A wickedly funny, adrenaline-rush of a novel about a graduate student who murders bad men and justifies it in the name of feminism, by a bold new voice in fiction
Yrsa is in a funk. She’s bored of her PhD program, bored of her research on Afropessimism, bored of the entitled undergrads she has to cater to. But most of all, she’s bored of the men in her life—especially the bad ones.
When her best friend, Nina, confesses to having an affair with her professor, and that he’s stolen her research, Yrsa is mad. On the quad, Yrsa bumps into the professor and witnesses his an unfortunate incident involving his San Pellegrino and a bee allergy. What she sees that afternoon awakens something in a taste for murder.
Emboldened, Yrsa decides to chase that high, and soon, no sexist, misbehaving man within commuting distance is safe.
With each murder, Yrsa feels a greater sense of meaning and purpose—finally, her doctoral research feels useful. But how long can killing in the name of feminist and racial solidarity justify her actions? Will her rampage ever assuage her feelings of rage and revenge? And how long until her actions—and buried family secrets—come back to haunt her?
I'm a smidge confused with this one. This is described as "wickedly funny", but I'd argue it's more serious in tone and academic than that would lead you to believe. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the more serious topics surrounding racial justice and inequality more than the otherwise silly thriller that this is pitched to be.
Unfortunately, the writing here didn't really work for me. If this had been a general fiction novel surrounding race, afropessimism, and revenge as a concept I think it would've worked a bit more for my personal taste. However, I feel like we were trying to dive so much into those topics that the thriller plot points would just kind of fall off and never be fully developed, and because we were trying to make this a thriller, it didn't dive into other topics as thoroughly as I felt like I wanted it to. A classic case of trying to do so many things that it didn't really commit to any of them.
Unfortunately, 2.75 stars rounded up from me. I look forward to seeing what else this author writes in the future!
Thanks so much to Random House and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!
I thought that this would be my new favorite unhinged female serial killer novel, but the stars weren't aligned this time.
There were funny one-liners (presented in a very British-style dry humor manner), and I really liked the discussions on being a Black academic at Cambridge. Unfortunately, most of the good stuff happened offscreen.
It wasn't until the last 25-30% that we actually see what's happening with Yrsa and her victims. I understand that it was due to the FMC's drug abuse (so she most likely was mentally checked out most of the time), but the drug abuse didn't even happen onscreen either. It was disappointing and it didn't make for an exciting read.
If you're a fan of My Year of Rest and Relaxation, then you might like this. Both feature sarcastic, disaffected, and (at times) mean FMCs who aren't satisfied with their lives and who self-destruct in unhealthy ways.
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for this arc.
Imani Thompson’s debut novel, “Honey,” is a provocatively dark thriller that takes the familiar trope of the female serial killer and subverts it with a sharp, academic lens. While the book is firmly rooted in the thriller genre—following Cambridge PhD student Yrsa as she descends into a cycle of killing “bad men”—it is notably not a mystery. The reader witnesses exactly what is happening as Yrsa executes her plans. Instead of asking who the killer is, the suspense centers on how Yrsa will pull off each increasingly bold crime and, more compellingly, where she will eventually slip up and face the consequences.
Yrsa, a student of Afropessimism, attempts to justify her escalating violence by framing it as "theory in action… a new methodology" and an act of feminist and racial solidarity. However, the novel suggests that her primary drive is less about deep-seated vigilante rage or redemption and more about a feeling of sport, or a cure for her profound boredom. This detachment gives Yrsa’s voice a dry and often sarcastic edge, providing moments of dark humor. The novel is at its most ambitious during its forays into academia, where Yrsa uses her research to intellectualize her bloodlust, challenging the reader with complex ideas about power, justice, and the limits of liberation.
Despite the high-speed pacing and intriguing characterization, the novel ultimately falters in its conclusion. While the narrative creates a mounting sense of tension that suggests Yrsa is heading toward a significant confrontation or obstacle… the ending is a letdown. That is all I will say, in the interest of avoiding spoilers.
For readers who favor intellectually dense and morally complex character explorations over traditional, neatly packaged thrillers, Honey is a striking debut. Yrsa stands out as a singular, albeit ethically questionable and often unsympathetic, lead. The novel offers a profound intellectual journey, even if it sacrifices a satisfying thriller ending.
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for providing an advance review copy in exchange for an honest review. #Honey #NetGalley
I liked this novel. The start is super gripping. It wanders a bit (aka could’ve been shorter) but is entertaining and fun. Woman behaving badly always works for me. I think some of the theory could’ve been stronger more fleshed out, but it was a good ride.
Yrsa, how do you not have bleach or gloves (because you weren't going to kill him) but you do have a lethal amount of epinephrine and a syringe? GIRL.
I am having so much fun with this, she is *messy*.
Update - gahhhh this would have been a five star, but the ending was so abrupt and unfinished! I need a conclusion! It's a me problem, Thompson is a very talented new voice and I'm excited to see what she writes next.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House Publishing for providing and ARC in exchange for honest feedback.
This is one of those books that grips you from the beginning and dares you to look away. The FMC is just fascinating - she is incredibly smart, yet deeply flawed and completely unhinged. This story touches on some fairly morally grey areas without trying to clean them up which I love! It made me uncomfortable…but in a good way. The pacing was perfect and delivered exactly what I needed when I needed it.
This is a story about a woman named Yrsa who kills a man with a bee. That’s how it starts, anyway. But really, it’s a book about control who has it, who’s taken it, and how far one woman is willing to go to reclaim it. Yrsa’s voice is sharp, academic, and restless. She is not here to be liked. She is here to think, rage, dissect, and dismantle and she invites you to watch.
The themes of Afropessimism and justice, intellectual theft and power, are heavy and rich. The book hums with ideas. But often it hums louder than it speaks. Yrsa’s inner monologue, while intellectually charged and fiercely singular, sometimes feels like trying to listen to a symphony while assembling IKEA furniture you know something important is happening, but you're not entirely sure where to put the screws.
Some plot threads start with intrigue but fade rather than resolve. And while the narrative voice is undeniably bold, the emotional core felt distant at times.
I appreciated the academic lens, especially the exploration of Afropessimism and justice, but the pacing and dialogue often left me disengaged. Some plot threads felt underdeveloped, and the emotional core didn't quite land for me. Still, Imani Thompson is clearly a bold new voice, and I'm curious to see where she goes next.
Readers drawn to character studies over clean plots, and to questions over answers, may find more sweetness in the sting than I did.
2.5/5 stars. Thank you to NetGalley, Random House, and Imani Thompson for the advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
This looks to be shaping up as a bit of a divisive book. I thought it was very good, with excellent writing, and a truly interesting character in Yrsa. I do have to disagree with the summary statement that Yrsa justifies her murders of men in the name of feminism. That is a bit misleading about what is going on here.
Yrsa has trouble feeling things, is almost anesthetized from her everyday existence, and tends to search out experiences that will inject some intensity into her emotional life. She’s had some bad things happen to her which she has never confronted or resolved, and it seems there is some family tendency towards seeking out risky encounters to stimulate feelings and obtain a kind of a temporary high. I’m certainly not qualified to diagnose the problem, but it’s pretty clear that as high functioning as the women in Yrsa’s family are, they all share a similar kind of mental illness.
Yes, Yrsa chooses men to kill and chase the high that comes from getting away with it. And she looks for a rationale for killing them to ease any moral qualms. But her main motivation is personal, and not some kind of feminist payback on men generally. She thinks more than once that men are just easier targets. In that respect, she’s like any addict and chases the quickest route to getting the high she craves.
It’s a compelling story, almost exclusively character driven, and doesn’t provide pat answers, or any kind of path to ultimate redemption. The ending is not exactly nonexistent but it is vague in the sense that it is ultimately left to the imagination of the reader. So, not a lot of tidy boxes here, which may be offputting to some. Personally I enjoyed Honey, and I will certainly read Thompson’s next book. I think she’s a talented writer with a lot of potential.
Yrsa is a PhD student writing her dissertation on Afropessimism. Her best friend, Nina is having an affair with her professor and he steals Nina’s research. Yrsa is furious. Then Yrsa gets to watch him die due to his allergy to bee stings and it changes something in her…she starts chasing that high.
Feminist and fun, I enjoyed this dark academia thriller (though it bothered me throughout that I have no idea whether I’m pronouncing “Yrsa” correctly in my head.). No idea whether it will stick with me though (and, now, I mere two weeks later it’s already pretty fuzzy.)
Yrsa is certainly a morally grey and interesting character, and this novel spent a lot of time providing context for her motivation to kill. This was a twisty, funny read, and I liked the tie to her research with Afropessimism and the nuance of her being a Black woman seeking retribution. I was puzzled at her choice to constantly engage and spend time with problematic men, even in pursuit of kills, and personally found her inner monologue a bit aggravating. The ending felt rushed and I would've liked to see some threads further fleshed out. Nonetheless, this a strong debut. This will appeal to readers who enjoy diverse, feminist suspense and eccentric character studies. Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for the ARC.
Deranged yet funny. Sadistic yet sweet. I predict Yrsa is going to become one of the decade’s most controversial characters. I found the last quarter particularly powerful, especially once readers learn the back story of Yrsa's relationship with her grandmother and estrangement from school friends. This is a real sensation, particularly for a debut novel. I predict that a movie adaptation will arrive shortly.
Favorite quotes:
"DNA. Trace it back and her lines become crossed, polluted and pollinated. An Irish man and an enslaved woman, some say. The Sargasso Sea and hot work. Body work. Oranges and tobacco. A mistress, a master, a boy who decided to take a boat. Others say Egypt and the Nile to Calcutta. But it's hard to know. Back when they drew maps for the world they wanted to see. Then back before, when color wasn't color and the gods were closer to the earth. Imprints in the red soil. In land spoiled and unspoiled and spoiled again. When tongues spat different syllables and all the patterns, all the shapes, were newfound. Cinnamon to the bark. Where is she in this, in lines twisted and sequenced to their double helix. Because the dead aren't dead, they carry. Bone lines, blood lines. The bodies that the sea swallowed and dissolved and turned to sand. Is she, the maternal, stronger? Back before it was women and women and men. When it was finding feet and star worlds. Was it built on violence—or love—in the nucleus, in the chemical base of this, here, her."
"In a moment, she stands, watching the bottom of the elevator as it climbs the shaft, her mind full of men who think the entire world belongs to them. They are like dogs, marking everything in sight, and the minute a woman claims something for herself, they piss on it, too."
Yrsa is a student working on her PhD and teaching at a college. She's a bit bored, really, and is looking for little moments of highs in order to mix up her dull days. When a twist of fate offers a chance encounter with a man who recently wronged her friend, she is shocked as she watches him die from a bee sting allergy.
This whole book was shocking, well written, and fascinating in equal parts. I liked Yrsa and her yearning to define and then define again her purpose, the root of her anger, and whether seeking vengeance was justified. I liked reading her theories and philosophy as she struggled to define and write her thesis.
Each twist, as Yrsa dug deeper and then bumped in to bad men - I was shocked with each murder an each turn. The secrets were slow to reveal and I reveled in each one. There were a lot of layers to this one, and I appreciated each twisted one. The ending was abrupt and a surprise. This is one that will definitely stick with me as I ponder the things Yrsa did.
A huge thank you to the author and publisher for providing an e-ARC via Netgalley. This does not affect my opinion regarding the book.
Yrsa is a professor for a college in the UK. She is passionate about the content of her work and the trouble that women of color go through in today’s society. She begins her descent into madness because of men.
Men who she has a tendency to sleep with. She gets pleasure out of using them to fill her desires and not be used herself. She has a hard time developing feelings for people period. Whether it be men, her friends or her family. Early on it’s pretty safe to assume that she is mentally unstable, possibly sociopathic.
As the book progresses we see her snap. She is done being nice to men. Especially men who are pieces of crap in her eyes. She makes a silent vow to herself to do something about these men who she knows. In her mind they don’t deserve to live for one reason or another. Even though to a normal person those wouldn’t be reasons to murder someone.
She starts on a killing spree. Slowly she becomes a serial killer. In her mind she has a good reason as to why she’s killed each person and nothing can change that. But will she eventually feel bad for what she’s done? Or will she full steam ahead and continue her spree?
So this is the authors debut novel. I agreed to read this in exchange for an honest review through Net Galley and Random house publishing company. I think some of the chapters fell a tad flat for me. I also don’t understand this being advertised as a “funny” book. It’s not funny at all and touched on a lot of racial issues within our society in present day.
This book was dark, serious and at times disturbing. Nothing about it was comical to me. I also wished certain characters and relationships were fleshed out more. But I did enjoy Yrsa and everything she had to offer in the book. I will be keeping an eye out for more of this authors work.
The writing style feels intentionally disorienting — as if you’re being pulled back and forth through Yrsa’s thoughts in real time. The structure mirrors her inner world, creating an intimate (and at times unsettling) closeness to her mental state. It feels deliberate. Psychological. Immersive.
Yrsa is a sexually liberated woman in her mid-twenties pursuing a PhD in sociology. Her thesis — “How Afropessimism Is Shaping Black Women’s Discourses on Their Liberation” — isn’t just academic. It becomes deeply personal.
After a pivotal and irreversible turning point involving a powerful male figure in her academic world, Yrsa begins interrogating liberation in ways that blur the line between theory and lived experience. She wrestles with haunting questions:
* If liberation can only be found in death, what if she changes the object of violence? * If violence turns subject into object, is violence the only way to reclaim subjecthood?
Instead of observing theory from a distance, Yrsa makes herself the case study.
What unfolds is a dark, philosophical exploration of agency, power, and the politics of Black womanhood.
This isn’t a comfortable read — but it is a compelling one. It challenges the reader to sit with moral tension, to question systems of power, and to consider how far one might go to reclaim autonomy.
Thank you to NetGalley & Random House for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I think this was trying to do too much in a small book. Yrsa was deeply unlikeable and not an interesting morally grey way, but more annoying and lack of development. There were so many plot lines and themes weaved throughout this story and none of them felt developed enough to be entertaining or even worthwhile. Honestly I really thought this was going to be a great feminist thriller, but it was a drag to read.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for kindly providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. #Honey #NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
This was a strong debut, and the author included a lot of themes of treatment of black women in society, complex family relationships, and justifications for murder, just to name a few. However, a lot of the plot lines didn't feel properly wrapped up, and the ending had me wishing there was more left.
Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this eArc in exchange for an honest review!
I breezed through this wonderful novel, not just because it is good but because I was ridiculously invested and stressed out over Yrsa’s circumstances. I ended up rating this one a 4.5 because it was truly just so much fun.
Honey is about a PhD student named Yrsa who goes on a killing spree, which she justifies both for feminism and research purposes. A decent amount of her dissertation is building off of theory by Saidiya Hartman, describing the ways that violence is repeated by oppressed peoples—Yrsa specifically talks about Black people/descendants of slaves. She claims that it is her methodology, therefore, to repeat violence against (mostly) white men who have horrific ideas about race and women. While this may sound strange and easy to mess up, Thompson makes Yrsa a truly compelling character in how she works out her ethical logic. Also, the novel is ridiculously funny and I found myself laughing out loud by the end. Thompson is a terrific writer and has elevated a simple archetype of a serial killer into a provoking novel that is incredibly fun to read.
Honey disappointed me. It’s labeled as wickedly funny, but it read like an interior drama that is weighted down by the heavy themes like racism, misogyny, afropessimism and more. While the plot intrigued me, the writing didn’t. It felt flat and slow, and while I wanted to love Yrsa, painted as an avenger, I found her impossible to connect with.
Not recommended. Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
This is a fascinating look at Yrsa, a PH.D. student who meets Ethan online and hopes it goes somewhere. But things soon spiral out of control and there are bees, poison,, murder plans, and so much more! It's wacky and often unbelievable, but it's a hoot and unlike anything else I've ever read! Thanks to NetGalley for this ARC!
The campus novel, set in Cambridge, opens with a portrait of Yrsa managing her teaching responsibilities and researching for her diss.—How Afropessimism is shaping black women’s discourses on liberation. As the story unfolds and Yrsa habitually murders, assuming the role of justice, the focus shifts from postcolonial sociological discussions to Yrsa’s self-destructive online dating life, friendships with women, and relationship with her parents. The shift gives the book a lack of cohesion, and the latter chapters, where the murders continue, and the police don’t suspect Yrsa’s involvement, create an unrealistic narrative, given the realistic fiction. The reader’s unbelief could perhaps be assuaged if the author deliberately wrote a magical realism or sci-fi novel.
My thanks to Random House and NetGalley for an ARC.
The academic lens we get was fantastic. The exploration of Afropessimism and violence through her thesis was super interesting. But I do think overall maybe the writing just wasn’t for me? The story held me until it didn’t. At times it felt a bit repetitive. I appreciate getting to know her true nature in the small flashbacks involving her grandmother and childhood. It’s solid but did leave me a little confused and that could totally be on me.
I really liked the premise and how this started. I was rooting for Yrsa to begin with but then the story just seemed to lose my interest sadly. Also it just felt repetitive at times. I loved the commentary about Yrsa and her views. Her experiences as a black woman, how unless you're a white straight man you'll always be messed about.
But towards the middle-ish I felt my interest wavering.
2.5 stars | Thank you to Random House Publishing and Net Galley for this advance reader copy.
Oh, Honey. Beautiful cover. British Caribbean author. I was drawn in. Black woman raging. Self-distruction beyond return.
Honey follows Yrsa, a bored, liberal PHD student at Cambridge, whose chosen dissertation prompts a quest to justify violence and murder for the sake of feminist and racial solidarity. She plots and attacks men who’ve done her or her friends wrong, men who pose a perceived threat to society.
This book falls short to me as the FMC is incredibly unlikeable — to the point where it is hard to see how she is or could be successful in fostering meaningful relationships with friends, family, and partners. She is so judgmental and critical of everyone she encounters. It clouds any argument she makes to support her actions. The high she feels from her first and subsequent kills propel her forward. When a gross miscalculation occurs that results in an “unwarranted death”, Yrsa blips past her guilt and kills again on a whim. It was all very jarring which I’m sure was the intent. In the end, I was left feeling conflicted on the overall message.
I cannot tell you why this book is "wickedly funny," as described. I enjoyed this read. I had a lot of feelings and thoughts about the content and tone. Funny? That was truly never on the list. If you're coming here because of this billing, please know that you may have to travel to the Upside Down to find out where this is supposed to be happening. I...just don't get this at all. If you're coming to this book for any other reason, great. It's a wild read in a good way.
Yrsa is over it. And by "it," I mean gross men behaving in disturbing ways. The challenges include but are not limited to (1) Yrsa decides what is disturbing and (2) her punishment methods are extreme and permanent. Creep her out. She'll kill you. You must give her this; she's committed to the bit.
One of several aspects of this novel that I loved and feared is that the nasty stuff Yrsa encounters is ubiquitous. These dudes aren't outliers. I know these guys, and so do you. I'm also fed up with this behavior, and certain events of the last few years have further exhausted some of us. You know the part where we're going backward in obvious ways and terrible treatment of women is regularly applauded and rewarded, including by folks in high power positions. So the world Yrsa exists in isn't some bizarro dystopia. It's just...this. Her reactions are big, but also I can't say I haven't had the thought. So there's that whole thread to think about from cover to cover.
Another riveting element of this novel is what slowly unfolds with Yrsa's backstory and family history. What I wouldn't do for a prequel. My main gripe - aside from having to suspend a lot of disbelief (and still being confounded by the hilarity promised here) - is that I wanted more of that origin story.
Reading this made me feel like a voyeur, a cheerleader, a potential killer, and...a fan of Thompson's. Go off, Yrsa. I never want to meet you, but I will always be happy to read about your escapades (and anything else Thompson produces, too)!
*Special thanks to NetGalley and Lauren Chrisney at Penguin Random House for this widget, which I received in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed here are my own.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the early copy.
I was genuinely excited going into this. The premise sounded dark, bold and sharp, and the early comparisons made it feel like it would be right up my street.
The novel follows Yrsa, a university lecturer whose first impulsive act of violence sparks something far more dangerous. The themes around race, identity and power within academia are clear and intentional, and the concept itself is strong.
For me, the execution didn’t quite land.
The structure includes a lot of emails, academic commentary and essay-style passages. While I understand why this approach was used, it reflects Yrsa’s profession and mindset, it significantly slowed the pacing. I found myself wanting more focus on the tension and progression of the murders, rather than extended academic dissection.
Yrsa is cold, obsessive and morally detached, which I didn’t mind – she’s clearly meant to be an unlikeable anti-hero. I don’t need to like a character to enjoy a book. What I struggled with was feeling fully pulled into the story itself. The narrative never quite built the momentum I was hoping for.
The final third improved slightly, but the ending felt abrupt and left me wanting more resolution.
This will likely appeal to readers who enjoy literary, academia-set thrillers that lean heavily into theme and character study. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right fit for me.
Wow. Just wow. This book completely blew me away! An absolute 5-star read!
Honey follows a brilliant but deeply broken woman pursuing her PhD in Afropessimism, while quietly spiralling into the life of a serial killer. It’s dark, emotional, and shockingly sharp. The author explores childhood trauma, addiction, academia, and the intersections of identity in ways that feel both brutal and brilliant.
The main character is so messed up and somehow, you can’t look away as she becomes even more unhinged. The book takes you on a wild emotional ride through her relationships with friends, family, and men (oh, the men...), all while she’s trying to maintain control over her life and her mind.
I loved how Imani Thompson wove in real academic tension, the intellectual rigor, the self-doubt, the unraveling that can come from trying to make sense of pain through theory. The line between coping and collapsing blurs beautifully here.
If I had one small critique, it’s that the prose was sometimes simpler than I usually prefer but that didn’t take away from how powerful and addictive this story was.
Dark, disturbing, and utterly captivating! Honey is one of those reads that lingers long after you finish.