I will always go for a horror anthology written exclusively by women. Why? *sigh*
I had the honor(?) of reading submissions to an extreme horror publication some time ago and I cannot begin to tell you how jaded, disappointed, and downright freaking disgusted the experience left me.
I learned during my time as a reader that modern man’s idea of horror is nothing more than every horrible thing that can be done to women. Ninety percent of the submissions I read were rape fantasies, which made me recoil so hard from the genre that I couldn’t bring myself to write or read horror for a long time.
But then I had the opportunity to read for a women-in-horror competition and I realised my disillusionment wasn’t with the genre, it was with the men. I think I kinda of assumed horror belonged to men – because that’s what they’d have us believe. Approaching horror through a strictly female gaze renewed my love for the genre and, better, validated my own experiences (in horror and without.)
Dastardly Damsels (2024) from Crystal Lake Publishing recognizes the need to carve out a place in horror exclusively for women. Better, it gives them room within that place to explore their darker sides. A place to embrace their inner baddies.
And THATS the horror I’ve been yearning for.
As with any anthology, I’d be doing the book a disservice if I offered an overall rating without looking at each individual story. So let’s do that.
“Thy Neighbor” by Nancy Holder (5/5) challenges expectations and offers an amusingly satisfying twist.
“Moth Girl” by Katie Young (4/5) is, frankly, disturbing as fuck, creating an image that’s as haunting as it is warped.
“Caught Out” by Rose Blackthorne (3/5) is an unexpected werewolf tale that falls a little short at the end.
“Unclean Break” by L. E. Daniels (2/5) is… *sigh* a poem. You know me and my prejudice against including both poetry and fiction in the same antho.
“Lucille Sings the Blues” by H. R. Boldwood (4/5) offers a “What the…?” that becomes an “Oh, clever!”
“She” by Gerri Leen (5/5) is the sapphic story of a mad scientist that blurs the line between lover and creator.
“Matilda’s Mourning” by Donna J. W. Munro (4/5) offers twisted logic and a desire for happiness that feels off kilter and uncertain.
“The Hollow Tree” by Nemma Wollenfang (4/5) gives victims their revenge – and it’s satisfyingly nasty.
“Turn Around, Bright Eyes” by Rie Sheridan Rose (3/5) offers a secret glimpse into the lives of goddesses while exposing gods’ truths.
“The Roxy Special” by Rowan Hill (2/5) normalises violence against women in a way that doesn’t quite sit with the rest of the book.
“Return Policy” by Claire Davon (2/5) is a stumbling block for me because I can’t make head nor tail of it.
“Dark Moon Devoted” by Jezzy Wolfe(4/5) is a reminder that you should never call on Hekate unless you mean it.
“A Veil Of Darkness In Tower Nigh” by Mary Genevieve Fortier (4/5) is a poem that actually works because it tells a story.
Every anthology has one, and “In Dire Straits” by Alisha Rath (1/5) is mine: the story I HATE. It’s far too long, too judgemental, and awfully woman-hating for a collection of this nature.
“Revenge Is…” by Yvonne Mason (3/5) is less dastardly and more domestic, dealing with the concepts of abuse and freedom.
“Too Close To The Edge” by Rosalind Pace (3/5) is another tale of a victim getting her revenge.
“Excisor” by Rue Carney (5/5) is Fae as fuck and one that I want more of.
“Full Moon Mother” by Kay Leslie Reeves (4/5) is another poem. It wins points for being about werewolves but loses them for being unresolved.
“Unafraid” by Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert (4/5) is a warning to be careful what you wish for.
“Silver Strands” by Patricia Miller (5/5) is a gloriously strange little fairytale of monsters trapped in stitches.
“Tell Me About Your Fourth Wife” by Alex T. Singer (5/5) is truly dastardly and earns a “Yas! Get it, gurl!” from me.
“The Gladiatrix” by Aelth Faye (5/5) surprises by being a visceral blend of history and sci-fi.
“The Trial of Ms. White” by Nora B. Peevy (3/5) is a modern fairytale mashup that gets kind of messy.
“The Woman In The Woods” by Sarah Jane Huntington (5/5) is pure life goals. If I’m not befriending a family of bigfoots in my old age, what is it all for?
“Mergers and Acquisitions” by Elaine Pascale (4/5) approaches business in a unique (and surprisingly disturbing) way.
“I Won’t Die Alone” by Naching T. Kassa (4/5) asks whether death is chasing us – or if we’re chasing death.
“Red Lipstick” by Valerie B. Williams (5/5) is a simple but effective take on the old abusive spouse story.
“Farm Wife” by Nancy Kilpatrick (4/5) reminds us that women just get on with it ’cause we’ve got shit to do!
“The God of Sea And Land” by Christina Sng (5/5) is another poem but wins me over by virtue of telling a good story.
“Endra – From Memory” by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro (3/5) attempts to be exotic, but ends up feeling dull.
“The Final Girl” by Mia Dalia (3/5) looks at what becomes of the final girl when the killer’s story ends but hers continues.
“Death Warmed Over” is by Rachel Caine (4/5) – quite a big name for an indie publisher to land in an antho. Her story is good, but not so dastardly.
I appreciate what Dastardly Damsels does for women in horror – but it’s frustratingly heavy on female victims and light on proper female villains. Though it’s an enjoyable anthology, it could be a lot more dastardly.
Dastardly Damsels offers exactly what women who love horror need, but falls just short of actually delivering it. The standout stories are the ones with female villains, rather than just victims getting their own back. Horror is full of male killers who are just… bad. Why do women always need to justify their badness? If men can be bad for the sake of being bad, so can we. Let us.
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐ (3/5 stars)
