Bodily transformation. Possession of the body. Forced disembodiment. A baby consumes its mother in utero. Unrealistic postpartum expectations turn deadly. A witch avenges the voiceless. These 16 original horror stories explore the ownership and control-or lack thereof-that we have over our bodies.
Roxie Voorhees (she/he/they) is a tangled threesome of Gag me with a Spoon, Welcome to the Darkside, and Catch me Outside. When she isn’t writing, she is hyperfocusing on whichever of the many hobbies her ADHD demands. A California native, he resides with his service dog, Bellatrix, in Little Rock, where he refuses to use the word fixin’, battles pollen, and fantasizes of using a public bathroom without it being a political stance.
Roxie has come out as gender fluid! She prefers any pronouns and doesn't mind being included in women specific lists, but he asks you please note their fluidity.
Horror and politics have always been friendly bedfellows, from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to Lovecraft’s fear of immigrants, from Romero’s Dawn of the Dead to DeMonaco’s The Purge franchise, from the ‘80s splatterpunk revolution right on up through to the 2022’s ANTIFA Splatterpunk and plenty more in-between. Horror is political, always has been, always will be. (And, spoiler alert, all art is inherently political. Even the choice to produce work that is seemingly apolitical is, in and of itself, a political statement.) What changes are the issues it faces dead-on, like capitalism, fascism, war, or, in the case of this anthology from editors Roxie Voorhees and Nico Bell, bodily autonomy.
In June 2022, the right-wing dominated Supreme Court overturned the landmark 1974 ruling of Roe v. Wade in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, upending women’s right to have an abortion. Almost immediately thereafter, amidst widespread protests, reports of women dying began to circulate as red states moved to outlaw access to medically safe abortions. Women, and oftentimes their fetus or child as well, were condemned to death by Republican legislatures under the banner of the pro-life movement.
While the Supreme Court ruling was widely condemned all around the world and led to several states adopting midterm referendums this past November to enshrine safe, legal access to abortions in their constitutions, this latest assault on women’s right from the GOP serves as an important and vital backdrop to the creation of Mine: An Anthology of Body Autonomy Horror. In other words, if you’re one of those readers who gets squeamish about politics intermingling with their fiction (particularly fiction that doesn’t square with white, cis, heteronormative, masculine politics), you may want to look elsewhere, ASAP. Because not only is Mine political in execution, the current hellscape of American politics is, in fact, its entire raison d être. Its publisher, Creature Publishing, is a feminist horror press highlighting works with social commentary, seeking to address horror publishing’s imbalance when it comes letting diverse voices be heard. All profits generated from sales of this anthology go to the pro-choice organization National Abortion Rights Action League (NARAL), which fights for reproductive freedom, access to abortion care, birth control, paid parental leave, and protection from pregnancy discrimination. Thankfully, in addition to supporting a fine and just organization at a critical point in American history, you also get a bevy of damn good stories, too.
Mine collects sixteen short stories and poems from a broad range of authors across the spectrum of gender and sexual identities. Anne Gresham’s “Pre-Baby Bodies” sets the tone for much of what follows, exploring the ways in which childbirth rewires the mind and body, and how mothers are viewed less than favorably by society regardless of all the lip service that gets paid to them. Meg feels like a stranger in her own body but is hellbent on getting back into shape and being the woman she used to be. When granted an offer to attend a midnight gym class, something that will fit into her full-time work schedule and fill that gap between late-night child feedings as a full-time parent, she decides to take it. Gresham delivers an awesome riff on Invasion of the Body Snatchers as filtered through postpartum depression and the struggles being a working mother who is unappreciated by both her employers and her husband.
H.V. Patterson’s “D.E.B.” explores body image, propaganda, and the complete loss of freedom and choice. It’s a well-constructed dystopian piece revolving around a society that demands of its populace mandatory disembodiment procedures, and one that feels starkly familiar in today’s political climate wherein the elites ruling over us get to decide who can do what with their body, trapping us all within their narrow views of the world.
Of course, given the scope of Mine, there’s going to be a few body horror by way of pregnancy stories in the mix, and these are well done. Alex’s life is turned upside down in Zack Zagranis’s “Feed Us,” after she learns she is pregnant. It’s an unwelcome surprise, and she plans on aborting, except her husband wants her to keep it. Zagranis walks us through Alex’s three trimesters as her body changes in response to the growing cells within her, and her autonomy is slowly shredded by her husband’s and her doctor’s demands to save this new life. Sarah Jane Huntington similarly explores the demands of an unwanted pregnancy in “Bleeding At Her Roots,” which revolves around teenage Anna, who has been impregnated by the prophet of the cult she is prisoner to. Huntington deftly explores religious extremism and fundamentalist beliefs about the subjugation of women, and if there was ever a story that was a pointed, and on-point, critique of the GOP’s use of religion as an excuse to subdue women as little more than breeding chattel, this is it. My only complaint is that I wish it were longer and afforded more room to explore the cult community Anna is trapped in and to give it a bit more depth.
While the overarching theme uniting the stories in Mine is clearly spelled out right from the get-go, editors Voorhees and Bell have done a nice job arranging the anthology into basically two halves. The first half explores the loss of bodily autonomy as a tool for of oppression, while in the second it becomes a finely tuned instrument of revenge, sometimes even from beyond the grave. J.M. Sedlock explores the latter as a magician begins to lose control of his hands after mouthing off to the wrong individual in “The Magician on His Deathbed,” but it’s Stephanie Rabig and Cynthia Gómez who really seal the deal in their respective stories. “There is No Subtlety, Only Rage” delivers one of this book’s best premises, revolving around a christofascist parents who have abandoned their trans child getting their just desserts while celebrating the Supreme Court’s ban on abortion. The concept behind Rabig’s story is absolutely delicious, with the very last line delivering one hell of a killer ending. It’s another piece that I wish were longer and that we got to marinate in the ultimate ramifications of this story for a while more. This could be turned into an absolutely bonkers work of splatterpunk body horror, and I truly hope Rabig fleshes this out into a novella. Gómez’s “Come Here, Ofelia,” is a personal favorite and hands-down one of Mine’s best entries, involving an almost Candyman-esque figure that feels like an urban legend borne out of the GOP’s disastrous, murderous policies for women.
As with any anthology, there were a few pieces that didn’t quite work for me. I’m also not at all into poetry, so I’ll leave it up to other readers to determine how well those segments worked. Taken as a whole, Mine is a smartly constructed anthology with a vitally important and scarily timely message, one that readers would do well to digest and mull over, even if (and perhaps, especially if) they do not agree with this book’s and its contributor’s central premise. For those whose kneejerk reaction is to immediately dismiss any individuals concerns over the loss of bodily autonomy and their fundamental human rights, well…here’s to hoping you get to meet Ofelia one of these days.
This is an excellent anthology that explores the loss of bodily autonomy through horror. It is a mix of short stories and poetry. The settings of the stories range from taking place in our world after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade to futuristic technologically advanced societies, and everywhere around and in between. Some stories center reproductive health, while others do not. Overall, it is a wonderful collection that delivers on the horror and political commentary for a very satisfying read.
Can we talk about this cover??? My god, so gorgeous. I received this ARC from the publisher and absolutely devoured it. Horror short stories with a focus on body autonomy. Pick this one up! Profits from sales go to NARAL Pro-Choice America.
(Bias disclosure: I have a story in this collection)
This collection just blew me away. The creativity, the clear and precise prose, the gorgeous poems! I'm really honored that I'm sharing a TOC with such talented authors!
not good.... didn't enjoy the style nor content.. read with my friend james.... kept looking at eachother being like "bruh" Literally just massive fucking bruh moment idk this was not enjoyable whatsoever i don't recommend.
This perfectly delivered on its premise- body autonomy horror related to the repeal of Roe v. Wade. I devoured this in a feminist ecstasy. I also liked the contrast between the longer stories and the poems. I could gladly read more of this type of thing.
Anthologies can be hard sells for me, but I really enjoyed this one. “The Rabbits That Make Us Wolves” by Bri Crozier and “Time’s Torn Seam” by A. J. Van Belle were especially phenomenal. I’ll definitely be on the lookout for more from these authors as well as from this publishing company in the future!
it was okay... some of the concepts had potential but for the most part it all felt very surface level. the stories were all very similar in tone & content to a point of indistinguishability between authors, and they either leaned too much into bioessentialism ("my divine feminine rage") or were too hand-holdy, like they didn't trust the reader to understand them. it didn't always feel sure of itself. also body autonomy horror has so much potential as a genre so the fact that everything seemed to center the same experiences (largely white womanhood) was frustrating. ultimately not for me! but i'm a big fan of proceeds going toward reproductive freedom funds soooooooo whatever i'm glad i bought it. hashtag abort that thang. my favorite work was "Time's Torn Seam" by A.J. Van Belle.
A mix of short stories and poetry about losing bodily autonomy and its horrors. Each one blends this theme masterfully with the politics and messages it wants to get across. Pick this up! Additionally, profits go to NARAL Pro-Choice America 👏
I would give it 3.75 If I could, but it rounds up. I really really enjoyed some of these stories when reading them, and I think the book itself is beautiful, but some of the stories also I just didn't really like or get? Some of the poems I also enjoyed while others were sort expected if that makes sense. I feel like some of the stories get kind of repetitive with their themes, and I know that this book is a themed book and that's not what I mean. I mean I feel like they all just sort of fall in the same part of the theme if that makes sense. I don't know I don't have the vocabulary to describe it. It was a pretty book though, and I'd offer it to a friend to read some of the short stories if we were sitting and drinking coffee together and they expressed interest. I would have to say my favorite story would be the cult one.
As a whole, this anthology has something for nearly any horror fan when looking at the stories' various surfaces - which, considering the overall thematic elements and societal message of the book itself, is a vast accomplishment. With the exception of, to my recollection, two or three stories/poems, never did the intended message of each writing seem forced or as though the reader is being "preached to/at".
This denoted accolade is intended in no way to serve to diminish each writers' broaching of the intended topic and the power their voice provides to that message and theme.
My personal standout recommendations within this collection are as follows:
1. Come Here, Ofelia by Cynthia Gomez I do not want to provide a summary as, especially with stories intended for brevity, even the briefest of synopsis can unintentionally provide narrative spoilers. However, one of the more original revenge stories I have seen explored within the totality of horror - not just as a genre, but also, an entire medium - entertainment, discourse, and beyond.
2. D.E.B. by H.V. Patterson By far the most likely story from this collection to be explored in the world of cinema, this story will make whoever licenses it, assuming directorial duties and screen writing craft is adequately selected, a tidy fortune.
My absolute favorite macabre tale from this overall excellent, not without flaws, collection.
Published in response to the overturning of Roe vs Wade in the US last year, this is a powerful and timely collection of horror stories about body autonomy that is well worth checking out.
While not every tale here did it for me, I enjoyed plenty of them. Stephanie Rabig’s There Is No Subtlety, Only Rage was a supernatural revenge story that was on the nose but very strong, The Magician On His Deathbed by J M Sedlock was a highly original story of losing control of your body, and Anne Gresham’s Pre-Baby Bodies was a creepy look at postnatal psychosis that was full of scarily accurate depictions of life as a new parent and was probably my favourite of the bunch. Oh, and Feed Us by Zack Zagranis was nasty in the best kind of way.
Nestled along the stories are poems, a couple of which caught my eye - namely Kelly Brocklehurst’s Womb and the final verse of Marsheila Rockwell’s Child Bride, which was all kinds of ‘woah’.
This collection is being used to raise funds for charity, so is worth supporting for that reason alone. But the stories and the cover art are both great too, so you should definitely give it a try!
There wasn’t a story or poem here that I didn’t like. Some resonated more with me than others, and some I wanted to see more from, but overall it’s a powerful collection about one of the biggest issues people, particularly people with uteruses, face.
A mix of short stories and poetry that are so harrowing, powerful and gut wrenching. They revolve around the unfortunate reality that affects all of us females right now; when it comes to reproductive rights and our bodies. I highly recommend everyone read this! It’s a must read!
I liked the idea of this more than the execution. Honestly a 2 or 2.5 I’m rounding up. I skipped the poetry entirely because I don’t get along with poetry, but I read all the short stories.
Pre-Baby Bodies was my favorite, and it makes sense that it’s the first story in the collection. I love stories that take beauty and fitness culture and make it creepy or weird.
The other story that felt pretty good was The Luthier’s Muse. Horror around a husband’s use of his wife’s body for his own creative purposes.
There were others that had premises I liked but they were way too heavy handed. Characters and/or the narrator would basically outline the lesson to me. It’s a shame because they could’ve been stronger stories. I get that this collection was created with a *purpose*, and one I agree with, it’s just unfortunately not as much to my taste as I had hoped it would be.
While I despise the impetus for needing books like this, I'm glad this collection exists. Some really exceptional writing and storytelling in a collection whose profit proceeds go directly to NARAL (reproductive rights, abortion care, birth control access, etc.).
Buy a few copies and pass them out to your reader friends for good measure.
I felt like this collection overall had more promise, but there were arguably only two memorable shorts; otherwise, there wasn’t much thematic divergence, and I felt like I was reading variations of the same story more often than not.