It is finally upon us. Halloween is almost here! And while it isn’t quite the same this year, what with an actual horror movie plot playing out in the real world, there is still fun to be had.

Fun with books!

Yes, yes, I know. We’ve already given you lists of both fiction and nonfiction spooky season reads, but those posted, like, two weeks ago, which is a very long time in social distancing land. Plus, I’m sure what you’re looking for in the remaining lead up is what I was looking for: creepy loading (think of it as the psychological equivalent of carbo-loading in preparation for disposing of the leftover candy).

These atmospheric reads will definitely get you in the right mood for All Hallows’ Eve and though none of them are short, they all share the ability to grab you like a demon claiming a body and refuse to be exorcised until you’ve finished the last page. It’s almost like they… put a spell on you or something.

Home Before Dark by Riley Stager

This one is a riff on the Amityville Horror story, and it’s a ton of fun. It plays with just about every popular horror trope at one point or another, and not a single one lands where you’d expect, which is part of what’s so joyfully absurd about the book as a whole.

And yes, I know that’s a strange way to describe a story that still manages to achieve maximum creepy, but there you have it. And the ending… oh, my friends, the ending. I actually yelled, “Oh, fuck!” loudly and emphatically enough that my husband came to make sure I hadn’t chopped off a finger or something. I’m a decent enough reader and writer at this point that I can usually predict at least the general shape of a finale, but this one… nope. Not even close.

My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix

I’ve had My Best Friend’s Exorcism on hold at the library since I finished The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires (which if you click the link above you’ll find on my other spooky season list), and it came to me at exactly the right time. I was in a bit of a reading slump, having started three and been able to get into exactly zero of them. I was starting to think it was me. Then I started this delightful 80s nostalgia trip with a healthy helping of parental satanic panic that had me reliving my mom’s horror at my shades-of-black closet and the fact that she banned us from watching The Wonder Years because she saw the episode where Wayne vacuumed up Kevin’s hamster and suddenly, all I wanted to do was read. The way Hendrix casually injects the supernatural into the false gentility of the South never fails to both poke my funny bone and ring my alarm bells on what the actual horrors of society are. (Hint: no matter how bad the monsters are, the people are worse.)

Where the Wild Ladies Are by Matsuda Aoko (translated by Polly Barton)

Often, when I read books in translation, I feel as though I’m missing a fundamental understanding of the text and therefore, the story. I didn’t have that feeling with Where the Wild Ladies Are, so huge kudos to Barton.

A review I read of Where the Wild Ladies Are suggested the adapted folktales within weren’t particularly scary; I didn’t check the reviewer’s name, but after reading the collection, I have to assume it was a man because as a woman, I found them terrifying. Each story reminded me that I live in a world where the prevailing attitude is that my body – that I – am available for general consumption. That I don’t really belong to myself and that I won’t until I die. That only in an afterlife, if  the afterlife is real – after I’m worn down to a skeleton or a host – will I have the autonomy to decide who gets to touch my body or decide how my body is used.

If you don’t think that’s terrifying, then you haven’t ever spent time in a body that identifies as female.

Manga Yokai Stories: Ghostly Tale from Japan by Lafcadio Hearn as retold by Sean Michael Wilson and illustrated by Inko Ai Takita

Lafcadio Hearn was an Irish-Greek writer who lived in Japan from 1890 until his death in 1904. With the help of his Japanese wife Setsu, he collected Japanese stories and wrote them down and is today considered one of the first authors to bring Japanese ghost stories to the West. In this collection are seven of those stories – some tragic, some with a hint of comedy, and some downright creepy.

Women Make Horror: Filmmaking, Feminism, Genre edited by Alison Peirse

Women have always made horror, but somehow, they’ve been left out of the scholarly, critical, and industrial commentary on the genre. They’ve also been a large part of the audience and critics, but there’s also been a lack of attention where those roles are concerned. And yet, they’ve remained committed to exploring the ways in which horror allows for the deconstruction of social and cultural ideas of gender, femininity, sexuality, and the body.

Women Make Horror gives space not only to the commentary that’s been ignored but also to the reasons why women have had to fight to be heard where the genre is concerned – with case studies from North America, Latin America, Europe, East Asia, and Australia.

Quick! Go! You still have some time before Halloween is over! Plenty of time!