October's Spilled Milk

What I've been reading, doing, loving in October

Nov 01, 2024

Spilled Milk is my monthly wrap up where I talk about some of my favourite things from the last month. Things I’m reading, enjoying, looking forward to—sort of anything floating my boat.

Here is an overview of how my month went:

I saw Maggie Rogers in Toronto and, as suspected, it was a religious experience!
More on this later, I have a little essay about live music in my drafts 😇
I got a piece published in issue 1.1 of Infinite Scroll
It’s a cute little thing!!
This season of Survivor has been so so good
I went to Toronto and became obsessed with their transit system (the streetcar is so cool???)
Went to a wedding wearing a denim jacket instead of a blazer, and it worked!
Very What Would Jenna Lyons Do
Started talking about my favourite non-bookish things on TikTok 🤠

The following is a list of some more things I couldn’t get enough of.

What I Read

Below is a rundown of every book I read in the month of October. I’ll be adding a star next to my standouts, like a starred review where a star isn’t a 1 to 5 scale, it just means good!

I very softly launched a Youtube channel, but am slipping, sliding back down cringe mountain. Before the written ramblings, here is a video version of my monthly wrap up if you’re more of a visual person:

Fever Dream by Samantha Schweblin

This is a tiny sliver of a novel with an apt title. The whole thing reads like a fever dream, and toes the line between intentionally hazy and downright confusing in the most thrilling way.

The story starts with a woman lying in a hospital bed and a young boy sitting by her side. Together, they recount a strange tale only one of them seems to have a grasp on. It plays with memory and recollection, and how both of these are unique to each person (what sticks out to one, may not stick out to the other).

I loved the palpable fear and presence of danger that looms throughout the whole novel. It really builds from a slow simmer to boiling point.

The Diving Pool by Yoko Ogawa

The Diving Pool is a collection of three novellas with sharp, simple and effective writing by the author of The Memory Police (which I haven’t read… should I?).

The stories all have a strange premise: A young girl watches her foster brother dive, a girl tracks her sister’s pregnancy in a diary, and a woman visits her old college dorm. Innocuous at face value, but they all manage to be eerie, creepy, and entrancing.

Across the three stories, there’s a really strong sense of place and embodiment—you can really hear and feel the floors creaking. So much of the tension in these novellas is built with microscopic moments. It’s a really specific take on diet literary horror.

Thirst by Marina Yuszczuk (translated by Heather Cleary) ★

I have to apologize for my part in the perpetuation of this novel’s marketing log line: ancient sapphic vampires in Buenos Aires. This isn’t entirely the right premise for what you actually get in this novel. Still, I really enjoyed this!

There are two parts to this novel: The first is about an ancient vampire arriving in Argentina, and roaming around noticing the changes in humanity as time ticks by her. The second is set in modern day Buenos Aries, and follows a woman dealing with her mother’s terminal illness and the struggles of motherhood.

Their narrative link is clear as you read, but that wasn’t the most interesting part to me. There’s a through line of loneliness, mortality, and identity from both of their perspectives that was so fascinating. A vampire story is just the backdrop for this exploration of women’s lives through time.

Living Things by Munir Hachemi (translated by Julia Sanches)

This novel is super experimental, a bit heady at times, but overall an interesting read. There’s also an instance of mismatched log lines here for me.

It’s described as a story of four men from Madrid spending a summer in the French countryside picking grapes, until things take a scary turn. To me, this book (and author) is more interested in exposing the process of documenting and recollection. The author, via the fictitious narrator but also Hachemi himself, tears the fourth wall to shreds to talk about the way he blurs fact and memory. There are even conversations between diary entries and the narrator.

Living Things was really interesting to me for its transgressive take on the novel and how much the seams have been laid bare. I don’t think this will be for everyone, but I liked it.

Voice Like a Hyacinth by Mallory Pearson ★
(Comes out January 7th, 2025)

Typically, I like to read an upcoming book closer to the release date, but I couldn’t help myself with this one. Happy to report that I loved it!

It’s set at a prestigious, secluded boarding school, and follows five young women who are all in an elite arts program. The pressure of the environment, as well as the demands on their creativity and inspiration, take such a toll on them that they turn to the occult for help.

This takes The Craft and The Secret History, makes it really queer and soaked with all sorts of horror. There’s something refreshing about a basically all gay cast of characters where it’s just a fact, not really a plot point.

I discussed the book with

Celine

, who also loved it, and the thing that struck me most when discussing it was the shifting horror—it starts as one thing, becomes another, and kept me on my toes until the end. Such a stunning book with delicious writing.

Recognizing the Stranger: On Palestine and Narrative by Isabella Hammad

A little over a week before October 7th, 2023, Isabella Hammad gave the Edward W. Said Memorial Lecture at Columbia University. This book is partially a transcript of this lecture, with an additional section of her reflections written in 2024.

Hammad speaks about the craft of writing and the way history is shaped by narrative, specifically how this applies to Palestine and the struggle for freedom.

Facts do not at all speak for themselves but require a socially acceptable narrative to absorb, sustain and circulate them

There are many passages like the above that were resonant and really affecting given the media’s treatment of the ongoing genocide. In a particularly interesting section, she talks about anagnorisis, which is a moment of revelation in narrative where something unknown becomes known to the reader and the character simultaneously. She’s so smart, and it’s such a gift to read her.

I listened to the audio book and followed along in my physical copy, which feels like a great way to experience this text. This is a must read!

Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone by James Baldwin

This is James Baldwin’s fourth novel, and the latest instalment of my Year with Baldwin series in which I’m reading all of his novels this year. So far, this has been my least favourite. As a baseline, I think it’s important for me to say that “least favourite” when it comes to a James Baldwin novel isn’t saying much—I’ve really enjoyed all of them so far.

Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone is about Leo Proudhammer, a famous actor who has a heart attack on stage at the start of the novel. What follows is a series of recollections from moments throughout his life that have shaped him.

My favourite part of the novel is Leo’s relationship with his brother that is so rich and poignant. I also found it interesting that it dissects the concept of fame and stardom, showing the nuance of an experience James Baldwin was likely on the fringes of when writing this.

While I loved Go Tell It on the Mountain and Another Country that have similar themes of race relations, exploration of sexuality and masculinity, this didn’t work for me as much as those did. At times this feels like a play because of the longwinded dialogue sequences (which is an interesting device given the narrator is a stage actor), and that made this a longer read to get through.

Still not a skip for me, but not the Baldwin I’d recommend if someone wanted to dive into his work!

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

The Only Good Indians is one of those books I’ve had my eye on since it released. Stephen Graham Jones’ style didn’t work for me as much in the past, but this did.

Four Blackfeet men are linked by a bad thing they did when they were young, and now are dealing with a spooky entity out for revenge. From there, it shifts and turns, and a really great horror story unfolds.

This novel is very vibe heavy, with a superb eeriness shining throughout. It’s almost like a classic horror novel in many ways, but has interesting cultural elements that make it a very compelling addition to the pantheon.

The Extinction of Irena Rey by Jennifer Croft ★

This novel is a commentary on translation that’s taken so far it comes back around to being perfectly calibrated. Jennifer Croft is a very successful translator and applies all of that experience to this project.

At face value, this is the story of a group of translators who visit their shared author’s secluded home to work on her next project, and then things go awry. But the twisted genius of it is that it’s a book within a book told from the perspective of one translator, but translated by another who leaves footnotes and fingerprints of herself all over her translation. It’s twisted, petty, and has echoes of ecodystopia.

A reader could enjoy this book for its story or could read it in its layered complexity, either way it was fantastic. Big recommendation for fans of Catherine Lacey.

Queer Little Nightmares edited by David Ly & Daniel Zomparelli

This is an anthology of poetry and prose from queer authors in and about the horror genre.

I really liked this, specifically reading poetry about horror was something I didn’t know I wanted. There are some less strong pieces, but I thought it was a pretty balanced collection.

Some favourites include: Like Me by Daniel Zomparelli, The Minotaur and Theseus (and Other Bullshit) by Ben Rawluk, Nature’s Mistake by David Demchuk, and then most of the poetry too!

What I Watched & Listened To

When October rolls around, I hunker down and watch horror movie after horror movie on an endless loop. It’s the most wonderful time of year.
I don’t have many standouts other than my recurring rolodex of slasher favourites. The best thing I watched that comes to mind is Ariana Grande’s episode of SNL… I’ve been saying, “you got a tiny pecker or something?” for weeks.

Reading Goals Update

Nonfiction: I read Recognizing the Stranger and it was really great!
Poetry Collection: I read a poetry and prose anthology of queer horror, Queer Little Nightmares.
My Year with Baldwin: I finished Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone, which wasn’t my favourite Baldwin. I’m planning on reading If Beale Street Could Talk in November!

On My Bedside Table

A dispatch from my bedside table and the books that litter it, hoping to be read soon.

From Here to the Great Unknown by Lisa Marie Presley and Riley Keough, this is Lisa Marie’s story in her words that was posthumously compiled by her daughter
The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai, a novel partially about the AIDS crisis in the 1980s that people yell at me in my comments for not having read yet
Permafrost by Eva Baltasar, a cynical lesbian narrator travels around Europe looking for escape
Model Home by Rivers Solomon, three siblings return to their haunted childhood home
Fathers and Fugitives by S.J. Naudé, a journalist has to reconnect with his estranged family to fulfill his father’s dying wish

Have you read any of these? Are any of these non-negotiables? Are any of them skippable?

Tell me what you think in the comments!

That’s been my month!

Until next time 🤠