

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Another year with the Dracula Daily newsletter! Dracula is an epistolary novel, and from May to November I get each day’s diary entries, letters, or newspaper clippings sent directly to my inbox. Glad to report the Count is as comically evil as ever, and my crush on Quincey Morris is still going strong. I look forward to visiting all the characters again in 2024.

House of Cotton by Monica Brashears

We published Monica Brashears a few years back at Split Lip, so I was excited to read her debut novel. And I’m happy to report my excitement was warranted! House of Cotton is a Southern Gothic as rich and suffocating as the garden soil at Mama Brown’s place—Mama Brown who recently passed, leaving her teenage granddaughter Magnolia broke and alone. Then a stranger named Cotton comes along, offering Magnolia a new gig at his funeral home: impersonating the dead. The plot is good, but Brashears’ prose is even better. Don’t miss this one.

The Two Doctors Górski by Isaac Fellman

Last year I read—and loved—Fellman’s novel Dead Collections, so I couldn’t wait to read this novella, a magical and psychological twist on Shelley’s Frankenstein. Instead of building a creature from human scraps, famed magician Marec Górski brings his better self to life—and his career never recovers. Years later, Annae comes to England to study under Górski in the wake of academic abuse. If you like campus stories and fantastic reimaginings, this book is for you.

Jawbone by Mónica Ojeda (translated by Sarah Booker)

As far as I can tell, the best horror writing these days is coming from South America. Ojeda’s novel features one of my favorite subgenres: the horror of adolescence. When a bunch of teenage girls at the prestigious Delta Bilingual Academy get bored, they obviously commandeer an abandoned building and form their own cult based on their favorite online creepypastas. As their rituals become increasingly violent, one of their teachers—who happens to be struggling with her mental health—takes notice. Cosmic horror on a Lovecraftian scale ensues. This book was terrifying, and Booker’s translation was out of this world.

Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (narrated by Gisela Chípe)

I listened to this audiobook on the long drive from Kentucky to New Mexico, and the propulsive, suspenseful plot kept me very much awake. Montserrat and her best friend Tristán are an odd couple: she’s an antisocial sound editor for films, and he’s a washed up but still charming actor, blacklisted after the untimely death of his soap opera costar and girlfriend. When they stumble upon director Abel Urueta—legendary for his underground horror films—they get much more than they bargained for: namely a Nazi-infested magical cult that wants to bring its leader back from the dead. Horror at its finest—which doesn’t surprise me. Every book I’ve read by Moreno-Garcia has been great.

White Cat, Black Dog by Kelly Link

What is even the point of writing a review of Kelly Link’s work? No one is doing it like her. Everything she writes is on another level. These short stories are based on classic fairytales, but her interpretations are emotionally and philosophically expansive. They’re also wonderfully weird. I hope that in a century or two, Kelly Link is as famous as Wharton or Wilde is now.