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Suture
To make her films, Eva must take out her eyes and use them as batteries. To make her art, Finn must cut open her chest and remove her lungs and heart. To write her novels, Grace must use her blood to power the word processor. Suture shares three interweaving stories of artists tearing themselves open to make art. Each artist baffles their family, or harms their loved ones, with their necessary sacrifices. Eva's wife worries about her mental health; Finn's teenager follows in her footsteps, using forearms bones for drumsticks; Grace's network constantly worries about the prolific writer's penchant for self-harm, and the over-use of her vitals for art. The result is a hyper-real exploration of the cruelties we commit and forgive in ourselves and others. Brewer brings a unique perspective to mental illness while exploring how support systems in relationships—spousal, parental, familial—can be both helpful and damaging. This exciting debut novel is a highly original meditation on the fractures within us, and the importance of empathy as medicine and glue.
197 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 21, 2021
14 people are currently reading
3793 people want to read
About the author
Nic Brewer
1 book39 followersNic Brewer is a queer writer and editor from Toronto. She writes fiction, mostly; her first novel, Suture (Book*Hug 2021), is a hyper-real exploration of the tiny cruelties artists commit and forgive in themselves and others. She is the co-founder of Frond, an online literary journal for prose by LGBTQI2SA writers, and formerly co-managed the micropress words(on)pages. She doesn’t look like her author photo, doesn’t have an MFA, and really wants to hear about what you love most in the world.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 75 reviews
March 9, 2025
in the nicest way possible i thought it was fucking stupid
March 4, 2021
Are you even an author if you don't rate your own book 5 stars on Goodreads? Thank you in advance to everyone who reads, rates, and reviews my first book! I love each and every one of you!
September 30, 2022
a very queer imagining of art making that involves the removal of one’s body parts and usage of it in a literal way and the complicated relationships we have to ourselves as artists and as mothers and as lovers, kinda meta
January 22, 2022
First things first: VISCERAL. This is not a book for the faint of heart. But books about women making art never are.
Eva makes films, but only by pulling her own eyes out of their sockets to put them in the camera; Finn makes paintings, but only by pulling her own organs out of her chest from a long incision stretching from collarbone to belly button; Grace writes books, but only by inserting an IV into the crook of her elbow in order to pump blood into her word processor.
Brewer does not hold BACK in these descriptions, either: the process is bloody, graphic, filled with unsanitized howls and groans. But even as these three artists pull themselves apart, they’re also trying — as maybe they have been all along — to put themselves back together.
The imagery is layered so beautifully in this book. I could write essays about it forever. It’s heart-felt and vicious and beautiful all at once.
Eva makes films, but only by pulling her own eyes out of their sockets to put them in the camera; Finn makes paintings, but only by pulling her own organs out of her chest from a long incision stretching from collarbone to belly button; Grace writes books, but only by inserting an IV into the crook of her elbow in order to pump blood into her word processor.
Brewer does not hold BACK in these descriptions, either: the process is bloody, graphic, filled with unsanitized howls and groans. But even as these three artists pull themselves apart, they’re also trying — as maybe they have been all along — to put themselves back together.
The imagery is layered so beautifully in this book. I could write essays about it forever. It’s heart-felt and vicious and beautiful all at once.
January 16, 2022
I loved this book so much that I proposed to the author, and she said yes 💕
September 15, 2021
SUTURE by Nic Brewer is such a weird and great debut novel that I loved! It’s three interconnected stories about three women artists who literally have to give up parts of their bodies to create their art. I loved how this book brings to life the figurative idea that artists leave themselves in their art. As a fellow creative it was extremely easy to relate to these women and their relationships. I also loved the queer representation. I really enjoyed all the different emotions the writing brought forth. There were some gruesome parts that were unsettling, some tender and heartfelt moments and even some sad events that reflect the realities in life with mental illness. This is a book that I’ll never forget. I really loved it!
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Thank you to Book Hug Press for my gifted review copy!
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Thank you to Book Hug Press for my gifted review copy!
February 22, 2022
4.5 stars
I'll admit, when I first read the synopsis for this book, I was hesitant to pick it up but I'm so glad I did. This is a novel that takes the passion that artists have for their work to a whole new level, where to make art is quite literally bleeding for it, whether it's taking out your eyes to film, slicing your chest to remove and photograph your heart and lungs or using your very blood to write a novel. It takes the concept of a tortured artist to its most extreme in this physical pain, but it isn't simply the physical act of making the art that is harmful, but the mental processes and emotion that come with that, with striving to create something that you are proud of and that others praise.
Yes, the descriptions of the physical acts that are necessary for Eva, Finn and Grace to create are visceral and gory but there is also a matter of factness about them in a world where this is what artists do. There is no pretending it isn't painful or messy or that it doesn't damage the artist and so, although you have questions about the real-world possibilities of what they are doing, these fade into the background.
At the same time, among the blood and gore and pain this is a novel about the people around the artist whether that be partner, parent or child. Each of the women we meet have a significant other in their life who tries to support them, in some cases very successfully and in others not so much -although not for lack of trying. To live with someone who does what these women do can't be easy, watching someone you love harm themselves in this way, but this support network is so often vital.
It is these relationships that are really what made the novel for me, making it more than simply an innovative and often grisly way of looking at the making of art in this way -although that part is fascinating in a gut-wrenching way. The partnership between Eva and Dev in particular was really touching without sentimentality as was that between Finn and her teenager Paige where the mixed fear and pride of your child following in your footsteps is made apparent.
A unique read then that manages to engage your brain, heart and gut and as this is Nic Brewer's debut novel I'll be looking forward to what she comes up with next.
I'll admit, when I first read the synopsis for this book, I was hesitant to pick it up but I'm so glad I did. This is a novel that takes the passion that artists have for their work to a whole new level, where to make art is quite literally bleeding for it, whether it's taking out your eyes to film, slicing your chest to remove and photograph your heart and lungs or using your very blood to write a novel. It takes the concept of a tortured artist to its most extreme in this physical pain, but it isn't simply the physical act of making the art that is harmful, but the mental processes and emotion that come with that, with striving to create something that you are proud of and that others praise.
Yes, the descriptions of the physical acts that are necessary for Eva, Finn and Grace to create are visceral and gory but there is also a matter of factness about them in a world where this is what artists do. There is no pretending it isn't painful or messy or that it doesn't damage the artist and so, although you have questions about the real-world possibilities of what they are doing, these fade into the background.
At the same time, among the blood and gore and pain this is a novel about the people around the artist whether that be partner, parent or child. Each of the women we meet have a significant other in their life who tries to support them, in some cases very successfully and in others not so much -although not for lack of trying. To live with someone who does what these women do can't be easy, watching someone you love harm themselves in this way, but this support network is so often vital.
It is these relationships that are really what made the novel for me, making it more than simply an innovative and often grisly way of looking at the making of art in this way -although that part is fascinating in a gut-wrenching way. The partnership between Eva and Dev in particular was really touching without sentimentality as was that between Finn and her teenager Paige where the mixed fear and pride of your child following in your footsteps is made apparent.
A unique read then that manages to engage your brain, heart and gut and as this is Nic Brewer's debut novel I'll be looking forward to what she comes up with next.
September 28, 2021
As an artist and a writer who works across genres, this novel severed my arteries and ripped out my heart. Two days later, it sits in my mind; and I'm sure it will continue to do so for years to come. Brewer's command of her nimble yet stirring prose reimagines and relays without hesitation, the invisible realities of art-making. As John Elizabeth Stintzi said, "Hold on to your guts." This one is worth shelving among your favourites. And yes, I devoured it in less than a day.
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December 13, 2022"I haven’t been able to go to the movies in a long time. It is too intimate; I hate the way I cry, the way everyone else doesn’t. I don’t know how we are all expected to leave the theatre so cracked open like that." <3
October 29, 2024
Pretty interesting premise but I really didn't find myself caring about any of the characters.
2.5 stars
2.5 stars
October 26, 2022
TW: Self-mutilation, gore and blood (lots). Very descriptive—how did these people keep on living?
It’s a dabble in medical-sci-fi, or should this book be classified as horror? It’s *dark* sure, but also poetic, metaphorical, and romantic. The blood and gore within is tasteful, and thoughtfully arranged. Three women are literally dedicating their bodies to each of their artistic endeavors, which are potentially harmful sacrifices to their lives and relationships.
My face pinched a lot while taking in this book. As an artist and a “card-carrying member” of the “zipper club,” I would often paint my scar into self portraits. I didn’t put is there, but it made me, so it’s a part of my (visual) identity, whether anyone noticed or not. Needless to say this book struck just the right macabre nerve in me.
Something haunting casts a shadow over every character in this book, but I couldn’t put my finger in it. Depression? Loneliness? Its was some form of detachment… I could feel the presence of a sorrow-clenched throat behind every woman’s thought and movement. This was often disrupted by a vivid description of wet, seepage sounds, which is disarming.
Brewer’s writing is thoughtful and lovely (despite the imagery). I look forward to future works!
It’s a dabble in medical-sci-fi, or should this book be classified as horror? It’s *dark* sure, but also poetic, metaphorical, and romantic. The blood and gore within is tasteful, and thoughtfully arranged. Three women are literally dedicating their bodies to each of their artistic endeavors, which are potentially harmful sacrifices to their lives and relationships.
My face pinched a lot while taking in this book. As an artist and a “card-carrying member” of the “zipper club,” I would often paint my scar into self portraits. I didn’t put is there, but it made me, so it’s a part of my (visual) identity, whether anyone noticed or not. Needless to say this book struck just the right macabre nerve in me.
Something haunting casts a shadow over every character in this book, but I couldn’t put my finger in it. Depression? Loneliness? Its was some form of detachment… I could feel the presence of a sorrow-clenched throat behind every woman’s thought and movement. This was often disrupted by a vivid description of wet, seepage sounds, which is disarming.
Brewer’s writing is thoughtful and lovely (despite the imagery). I look forward to future works!
September 27, 2023
Girl I’m so confused
January 10, 2023
Nic Brewer somehow managed to write a book that perfectly balances body horror with beautiful literary fiction.
It follows 3 characters independent stories. Finn takes out her organs to make art. Grace uses blood to write books. Eva takes out her eyes to take photos. All 3 sound gross, and they are, but the stories are also about love, trauma, family, trust. I absolutely loved it and can’t wait to read more from this author.
It follows 3 characters independent stories. Finn takes out her organs to make art. Grace uses blood to write books. Eva takes out her eyes to take photos. All 3 sound gross, and they are, but the stories are also about love, trauma, family, trust. I absolutely loved it and can’t wait to read more from this author.
September 13, 2024
I went into this expecting a horrific, gruesome, bloody story....but then ended up reading something very sweet and earnest. Sure, there was plenty of blood and gore too, but it was very emotionally driven and went far beyond being a horror story (I don't even think you could classify this as such, or even say it was disturbing really). Despite not being what I expected, I still really enjoyed the exploration of these three little lives and how each artist's journey was shaped.
September 25, 2023
I've read this book twice now - the first time was while I was writing my own book. The second was after it existed. Both times I was grateful that someone managed to put it into words. Nic Brewer writes for the people who feel everything and are perpetually searching for ways to do something with it. This is one of the most human books I've ever read.
September 29, 2021
Does our greatest art come from pain + suffering?
How did the book make me feel/think?
I crack open my chest and rip out my heart, releasing its blood onto the canvas—so you can grasp my unrelenting pain as I desperately try to feel loved. I need you to understand my anguish; it is my way of letting you know I’m alive.
I can barely breathe, so I cut out my lungs, adding them to the canvas; your love is all I have, yet I’m afraid of it + your closeness, I don’t think I’m worthy. By adding my suffocating lungs to the canvas. I become relevant. Inspirational. Relatable.
I tear out my eyes so you can see what I see. You never will. Eventually, my life grows black as I immerse you in my opaque suffering. You love me. But my insatiable insanity only brings you sorrow.
I drip blood onto the page. Always thirsting for more. You love me unconditionally; you bring kindness. I return rage + my unworthiness. I need to be unlovable. I need to cry onto every page in a dark plasma. If I lose my agony, I will no longer be accepted for my art. I will become stale, repetitive, unreadable. I must bleed.
I stitch over my insecurities, again and again, and again, until they become manageable, constant reminders of who I am and who I never will be. Or I will die.
I think that is what I’ve consumed. I’m not sure. I will return to my beginning, with my heart + lungs, + eyes sutured back where they are meant to be.
WRITTEN: September 29, 2021
How did the book make me feel/think?
I crack open my chest and rip out my heart, releasing its blood onto the canvas—so you can grasp my unrelenting pain as I desperately try to feel loved. I need you to understand my anguish; it is my way of letting you know I’m alive.
I can barely breathe, so I cut out my lungs, adding them to the canvas; your love is all I have, yet I’m afraid of it + your closeness, I don’t think I’m worthy. By adding my suffocating lungs to the canvas. I become relevant. Inspirational. Relatable.
I tear out my eyes so you can see what I see. You never will. Eventually, my life grows black as I immerse you in my opaque suffering. You love me. But my insatiable insanity only brings you sorrow.
I drip blood onto the page. Always thirsting for more. You love me unconditionally; you bring kindness. I return rage + my unworthiness. I need to be unlovable. I need to cry onto every page in a dark plasma. If I lose my agony, I will no longer be accepted for my art. I will become stale, repetitive, unreadable. I must bleed.
I stitch over my insecurities, again and again, and again, until they become manageable, constant reminders of who I am and who I never will be. Or I will die.
I think that is what I’ve consumed. I’m not sure. I will return to my beginning, with my heart + lungs, + eyes sutured back where they are meant to be.
WRITTEN: September 29, 2021
November 26, 2024
SO GOOD. I was hesitant at first because my stomach is not the strongest when it comes to body horror (and oh boy the body horror is gratuitous in this novel) but all my queasiness and nausea eventually subsided and was replaced by a deep appreciation of what it is to be vulnerable, and what it means to be able to love someone. Based on how this book was marketed to me (from a tiktok list of queer horror lol i am chronically online after all) I did not expect to put it down feeling as emotional as I am now
January 10, 2022
Fearlessly surreal, this metaphor captures an deep look inside the cutthroat arts industry. Early in, I didn’t think I could read a whole book of such violent metaphors! But quickly they dove in deep with so many different methods and different reasons that we can kill ourselves with our art, normalize our pain, and focus on production, without self protection and I found myself repeatedly nodding. It’s surreal and stunningly relatable
January 8, 2024
4.25 stars
gripping and heartwrenching (literally) stories about women giving parts of themselves to their art, and the complications this creates for their bodies and loved ones. v bloody and gorey of course but in a way that makes you feel so many emotions and connect with each character deeply. never once did I question the logistics or plausibility of brutally removing and replacing your own organs for the sake of creation; the storytelling made everything seem so normal.
characters: 4
plot: 4.5
writing: 4 (listened as an audiobook, so hard to tell)
gripping and heartwrenching (literally) stories about women giving parts of themselves to their art, and the complications this creates for their bodies and loved ones. v bloody and gorey of course but in a way that makes you feel so many emotions and connect with each character deeply. never once did I question the logistics or plausibility of brutally removing and replacing your own organs for the sake of creation; the storytelling made everything seem so normal.
characters: 4
plot: 4.5
writing: 4 (listened as an audiobook, so hard to tell)
November 15, 2021
I fucking adore this book, and you should read it.
That is all.
That is all.
December 11, 2021
A strange, stirring, darkly beautiful read!
Suture follows three artists that quite literally use parts of their bodies to create art. With intertwined storylines we get a full bodied view of these creatives, showing how far they will go and what they will sacrifice of themselves in the name of art.
A wholly original, fantastic debut! Brewer offers a most interesting perspective on mental illness and creating while conjuring a full spectrum of vivid images and emotions. Suture is grotesque yet delicate I was absolutely blown away by this one! Brewer's prose pulled me in and completely overtook my brain. To all my booksta friends that like something a bit weird and different try this one out!
Thank you so much to the publisher for sending me this book opinions are my own.
For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
Suture follows three artists that quite literally use parts of their bodies to create art. With intertwined storylines we get a full bodied view of these creatives, showing how far they will go and what they will sacrifice of themselves in the name of art.
A wholly original, fantastic debut! Brewer offers a most interesting perspective on mental illness and creating while conjuring a full spectrum of vivid images and emotions. Suture is grotesque yet delicate I was absolutely blown away by this one! Brewer's prose pulled me in and completely overtook my brain. To all my booksta friends that like something a bit weird and different try this one out!
Thank you so much to the publisher for sending me this book opinions are my own.
For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
March 7, 2023
This is one of the most disgusting, stomach churning book I've ever read, and that says a lot. But what a beautiful story of women pushing physical boundaries and endangering themselves for their art. I also loved that one of the characters kid is non-binary as I rarely see NB reps in books.
February 1, 2025
some of the descriptions in the beginning of this actually made me a little bit queasy
November 21, 2021
Astonishing vision … beautifully crafted ...
February 6, 2023
In-Betweenie #4 -
This book was as beautiful as it was gruesome. We followed 3 different main characters as they traversed their lives and negotiated how much of themselves they were willing to give to their art, a sentence which I mean quite literally in this novel’s world.
It was a beautiful exploration of love, art, and the challenges that can come with loving as an artist so dedicated to their craft. There was sadness, and self-loathing, and pain, and also some of the most powerful, sweet, kind loves I’ve ever read in a novel. I was really impressed by the complexity and depth the author achieved within such a small, intentionally less detailed collection of stories. The way the stories wove together and were told in a somewhat staccato beginning, middle and end, with undisclosed time jumps was unlike anything I’ve ever read before.
It was definitely hard to read at times, the art being so intricately tied to the blood and organs of the artists, the gore being so present on the page. But it was so worth it. When I described the book to my partner yesterday, he said “well that’s a pretty thinly veiled metaphor isn’t it?” And while he’s definitely right in that the metaphor itself is quite obvious, I think it made the complexities of artistry and love easier to explore and examine.
I would definitely recommend this one, with the caveat that though it’s not gory in the “slasher” genre way, there are so many bloods and guts and organs and if you can’t handle that you should not read this one. Anyone who can handle that, absolutely should! Plus it’s another Canadian author and publishing house one I picked up at WordOnTheStreet and it always feels great to support more locally!
This book was as beautiful as it was gruesome. We followed 3 different main characters as they traversed their lives and negotiated how much of themselves they were willing to give to their art, a sentence which I mean quite literally in this novel’s world.
It was a beautiful exploration of love, art, and the challenges that can come with loving as an artist so dedicated to their craft. There was sadness, and self-loathing, and pain, and also some of the most powerful, sweet, kind loves I’ve ever read in a novel. I was really impressed by the complexity and depth the author achieved within such a small, intentionally less detailed collection of stories. The way the stories wove together and were told in a somewhat staccato beginning, middle and end, with undisclosed time jumps was unlike anything I’ve ever read before.
It was definitely hard to read at times, the art being so intricately tied to the blood and organs of the artists, the gore being so present on the page. But it was so worth it. When I described the book to my partner yesterday, he said “well that’s a pretty thinly veiled metaphor isn’t it?” And while he’s definitely right in that the metaphor itself is quite obvious, I think it made the complexities of artistry and love easier to explore and examine.
I would definitely recommend this one, with the caveat that though it’s not gory in the “slasher” genre way, there are so many bloods and guts and organs and if you can’t handle that you should not read this one. Anyone who can handle that, absolutely should! Plus it’s another Canadian author and publishing house one I picked up at WordOnTheStreet and it always feels great to support more locally!
March 1, 2023
4.5, queer artsy weirdness my beloved
December 23, 2024
“An artist is just a person covered in blood”
Insane. Graphic.
Insane. Graphic.
October 6, 2022
Not for squeamish people 🙈
January 26, 2023
I love this book, it is not what I expected when I read the descriptions of it, but in the best way. Parts of it made me feel so seen as a writer and reader, other parts made me understand with new depth the way people have loved me and I have loved them, flawed and beautifully. As a neurodivergent person, there were many lines I underlined that felt particularly relevant and pertinent to my experience trying to navigate the social and creative worlds. I don’t usually find my inner self so reflected in fiction.
Suture is an ode to art making but, I also can’t help but read it as a warning, as acknowledging that art as destruction of the self *is* a horror story. In the epilogue, Brewer does present an alternative of art making and giving of the self that is not so destructive, and I am so grateful for it. I think there’s great discussion to be had about what we expect of artists and creators, what violence western cultures require of “good” artists to do to themselves, the lack of privacy, and the expectation interviewers and fans have of writers to be able to recall or share or immerse themselves back in a painful event as part of marketing and promoting their work at shows and conferences.
I highly recommend this for people who make and write and craft, for recovering people pleasers, for people who consume art, and for those who love people who make art. I think it would do well with youth aged readers especially with a guided conversation or book club for teen writer or filmmaker clubs.
Suture is an ode to art making but, I also can’t help but read it as a warning, as acknowledging that art as destruction of the self *is* a horror story. In the epilogue, Brewer does present an alternative of art making and giving of the self that is not so destructive, and I am so grateful for it. I think there’s great discussion to be had about what we expect of artists and creators, what violence western cultures require of “good” artists to do to themselves, the lack of privacy, and the expectation interviewers and fans have of writers to be able to recall or share or immerse themselves back in a painful event as part of marketing and promoting their work at shows and conferences.
I highly recommend this for people who make and write and craft, for recovering people pleasers, for people who consume art, and for those who love people who make art. I think it would do well with youth aged readers especially with a guided conversation or book club for teen writer or filmmaker clubs.
July 22, 2022
"I want it to hurt the way it hurts to be alive, she didn't say, mulling over how she wanted to string it all together."
I had the pleasure of briefly meeting the author at a panel for WOTS. Suture is as lovely of a book as Nic Brewer is a human! A gorgeous, violent but achingly gentle juxtaposition of a novel that captures the agony of every artist; it had me enthralled from start to finish.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 75 reviews