Big CNs. For Queerphobia, Transphobia, Dysphoria, Abusive Parent, Domestic Abuse, Body Horror, Blood, Biting, Nightmare Babies, TERFs, and Massive, Massive Gender Feels!

Right up top, I'm going to say I'm a fan of Willow's YouTube channel, though I don't watch as often as I should, and I bought this book and joined their Patreon when I first saw this come out, and I will absolutely be bumping up my membership to get the chapters of her novel as they come out based on just how much I absolutely loved this, just as soon as I make a dent in my library books and charity shop addiction. I always knew I would get a kick out of this and would absolutely be polite and supportive, but I never expected to be so viscerally effected and adore these stories the way I do!

Reading these stories feels like an incredible insight to Heath's heart and anxieties, as she explores themes of the transgender experience, from dysphoria, transphobia, and the ever-present fear of violence to self-hatred, rejection from those who should love us unconditionally, and a truly disturbing realisation of just what kind of Lovercraftian monsters TERFs make us out to be; the uniquely strange pedestal and sense of responsibility that can be thrust upon indie creators with no real support or safety net to deal with extremity, the self-delusional violence and hatred of bigots and the insanity of their lies, and the tragic, haunting echo of trauma.

I'm also trans femme and a big fan of horror, so a lot of these stories got their filthy, fabulous claws into the depths of my being and ripped me a new one in so many refreshingly new and intimately awful (complimentary) ways.

Nearly every story is told in a non-traditional, or at least in a format other than straight prose, with diary entries, video comments and social media DMs, text messages and phone calls, and a play script with figurative and literal meta-commentary, to mention a few. This and the Queer horror and emotion of it all reminded me of Carmen Maria Machado's glorious collection, Her Body and Other Parties, which is not a comparison I make lightly, and only just realised the title, Managing and Other Lies, may be alluding to? Regardless, both are exquisite anthologies that push the boundaries of story structure and lance a variety of Queer, feminine fury and agony.

The entire collection is sensational and I cannot recommend you picking it up and taking a chance on a self-published trans femme stuck on TERF island, but I will review each other stories here too.

Managing

Wow.

My AuDHD often makes the beginning of stories, particularly those in different formats, difficult, so I took a minute to warm up to this tale told through diary entries, but once I did the slowburn gothic-dysphoric horror crept up on me, slipped under my skin, and took my by the throat!

The conscious and unconscious explorations of gender and transition rang so true with my own experiences and neuroses. The imagery of the protagonist suffering, wrestling with dysphoria; giving up bloody parts of themself to womanhood and facing the anger and violence of man, as well as the house that requires so much work they haunt and echo through (if only weedkiller would work on my face!), skewered me deeply.

The story made my skin crawl and heart thump for all the right reasons. It also meant the world to me as a trans femme fan of horror, to see the trans experience not played for laughs or the very nature of who and what we are being presented as horrific and degenerate, while at the same time not being being a saccharine or sanitised exploration and realising of the horrors we experience inside and out, not because of who we are, but due to how we are perceived and treated in society.

Chloe.Claire1

Told in the form of video comments, replies, and social media DMs, this story uses the parasocial distance and weight of responsibility having an audience can have, especially when tragic fans fixate and elevate a creator to be their light in the dark. The way Heath conveys the ability of saccharine support and praise when taken the nth degree can become something intensely sinister and suffocating is incredible.

As an autistic person with C-PTSD who doesn't always know where the line between social, parasocial, oversharing, and trauma dumping, I felt like this story was coming for me!

My own neurotic dread, coupled with some disturbing similarities of experience with a very difficult mother and distant sisters, only fueled the bittersweet build up to a dramatic and all too real ending that wasn't what I expected.

A Mother's Love

This is a short play of a trans woman going to stay with her transphobic mother. It is also so very much more than this with director's notes that serve as a meta-commentary, mansplaining and criticising the writer of the script (whether this is Heath the author of the anthology or the script author within the anthology) that serves as another note in the emotional chord whose root note is the mother, with the drama mask-wearing 'wanking clown' who occupies another superposition in the play, seen only by Cassandra and the Director, but physically effecting the piece with his blocking*, being the third. Together they create a heartbreaking tone.

I am flummoxed by how innovative and brilliant this is and would be fascinated to see a cast bring it to life.

*You have no idea how smug and accomplished this double entendre made me.

We Understand Each Other Perfectly

It was at this point I truly came to appreciate Heath's devastating power of foreboding and unsettling. I truly can't put my finger on exactly why and what made me feel so uncomfortable from the get go, but I truly was not expecting this hitchhiking runaway story to end up where it did. Bloody. Hell!

I was reading this sat in the back of an Oxfam Books on my first day volunteering, unable to get on the computer, waiting to get inducted, and left with nothing to do but wait and amuse myself. My eyes were like dinner plates and I was absolutely freaking out. I think the charity shop backroom ambiance really added to this wild experience.

Without giving too much away, I want to say how absolutely shocked I was by the ending. It was truly unique and indescribable 'Did she really write that?' 'Is she allowed to do that?!' absurd moments that genuinely feels like a line of demarkation in my life. Of fucking course you can! But you have to have some serious big girl knickers to fucking do it. The catharsis and empowerment I feel to write whatever the fuck I want or need I felt reading this I cannot accurately convey.

Baby

This is an absolute fucking nightmare.

This thoroughly heebied my jeebies and creeped me out beyond belief.

The way this story harnesses the insidious power of internalised transphobia and self-hatred, and the shakes it up with the heinous surrealism of the lies bigots tell creates one hell of a short, punchy eldritch horror cocktail.

Gods. Damn!

Little Blue Sticky Notes

The final story is also the most traditional of Heath's hamper of horror, but that doesn't mean it is any less powerful.

This is a wonderful work of modern gothic horror that grapples with domestic abuse, trauma, and how their ghosts echo through our lives even when we try to purge ourself of memories and mementos.

This is a truly remarkable collection that has horrified and inspired me beyond belief. I cannot wait to see more from Heath!