Mothers Day Horror Recommendations
Because nothing says I love you more than book recs
Today is mothers day in the UK. A day for celebrating the women who raised us, shaped us, and thankfully (hopefully) refrained from abandoning us at the nearest bus stop. Being the favourite child, I did of course partake in the time-honoured tradition of delivering a shockingly (but lovingly) made breakfast in bed, but I really can’t think of a tribute she’d LOVE more than a horror blog post for the occasion.
The sub-genre is ripe for horror. Whether it’s the sheer existential dread of raising a tiny, helpless little human who depends on you for survival… one that may one day morph into something unrecognisable (a teenager for example), or the subversion of the nurturing role of a mum, other mommy style, horror fiction has long understood that the maternal bond is both sacred and nightmarish- and I’d love to highlight just a few of my favourites.
Pregnancy Horror: Horror starts at conception
”Deliver Me,” by Elle Nash follows DeeDee, who works at a chicken factory and is in a deeply strange relationship with her boyfriend “Daddy,” an exotic insect dealer. It seems to be a small mercy that DeeDee finds herself unable to get pregnant, no matter how desperately she wants it. Things are decidedly less merciful when DeeDee’s childhood friend Sloane returns to the area, and is going to have a baby. This one hurtles toward an inevitable conclusion. Dig our feet in, scream, and cry as we might, we are unable to look away, and Nash refuses to let us.
“Witchcraft for Wayward Girls,” by Grady Hendrix is a macabre acknowledgment of the (continuing) sins of the deep south. It follows Neva who at the age of 15 in 1969, finds herself pregnant. As opposed to supporting her through what is an undeniably difficult process, her family abandon her at a “Home for Unwed Mothers,” a thing of the not so distant past. Whilst there, the teenage protagonists find themselves leant a book that teaches them some magic tricks, but whilst readers come for the black cats and brooms, they stay for the cutting social commentary. A cautionary tale and rallying cry, Hendrix pulls this off with respect, nuance and a whole lot of flair.
I’m not going to go on and on about “Rosemary’s Baby,” and its utterly terrible sequel, because I imagine it’s the first that sprung to mind for many. It follows the titular Rosemary who becomes pregnant and increasingly certain that her new neighbours are out to get her. It’s a classic for a reason.
“Chouette,” by Claire Ohsetky is for readers looking for something a little weirder. It follows Tiny who is utterly convinced that what is growing inside her is an “owl-baby.” Her concerns are brushed off by her lawyer husband, however as the foetus grows, she finds herself beginning to lose autonomy. An examination of instinct, anxiety and a prime example of an unreliable narrator, “Chouette,” is nothing short of a triumph.
Speaking of triumphs, “Such Sharp Teeth,” by Rachel Harrison is just that. It follows Rory Morris who reluctantly ditches a lavish lifestyle in Manhattan to come home and care for her pregnant twin Scarlett. A novel that offsets such dark content with a light-hearted and humorous tone, there are various parallels drawn between the isolation, anxiety and self-hatred Rory encounters when she begins to “change,” and her pregnant sister's feelings. It’s a little more subtle, but it’s there, and most importantly, it’s a great book.
One that’s currently only on the TBR, but I have incredibly high hopes for, is “The Vile Thing We Created,” by Robert P. Ottone. It follows a couple who decide that it’s time to start a family, however since becoming pregnant, Lola begins noticing strange things. This one seems to also tackle postpartum depression. Whilst I’m yet to pick it up, Ottone is an author I can vouch for, and I’m very eager to dive in.
I’m ALSO desperate to pick up “Generation,” by Nat Cassidy, I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read by him, but “When The Wolf Comes Home,” is an utter triumph and I’m craving more. I know nothing about this one, and it’s incredibly short, so I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll share the synopsis however, and you MAY get the gist.
“When expecting a new baby, it's normal to have questions.
What will my baby look like?
What if I'm not ready?
What if it's not human?
What if this is happening all over?
What if this is the end of the world?
When expecting a new baby, it's normal to be scared.”
CREEPY RIGHT?!
Post-partum Horror: No Sleep ‘Til Nursery
“The Yellow Wallpaper,” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman is probably about the same length as this blog-post, and a superb, feminist gothic that is well before its time. Having had various nervous break-downs following the birth of her child, our protagonist is locked away by her husband in the nursery, of which the walls are decorated with yellow wallpaper- needless to say, that doesn’t do a whole lot of good for her mental health. A book that will enrage within pages, if you have 15 minutes, I encourage you to read this today.
“Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke,” by Eric Larocca is another that can be read in a single sitting, but where “The Yellow Wallpaper,” is subtle and harrowing, this one is explicit, violent and extreme. An epistolary that follows Agnes and Zoe, who form an online relationship, Agnes begins performing tasks in order to “deserve her eyes that day.” As their dangerous relationship spirals, Agnes finds herself yearning to have Zoe’s child- and that she does… kinda…but at what cost? This is a novella that refuses to fit into any box, but the real horror hits hard and fast at the end, with the arrival of Agnes’ “son.”
“The Fifth Child,” by Doris Lessing follows Harriet and David whose lives change drastically when they welcome their… fifth child into the world. A novel about conformity and conflict, “Ben,” is not like his other siblings, and Harriet is not sure that she can accommodate him. The horror is subtle but existential: is it even possible to be a good-enough mother?
Julia Fine’s “The Upstairs House,” follows our protagonist Megan, who after the birth of her baby, finds herself haunted by the seemingly benevolent spirit of dead children’s author Margaret Wise Brown and her husband. Things get rather bonkers, and this book is full of bizarre love triangles, aches and pains, and the destructive, discombobulating and disorienting nature of pregnancy. As far as post-partum horror goes, this is as fun as it gets.
“Dearest,” by Jacquie Walters is another that is on my tbr, and after a little research, it’s very near the top of my list. It follows Flora who delivers baby Iris a few weeks premature, and is absolutely take with her new daughter. Slowly but surely however, reality begins to blur, and Flora is drowning. Luckily, or not, her estranged mother turns up to help her out. A novel that seemingly focuses on both generational trauma and post-partum psychosis I can’t wait to pick this one up!
Whilst we’re on the subject of books that I’m sure I’ll love but haven’t yet read, “Nightbitch,” by Rachel Yoder is another that really seems to fit this brief. And there’s a film now?! What am I doing! It follows a stay at home mum, who on occasion may or may not turn into a dog. Sold. Done. Moving on.
“Mommy Fearest”
My personal favourite category! Josh Malerman’s “Other Mommy,” is an obvious example, but I can’t help myself so… “Incidents Around The House,” follows eight year old Bela and her family. Mommy and Daddo have their own issues, but they seem to disappear when Bela tells them that “Other Mommy,” lives in her closet, and she wants to go into her heart. This scared the bejeesus out of me, it will scare the bejeesus out of you, and it deserves every ounce of hype that it gets.
In Ania Ahlborn’s “Brother,” Michael is desperate to flee his family. The Morrows, headed by their matriarch, like to play with their food. Girls find themselves lost in the woods, abducted and eaten, and, for reasons obvious to you and me, Michael doesn’t find the same pleasure in this that they do, especially when he meets Alice and begins to fall in love. Michael’s mother, along with his brother Rebel are nasty pieces of work, and the ending of this is nothing short of devastating.
Margaret White is single-handedly the scariest element of “Carrie,” and that’s actually all that I have to say on this one.
“Motherthing,” by Ainslie Hogarth is a deeply funny, slightly scary domestic horror in which Abby’s life finally starts to go right. She settles down with Ralph and is planning to start a family, when the vengeful ghost of her vile mother Laura rocks up. Stream of consciousness in style, and truly baffling this one is witty and sure ain’t pretty.
“Bitter is the Heart,” by Mina Hardy follows Tamar who at the age of 18 fled her abusive mother Ruth. One night she wakes to find her standing over her bed. For me, the atmosphere that Hardy manages to build is the point of reference for literary jumpscares done well. A meditation on generational trauma that contains one of the most detestable and malicious characters I’ve ever had the displeasure of reading about, this one is what I call a banger.
If you are taking notes, do yourself a favour and make sure that you pick this one up around Christmas time. Jennifer McMahon’s “My Darling Girl,” contains similar themes to “Bitter is The Heart,” but has the added bonus of a potential demonic possession. When Mavis is diagnosed with cancer, Allison feels obliged to invite her estranged mother to stay, however when her children begin to act strangely, eyebrows are raised as to who or what Mavis really is. McMahon is one of my favourite authors, and “My Darling Girl,” is truly terrifying… but also Christmassy!
Johanna Van Veen’s “My Darling Dreadful Thing,” contains a mother who is absent for the bulk of the novel, but so vile and disgusting that she played on my mind throughout. An intense historical, sapphic gothic, we follow Roos who is whisked away from her abusive mother to live with wealthy widow Agnes Knoop. Agnes takes in not only our protagonist but her yoki Ruth, who is long dead and fiercely protective.
Bite-sized horror for busy mums:
Before I love you and leave you, I wanted to very briefly touch on some short story collections that at various points cover themes of motherhood. I’ll start with Emma E Murray’s “The Drowning Machine and Other Obsessions,” which is a collection united by the theme of love. Much of that love is maternal, and it brought tears to my eyes at various points. From bad mums to grieving mums to really-want-to-be mums, this one should be on your list.
Kristi Demeester’s “Everything That’s Underneath,” also features a theme of motherhood. In “The Tying of Tongues,” a teenage girl becomes a witch, in “The Marking,” a mother realises the entity she worships wants her child, so on and so forth. This was Demeester’s debut collection, and whilst I only read it recently, I am adamant that had I picked it up when it released in 2017, I’d have known then and there just how much of a horror heavyweight she’d become.
A collection even Kafka would find a little strange “Cursed Bunny,” by Bora Chung has a few stories worth mentioning too! “The Embodiment,” follows a virgin who finds herself pregnant and even “Goodbye my love,” tackles the hardship of bringing something into the world. This book is like marmite, and love it or hate it, I can guarantee you won’t forget it.
On that note, I’d like to wish every mother reading this, the happiest of mothers days, and everyone else, happy reading.