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WHITEFERN: A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review

Everybody on the V.C. Andrews Facebook groups told me not to. Begged me even. But I did it. I read Whitefern, which is probably one of the most despised books penned under the V.C. Andrews name. It’s the sequel of what was Andrews’ only stand-alone book for many years, My Sweet Audrina. Likely, you’ve read my review of the original, which also happens to be my favourite V.C. Andrews book. My Sweet Audrina was difficult to give the proper “Grown-Ass” treatment to, however, so I was very much excited to mindlessly read the sequel with the usual snark that I give to ghostwriter Andrew Neiderman’s prose.

ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR STORYTELLERS OF ALL TIME, V.C. ANDREWS LAYERS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE WITH SHEER TERROR IN THIS CONTINUATION OF AUDRINA’S UNTHINKABLE FAMILY SAGA.

Whitefern swallowed Audrina’s childhood—and now the sprawling Victorian mansion threatens her adult life too…

Audrina remembers a better time, when her husband, Arden, was a young man with a heart filled with devotion for her. He didn’t used to be this ambitious, expansive…this cruel. But then, the death of Audrina’s father changed a great many things.

When the reading of her father’s will reveals that Audrina herself will control fifty-one percent of the family brokerage—the halls of Whitefern again don’t feel safe. Arden’s protestations become frantic, nearly violent. And while Audrina didn’t anticipate running the family business, she’s curious to do so. And she can’t help but wonder what had made her father change his will at the last minute? What did he know about Arden that she didn’t?

Trapped in the middle of it all: her fragile, simple sister—the beautiful, trusting Sylvia. Audrina promised her father she’d watch over the young woman. But after years of relative quiet, the dark days of Whitefern may have returned…

About Whitefern

The original book (that should have stayed a standalone), My Sweet Audrina, was published in 1982 and written by V.C. Andrews herself. Whitefern was published in 2016 and I’m guessing that Simon & Shuster forced ghostwriter Andrew Neiderman to churn this thing out in order to cash in on the inevitable V.C. Andrews interest that absorbed senior millennials and gen-Xers shortly after Lifetime started making movie renditions of the Dollanganger series.

Lifetime then aired the movie adaptation of My Sweet Audrina in January of 2016. Whitefern was subsequently published in July of 2016, much to the chagrin of many a V.C. Andrews fan. At the time, I decided I’d never read it, but hey, after I started my “Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews” series, I figured that no Neidernman-penned book was worth turning my nose at.

My Copy of Whitefern

I found my copy at Value Village in pretty great shape. My handling of the book could have been better, but I’ve got carpal tunnel and wear wrist braces at night (which work to some degree!) but also kind of mess up the bottom edge of whatever cheap book I’m reading. Modern paperbacks are also made so cheaply these days and it doesn’t take much to rub the finish off the covers. Simon & Shuster at least still splurge on metallic print for V.C. Andrews’ noble name, however, and even that got nicked off a bit during my reading.

Much like with Into the Darkness, this cover suffers hard from “stock photo cover design syndrome”, meaning that it relies heavily on a damn stock photo and a single piece of clip art. In this case, the staircase actually fits the tone of the story, but the girl in the photo looks much too young to be Audrina. One could argue that the girl in the picture is Sylvia, I guess?

I’m just offended because the V.C. Andrews brand just doesn’t suit stock photos. I’m a purist and these covers ruin the original aesthetic of the books. I miss the stepbacks and the original art. And I cannot fucking stand those “chick in modern makeup dressed to look old-fashioned” stock photos.

Whenever I do my moodboards for period-based short stories, I fucking cannot stand being unable to find historically-accurate stock photos. I hate that all I can ever find is chicks in modern curls and makeup wearing an “old-fashioned” dress. It enrages me. This cover enrages me. And sure, Whitefern is a modern story restricted in a world where the attitudes and opulence of the 80s never change, as with all V.C. Andrews books), but this cover has some major 2008 Twilight cover vibes and I hate it.

Just spend the damn money for an artist, Simon & Shuster. I bet you’d find a decent V.C. Andrews purist on Fiverr. Not that I advocate for cheap undervalued labour under capitalism, but like, I just want my old V.C. Andrews covers back. It’s not too much to ask for.

Whitefern: The Grown-Ass Review

It’s funny because literally everyone on every V.C. Andrews group I’ve seen online hates the absolute shit out of this book and warns everyone against reading it. I was very excited to dive into Whitefern simply because people were so offended by it. So whether you read it and want your feelings validated or are simply trying to save yourself some time from reading it, allow me to indulge you in the true awfulness that is Whitefern.

A Tragic Death

Damien dies, but that was a given, considering his death is mentioned in the synopsis as the plot device that triggers this book’s “plot” into motion. His fatherly passing, which takes place in that annoying back and forth slipping through time narrative that Neiderman uses to churn out pages without establishing a plot, doesn’t really amount to much, other than to Sylvia, who cannot process the death.

In order to make Damien’s death consequential to Audrina, Neiderman then slips some random family quotes into Audrina’s swiss cheese memory. This is frustrating because every time he makes Audrina remember her dead mother or her dead dad or her dead Aunt Ellsbeth (who has a SHIT TON of quotes that didn’t appear in My Sweet Audrina, mind you), his writing of those dead characters doesn’t reign true to who those characters were when they were alive.

He does it simply to make Audrina’s memories more romantic. He’s treating her as a brand new V.C. Andrews character and not as one that, you know, literally has an entire fucking book he could have used to source quotes from.

A Rags to Riches Plot

Anyway, as I mentioned, Damien’s death brings up the issue of the will, in which he gives 51% of the family’s estate to Audrina. This sends a newly cartoon-ified Arden into a fury:

“Why did he do this?” he ranted, marching up and down in front of Sylvia and me and waving his arms as violently as if he wanted to throw off his hands.

page 15

Like no joke, people. Arden was a real piece of work in My Sweet Audrina, but Neiderman couldn’t figure out how to characterize him without making him react in absolute theatrics over everything. His quotes were so cliche and he was so blatantly misogynist and hateful towards his own fucking wife that it was really hard to get my online troll senses to stop tingling.

“He just wished he had a song to inherit everything. Every man wants that. I became his son. He said that to me after he married my mother. Or, at least, I thought I had become his son. What father would do this to his own son?” he asked, waving the papers in our faces.

page 18

Arden goes on to mock Audrina for not knowing dick about the stock market. She tries to defend herself, but then he refers to her childhood tactic of tying a birthstone to a ring to choose stocks for Damien to buy and claims that all Whitefern women believe in crazy voodoo shit WHEN IT WAS ACTUALLY DAMIEN WHO BELIEVED THAT MAGIC WOULD SOMEHOW TAKE ALL OF AUDRINA’S RAPE TRAUMA AWAY. He goes on to explain just how much the times have changed.

“Well, hear this, Audrina. There’s no magic in our business. It takes knowledge and experience. You dont’ really have either when it comes to the stock market, especially today. It’s too sophisticated. You’d do no better than… than her!” he screamed, pointing at Sylvia.

page 18

Sylvia, still upset over the death of her father, starts to cry. Audrina tries to console her and then Arden blames her for having more sympathy for Sylvia (who he refers to as “that”), instead of her own cartoon dumpster fire of a husband.

A Short List of Shitty Things Arden Says and Does in Whitefern

“You could put aside your grief for a moment and compliment me,” he whispered, “especially in front of these people. I am your husband, the head of the household, dedicated to protecting you and Sylvia. I deserve respect, more respect, now.”

page 21

“The point is you should think more about being a housewife than a stockbroker. I’m the stockbroker. Get a hobby. Do needlework or join a book club, and have the women over for tea and talk like some of the other broker’ wives I know. I don’t know why your father did this, this vengeful thing!” he said, slapping at his papers.

page 63

Medical doctors like Dr. Prescott don’t understand the emotional power a woman can employ without herself even realizing it,” he’d said. “I read up on it. Until you really, really want to enjoy sex with me, you’ll never get pregnant.”

page 115

“Women paint their faces. They look in their mirrors and sometimes turn pale, homely mugs into faces a man would at least glance at. If course, when they wash it off, you’d rather not be there.” Then he leaned over to whipser, “That’s why most men like to make love to their wives in the dark.”

page 143

…he marched angrily out of the living room, his arms stiffly at his sides, his hands clenched in fists.

page 19

Audrina herself doesn’t do a whole lot in this book. Just moves back and forth between being berated by a perpetually *TRIGGERED* Arden, and then going back to taking care of her poor and utterly helpless sister. I only say poor and helpless because that’s how Audrina keeps portraying her…

An Innocent & Pretty, Yet Completely Naive Female Protagonist

Sylvia is now 20, which means that Whitefern picks up 8-10 years after the closing events of My Sweet Audrina. If we’re going by the original publishing date of My Sweet Audrina (1982) as the timestamp of the novel’s events, then Whitefern takes place in 1990-1992ish. Since then, Audrina and Arden have decided to keep Sylvia sheltered at home because they worry about how people will treat her in public. Which is… difficult to handle as a reader.

Here’s how Sylvia reacts to her father’s death:

She looked at me, scowled, and then looked back at him, but she didn’t move, nor did she let go of his hand. The words apparently made no sense to her. I knew what she was thinking: How can he be gone if he is still here in his bed? Sylvia always took everything literally, expecting the truth to be straightforward, the way children did.

page 5

It’s frustrating to see Audrina continually portray Sylvia this way, even though Sylvia can speak in full sentences now. She can do intermediate household tasks like cooking and cleaning. She can put on her clothes and do her makeup. BUT THEN AUDRINA KEEPS CALLING HER A CHILD.

I feel like V.C. Andrews portrayed Sylvia’s earlier years in a more realistic light. She had her prisms and used Billie’s cart and had “patterns” of behaviour. I hesitate to really say what is right and wrong in how to correctly portray characters with mental and behavioural issues. Audrina and Arden keep saying she’s invalid or mentally deficient. Sylvia at times displays a complete understanding of situations, and then other times will speak in single words when Neiderman needs to convey her inability to function. Sylvia apparently can’t brush her teeth but can cut vegetables for a salad really well? She can’t understand that her father is dead but can thoughtfully paint human-like shadows into her abstract art?

There’s no fucking consistency!

Honestly, for most of the book, Sylvia felt like a functional adult who just maybe needed a guidance counsellor that wasn’t sheltered and naive AF like Audrina.

The most problematic part of all is that she is continually described like this:

Sylvia’s innocent beauty wasn’t a big secret. I took her shopping with me often, and people saw her at events we brought her to, especially events involving Papa’s business when he was still working hard. She always drew compliments but had no idea how to respond. When she lowered her eyes and smiled, however, she looked like she was flirting or trying to because she was shy. On several occasions, young men had inquired about taking her out.

page 45

Audrina claims that she educated Sylvia about sex, using both science AND fantasy, somehow? But then later…

How long could I keep her chaste, I wondered, and should I do so for a long as I could? She had the mind of a child but the desire of a woman now. Was it fair to deny her the pleasure of her sex? Was it possible for someone who would sincerely care for her and love her and satisfy her womanly needs?

page 45

She is literally Rita Leeds from Arrested Development:

And to that, I say, just let Syliva have pop pop, Audrina! She’s a fucking woman!

A Beloved Doting Paternal Figure

Perhaps this was why Papa had left me the controlling interest in his business. He knew this might happen to me, and he wanted me to have a path away from it all. He finally wanted me to find a life outside of this house and its dreadful memories. There were many times when he was proud of me, proud of my comments and ideas. Maybe he had come to believe that a girl could carry on her father’s successes as well as a boy could. Arden simply didn’t fit the bill for him.

page 32

SO MUCH OF THIS BOOK (like probs 70%, no joke) is just Audrina speculating shit. Like maybe 30% of it is her making up Aunt Ellsbeth quotes and then wondering why Arden is a piece of shit. She was literally about to leave him and the house in My Sweet Audrina but then decided to stay on the last two pages because she was concerned about leaving Sylvia with her dad. Like what the fuck, Audrina? Your dad is dead and he lovingly left you control and you KNOW that Arden sucks ass. You literally figured it all out on page 32. JUST FUCKING LEAVE.

But she doesn’t. Because more stuff needs to not happen between Audrina and Arden. Like how Arden wants a kid but how Audrina can’t get pregnant. Or how, in every scene Arden appears in, he harasses her to sign 100% control over the estate to him. Somehow, Audrina manages to dodge her way out of it by claiming that she needs to help Sylvia instead of standing up for herself and saying Fuck No, Asshole.

I hated the idea that I might spend my days reliving all the pain, that his death had opened the floodgates. Again, I told myself that what was important now, now that I was living in Whitefern without Papa, was finding a new sense of myself while still caring for Sylvia. I would have to be reborn yet again and become a third Audrina.

page 33

Seriously, her internal monologue goes back and forth. It’s like reading therapy notes of a completely uninvolved therapist, who then just leaves Audrina to float spinelessly through life without any guidance.

Audrina Adare in Whitefern, 2016 (colorized)

Lemme also just clarify that she’s not an ocean jellyfish that strings. She’s one of those jellyfish from Jellyfish Lake in Palau, where all the jellyfish evolved without stingers in the same way that Audrina evolved in Whitefern without a fucking spine or ability to have internal thoughts and like… actually learn shit and utilize those thoughts to adapt to situations IRL.

Some Good Olde School Misogyny

Another thing that Arden spends his time berating Audrina over is her inability (or rather, their, inability) to have children. Arden insists that he’s not the one shooting blanks. But then Sylvia has a dream that Audrina will, in fact, have a baby. Audrina brings this information to Arden,

He turned sharply and threw the covers off us as if they were on fire.

“What are you doing?

“It’s baby time. Sylvia has declared it.”

“I don’t understand, Arden.”

“Nothing to understand,” he said. “Only to do.”

He reached down and pulled my nightgown up and out of his way, practically tearing it off me. I cried out, but before I could say another word, he scooped my legs up and pressed his hardness into me so roughly I lost my breath for a moment. I was shocked at how fast and easily he could be ready. He didn’t bother kissing me or touching me tenderly anywhere. Instead, he hovered above me like a hawk, pouncing.

“Baby, baby, baby, he chanted, as he pushed and prodded, twisting me this way and that so he cuould be more comfortable. His grunts made it sound like he was lifting a heavy weight. I couldn’t stand the sight of him like this and put my hands over my eyes. On he pushed and prodded. I felt like he was tearing me up. The bed sounded like it would crash to the floor. At one point, my head hit the headboard, but he was oblivious to everything but his own animal satisfaction. This wasn’t even sex to me; it was anger and revenge.

page 69

I wanna say “Nice.” because this shit happened on page 69, but I can’t because it’s terrible.

Note: Neiderman also has this crutch of using the term “this and that”, or some form of the phrase with every V.C. Andrews character he writes. I get it. I’m a writer and I’ve got my own set of crutch phrases that I use over and over, but like, can somebody tell him about this problem? He needs to know. It’s important that he knows.

A Vivid Gothic Setting

Shortly after Damien’s death, Sylvia starts painting him in pictures in the cupola. She thinks this is a good thing and immediately spends 100 pages of the book trying to persuade Arden to get an art teacher for her. Eventually, he relents and they hire a retired high school art teacher, Arthur Price, to come over and teach Sylvia how to paint in the cupola that Audrina turns into an art studio.

Sylvia then starts to claim that she hears Damien speak to her when she sits in the rocking chair. As the plot “thickens” (and I put that in quotes because it really doesn’t thicken so much as Neiderman throws in a fuck-ton of rehashed memories of Audrina’s that relate to whatever mundane thought she’s having. Most of these memories are Aunt Ellsbeth quotes that didn’t appear in My Sweet Audrina that sound NOTHING like anything that Aunt Ellsbeth would have said.

And for the record, I know I’m making a giant deal out of this but those quotes bothered me more than they should have.

Eventually, a slight bit of intrigue picks up when Arden starts coming to bed at weird hours. I mean, to the reader it’s pretty obvious what’s going on, but then Syliva starts saying that Damien starts saying that there’s a baby coming. Which, I dunno, it’s a promise of something more than Audrina’s mind-numbing train of thought so I did my best to appreciate it.

Now, I loved the cupola setting in My Sweet Audrina. It was magical and thoroughly described. In Whitefern, it just serves as a setting for this to happen:

Quietly and slowly, I opened the door.

But then I froze.

Mr. Price was sitting in Sylvia’s chair in front of her easel, and Sylvia was standing in front of him, her beautiful, full breasts uncovered, her hands clasped behind her head. She wore only her skirt, but it was lowered beneath her belly button. Her eys were shifted so that she was looking at the ceiling.

I screamed, a scream so piercing that it knifed through both of them. Mr. Price raised his shoulders as if he’d been slapped on the back o fhis neck, and Sylvia brought her hands down and looked at me in confusion. He rose, turned, and backed away, his hands up and pumping the air as if he though that would keep me away.

“Now… don’t get excited. I can explain—” he said.

page 145

Audrina kicks Mr. Price out of the house and commands that Sylvia take a seat on the “settee” which, as we all know right now, must be Andrew Neiderman’s favourite word, because now that I think of it, Whitefern has a major lack of the word “bosom” within its too-many pages.

Audrina calls Arden, who tells her not to inform the police about the matter because, surprise surprise, it would make him look bad at the brokerage. Audrina then interrogates Sylvia, asking where Mr. Price touched her and what they did. Sylvia claims that he just wanted to draw her, but Audrina thoroughly establishes that “bad things happened in the cupola”, but then also wonders if Sylvia has the capacity to understand that she was sexually abused.

She thought for a moment and then looked at me and said, “I liked it, Audrina.”

page 154

Audrina goes on to tell Sylvia that she shouldn’t let just anyone touch her, but is certain that Sylvia will never understand why. But bitch, Syliva is 20 and is clearly showing signs of sexuality. She gets it. Now, the abuse of power in this situation is what’s actually gross, because Mr. Price was her art teacher and was obviously manipulating his power to get Sylvia to do things for his satisfaction.

Instead of having a real discussion about her sexuality, Audrina and Arden just pretend like it never happened and shelter poor Sylvia even more.

Fantastic Psychological Horror

Audrina swells with guilt over the situation, which brings up all the trauma from her own childhood experience. Arden takes notice of this and tries to suggest that she get some “mood stabilizers”, but then Audrina refuses, knowing that if she has to talk to a doctor to get a prescription that she’ll have to explain what happened to Sylvia, which is what caused her “depression”. Which isn’t true. She’s got legit unresolved trauma that’s still fucking her up right now. Like the distorted and closeted reality of her situation is so infuriating.

JUST GET SOME THERAPY, AUDRINA.

Unfortunately, Audrina’s got Arden for a husband, and he brings home some random pills that he forces her to take by gaslighting the shit out of her:

“This is not anything terrible. It’s just going to help you manage. It’s time to do something. Sylvia is becoming affected by your dark moods, too, Audrina. She’s even starting to eat poorly, and I fear she’s losing interest in her art. She might be blaming herself or thinking we’re both blaming her now. She’ll get sickly and return to the half vegetable she was. Is that what you want?”

page 161

And that’s not even the worst part, because he continues:

“…she may not be slow about many things, but she’s not blind. Anyone, even Sylvia, can see that you’re not looking after yourself as well as you usually do. Sometimes you look like a hag, a bag lady wandering aimlessly.”

page 161

Audrina takes the pills, along with some wine that Arden says the doctor said she could take alongside the pills. They all have dinner and then Arden puts on music and they all dance and laugh. Audrina falls asleep on the couch, then wakes later with no idea how much time has passed. She struggled to make her way upstairs, passing out again beside Arden in bed. Later, she wakes from a dream to find Arden missing, and she navigates the house to find him whispering outside of the rocking chair room. She wonders who he’s whispering to, and approaches only to see Sylvia sitting naked in the rocking chair. Then Arden turns, only to have Damien’s face.

She wakes again, back in her bed. Arden is still missing, but she finds Syliva back in the cupola, painting.

She sat back, and I saw the baby she had begun to draw now completed and painted in watercolors. Only she had painted his eyes a flaming red, so bright they looked like a fire was burning behind them. Every little detail of the baby’s face was just as vivid, from the twist in his mouth that gave him a ridiculing smile to the thinness of his slightly pointed nose and the gauntness in his cheeks. She had drawn a baby, but it looked like a man in a baby’s body.

page 166

It’s not foreshadowing, but this is straight-up foreshadowing to a very specific man baby being the cause of every single problem in this book.

Sylvia insists that Damien told her to paint the baby this way. Then, as the days continue and Audrina keeps taking her pills to make man baby Arden happy. AND IT DOES! He gaslights a happy world for her to comply in, but then one day, Audrina takes Sylvia shopping.

I got us matching shoes, too. Despite her poorer eating habits for a while after the incident with Mr. Price, I noticed she had gained weight. She didn’t look too heavy; it wasn’t anything like that. In fact, she looked like she was blossoming, filling out. Even her breasts looked somewhat larger.

page 169

And my friend, we all know what this means…

SHE’S PREGNANT!

Audrina panics and calls Arden at work again. He gets grumpy but then sources a retired maternity nurse, Helen Matthews, to come and confirm the pregnancy. Arden then suggests that they should just hide Sylvia’s pregnancy and pretend that the baby is Audrina’s after it’s born, and he makes this lie official when the family goes out for dinner and he brags to his coworker about Audrina’s “pregnancy” while Sylvia’s shoving a chocolate souffle in her face.

A Hostile Maternal Figure

Helen Matthews comes over and confirms the pregnancy. She becomes a less-serve version of Emily Booth when she moves into the mansion and insists that Audrina move Sylvia into one of the neglected and unheated bedrooms downstairs because pregnant women shouldn’t be climbing so much or whatever.

In addition to taking care of Sylvia, Mrs. Matthews also rigs up a fake pregnancy belly for Audrina to wear and stuff with wool to make it look as though she’s really pregnant. Over time, Audrina starts having real pregnancy symptoms as well, which arent’ entirely explained. There were moments in the book where I started to wonder if she was actually pregnant or if she was still taking the drugs that made her hallucinate things. Sadly, Neidnerman’s writing never really established proper grounding or even created a proper sense of distortion that made Audrina’s narration seem unreliable.

All we really get is this:

When I reached the mirror in the hallway, the full-length one in the mahogany frame, I glanced at myself and paused. I did look pregnant, but I felt idiotic. I was a walking, talking lie. What would I say when people in the supermarket stopped to ask how I was and if I had any idea if my baby would be a boy or a girl?

“It will be neither,” I whispered. “It will be a hunk of wool.”

I couldn’t help laughing. I was still laughing when I entered the Roman Revival salon and saw Mrs. Matthews sitting with Sylvia nd helping her do her jigsaw puzzle. They both looked up, surprised, which only caused me to laugh harder.

page 224

And also:

I went to bed early that night. I was as exhausted as a real pregnant woman might be. It was getting very weird, I thought. There were times when I imagined a baby moving inside me, just the way it was moving inside Sylvia, surprising, frightening, and exciting her almost at the same time. As a matter of fact, it felt like it was kicking right now.

page 225

Me, to Andrew Neiderman:

Six weeks to Sylvia’s due date, Mrs. Matthews takes Audrina out to do some grocery shopping so everybody in town can see just how “pregnant” Audrina is. It’s at the supermarket that Audrina crashes into a woman who tells her that Mr. Price had a stroke and is now paralyzed on his right side. This sends Audrina into a spiral, which Mrs. Matthew’s capitalizes on. She makes it seem like a “delicate pregnancy” issue and everyone, including Adren, congratulates Audrina on her “performance.”

Audrina then, rightfully so, has a mental breakdown, but this is the fucking vanity-induced breakdown Neiderman lets her have:

“Something’s not right with me, Arden.I know you can’t take me to see Dr. Prescott or have him come here, but I am so unenergetic these days. Half the time I don’t even try to get up out of bed. I don’t care about what I’m wearing. I’ve been in this bathrobe for days, I think. That’s another thing, Arden. I’ve been having trouble remembering things, even things I think I did the day before. I know you haven’t been around that much these past weeks, but surely you see a difference in me. Surely you do!” Now my tears were free to streak down my cheeks. “Look at my hair,” I cried, tugging on the loose, wiry strands. “I can’t recall when I last cared to put on lipstick. I’m turning into some sort of hag, something you accused me of once.”

page 254

Me:

Arden, however, actually sympathizes with Audrina. Then he admits that he’s been having Mrs. Matthews dose her with tranquillizers to help her deal with her anxiety. Audrina gets angry, but not really. It all amounts to nothing because at this point we’re really all just gearing up for the baby to be born.

And yes, the baby is born premature, as babies often are born in V.C. Andrews novels. This time, however, when Sylvia goes into labour, nothing really happens. Why? BECAUSE AUDRINA ISN’T GOING INTO CONTRACTIONS AND SYLVIA ONLY DOES WHAT AUDRINA DOES!

“Push!” Mrs. Matthews cried. “Push! I can see the baby’s head.”

Suddenly, seconds felt like minutes. I felt my cheeks and realized I was breaking into a sweat. My heart was pounding. I took deep breaths. Did I feel pain? Maybe I was going mad myself, but I realzied I was actually pushing. All I had read about giving birth ran through my mind. This was how it went; this was what to do. Finally, Sylvia and I let out a last, almost primeval scream, and then Mrs. Matthews lifted the baby, with the umbilical cord still attached, and placed the newborn girl, crying and covered in blood, on my stomach—not Sylvia’s.”

page 274

Sylvia names the baby “Adelle”, and Arden comes home and the family immediately plays into the ruse that the baby is Audrina’s. I guess all goes well, considering Sylvia deals with no confusion over the matter, playing helper to Audrina, making the bottles, etc.

Arden builds a nursery out of “The First Audrina’s” room. Audrina, however, worries that Mrs. Matthews might spill the ultimate secret of Adelle’s origin, but Arden finally confesses that Mrs. Matthews’ son, Philip, was one of the original boys who raped Audrina, and that if she says anything bout the baby that he’ll tell the truth about Philip.

Which is…pointless, really. Audrina takes a page to redigest the trauma of her rape yet again, and then they go back to pretending to be a happy couple with a new baby.

Incest!

Mrs. Matthews finally moves out and life returns to normal. But then one day, Mr. Price’s wife Emmeline stops by to bring news of Arthur’s death. She tries to make him seem all noble and sophisticated before claiming his innocence:

“What I’m trying to say is that Arthur was a lover of beauty anywhere he saw it. He could get inspire d by a unique tree or the way an alderly man sat and stared while he thought about his life. He did a wonderful picture of that man, and a museum in Boston now has it. What I mean to say is that Athur was a real artist, Mrs. Lowe, and not someone just amusing himself.”

age 316

She continues:

“The point is that my husband really appreciated you sister’s beauty, but from an artist’s point of view.”

page 317

It’s not over yet:

He meant no harm. He was so upset over the misunderstatanding, she said, dabbing at her eyes. “For day dnday afte ryourh usband came to our home and screamed at him, he sat in the corer of his studio and stared at a blank canvas. He ate very little and was up often at night just walking around the house. I’m sure the stree brought about his stroke.”

page 318

Audrina steels herself, but then Sylvia comes into the room with Adelle. Audrina tells Sylvia to go make lunch, and Mrs. Price STILL GOES ON.

“She’s a very beautiful young lady. I can see what drove Arthur to do what he did.”

page 318

Finally, we get to the point we all knew was coming. Mrs. Price reveals that Mr. Price had testicular cancer or some shit at one point and couldn’t bear children. Then we all come full circle and Audrina finally, FINALLY get’s a bit of backbone to confront Arden about his most recent aggregious sin:

“I had these dreams—at least, I thought they were dreams—of you standing outside the first Audrina’s room and whispering thorugh the door while Sylvia rocked in the rocking chair. You impersonated my father and told her to do things. You told her she had to keep everything secret. It wasn’t a dream, was it?

He didn’t reply. He stood there looking at me.

“You’re the one who raped my sister, Arden. You’re the one who took advantage of her. Did you do this for your own selfish pleasure?”

page 329

Arden insists that the lies he told and the “plan” he established to get them a family borne of Whitefern blood was all well and good. He and Audrina argue a bit, of course before the infamous staircase. And well, then Audrina follows him up, Arden shakes her and affirms that he is now the patriarch in the most ridiculous fashion:

“I’m Papa here! I’m Papa!” he bellowed.

page 333

Then Arden falls and dies and then the epilogue happens where Audrina considers selling Whitefern, and then doesn’t actually. The sisters just dance with baby Adelle held between them and that’s the end of this miserable book.

Some Really Bad Writing

I’m gonna use this section to throw more shade at Audrina for her insanely sexual thoughts about her sister because this book is an overflowing trash can Neiderman just kept stacking more and more garbage on top of instead of tying the bag up and taking out the trash like he should have with this entire fucking book.

In this first excerpt, Audrina takes some time to come Sylvia’s hair before her mirror and shows a whole lot more of his disgusting misogynist sentiment than she probably should:

What a dirty trick nature had played on her, to giver her this much beauty but not enough mentally to have a wonderful life. She could easily attract a handsome, young, wealthy man who would devote himself to her, build her a bigger home than Whitefern and all the jewelry and clothes she could want. Every man like that would turn to look at her now, but a moment later, when he tried to speak with her, he would surely lose his entheusasism quickly and look for a fast exit.

page 76

In this passage, Audrina worries yet again about how men might take advantage of Sylvia. Right after it, she mentions how she taught Sylvia to make a fucking grocery list and how important it was to write everything down with correct spelling in proper cursive. And guess what, SYLVIA UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT. She even learned how to treat the damn cashiers politely, which is something most grown-ass adults don’t know how to do.

Ever since she was fourteen, when I looked at her and realized she had developed a woman’s figure almost overnight, I knew she would need special care and protection. I realized she had a beautiful face and a shapely young body. It was then that a girl really became vulnerable and needed to know how to protect herself and what to look for in a man’s face that would tell her he was lusting after her only for his own selfish pleasure. It didn’t think it was possible to get her to recognize that. She had a child’s trusting nature. The warning snad alarm bells simply were not hooked up inside her the way they were for most girls and women.

page 81

JUST TEACH YOUR SISTER ABOUT SEX, AUDRINA!

Okay, so that brings me to my final thoughts.

Whitefern: My Final Thoughts

As I’ve said before, Whitefern is probably one of the most-hated V.C. Andrews books of all time. V.C. Andrews fans love to hate on Andrew Neiderman every time a new book comes out with her name on it, and I personally don’t think that’s an entirely fair assessment of the situation. Like the dude was literally hired to ghostwrite her books. Simon & Shuster likes to pump out attic sequels and prequels and tie-ins like fucking rabbits, and all the Lifetime movies are the most-watched films that the shitty company has ever released.

Here, in 2022, we’re in peak V.C. Andrews nostalgia mode. Andrew Neiderman is just a writer (like me!) who under contract (unlike me!) has to keep writing. I mean, sure, if Neiderman was burnt out, penning book after book with Andrews’s voice, he’d probably not continue signing the contract whenever it’s up for renewal, but like, I bet the pay is pretty decent. I also bet that the Andrews estate likes the money her books still bring in too.

Like many readers, I am of the opinion that the V.C. Andrews formula is tired and hasn’t exactly stood the test of time. Once we entered the 00s, it seemed that Neiderman had to adapt a bit to maintain the mainstream audiences, but by then, people were moving on to Twilight and other such YA offerings. There’s still a place in my dark heart for the dark and salacious, but it’s clear that Neiderman has less to write about than he previously did, like with the Landry and Cutler series’.

In Whitefern, he struggles to capture the original voice of Audrina. He also had so few characters to really work with, maintaining the original setting and the isolation of the house itself. Maybe if it has been a novella or a novelette, he could have worked up something good, but it’s clear that he had a word count he needed to hit and little plot to fill it with. Hence the myriad of “flashbacks”. Hence the repetitiveness.

In the end, My Sweet Audrina clearly did not need a sequel and this book was clearly just a cash cow to what is now Simon & Shuster’s obvious long-reaching rake into the pool of V.C. Andrews nostalgia.

The post WHITEFERN: A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

So Much Curling It’s Making Me Hard

Hey, friends. As of late, I haven’t been posting as often. I’ve had a very difficult time with finding the time to tend to my blog, despite wanting to. I feel awful that I haven’t been able to keep up with my moodboards and my V.C. Andrews reviews, but such is the life of a retail-working mom writer. There are times when my writing feels like a silly hobby I should spend less time on for the sake of putting laundry away. There are others when I stay up late and sacrifice precious sleep to get stories done.

Anyway, I have wanted to update more on personal stuff on this blog. I don’t often talk about the goings-on in my life, but when I do I always get such lovely responses about what it’s like to just be a writer struggling in the meatgrinder of trying to find relevance.

Fucking Covid

I don’t wanna talk much about covid, because who the fuck does these days? But since Omicron came out and we were all told that we would all get it, I still found myself convinced that I’d never get it. But then I started chatting with other parents from my daughter’s school. Half of them got covid over the holidays. It was crazy because up until then, I could pretty much count all the people I personally knew who had covid on one hand.

The previous Sunday I took the kids to an outdoor sledding birthday party. Then, on Monday, two kids from the party were sick all week. Then another one got sick and was stuck in bed. And then I found out that that kid’s teacher had recently had covid. I then realized that I knew jack shit about the school protocols about informing people of whether or not there were positive cases. From what I know, all contact tracing was pretty much tossed out the window because Omicron was so spreadable and yet so weak with people who’d had the vaccine.

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe)

Anyway, the next day I woke up fatigued and with a headache and aching muscles and even just the thought of pushing my son’s stroller up the hill to take my daughter to school was too much to fucking bear. So I excused her from school and stayed home, hoping the symptoms wouldn’t worsen.

The next day I got tested and lo and behold, it came back negative. So I dunno if I was just being a baby or if my entire body just hated me because I haven’t been working much and literally spent four days in a row sitting in a fucking chair watching three curling games a day.

I do feel much better now, though?

Too Much Curling

Okay, so if you follow me on Twitter, you know that I love curling. I really am not much of a sports person. I also hate the idea of turning people off of my feed by talking about sports too much around people who aren’t into sports, because fuck those people. But curling’s one of those sports that people always mock, which makes for great Twitter content, honestly.

But late winter is always peak curling season, especially here in Canada. We have the men’s and women’s national championships, and this year we also have the 2022 Olympics, so I was primed and ready for curling. Some of my writing network discussed the weirdness of curling. Many “hurry hard!” jokes were made.

The funny thing about the phrase “hurry hard” is that no curlers actually say this anymore. They literally just yell “HARD” over and over and it sounds way more suggestive than the jokes make it sound. And so when the Scotties Tournament of Hearts started in the first week of February, I started live-tweeting #suggestivecurlingquotes.

It was an attempt to engage with curling on my Twitter in an “on-brand” way for me, because we all know my writing is salacious and that I love a good dirty joke. Honestly, it was fun. People enjoyed them.

This is just but a sampling of what I tweeted, so check out the hashtag for all my dirty curling quotes in their glory:

“It’s a little deep right now.” #suggestivecurlingquotes #STOH2022

— Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rjoneshowe) February 5, 2022

“That’s the widest we’ve been.” #suggestivecurlingquotes #stoh2022

— Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rjoneshowe) February 5, 2022

“Keep it going. Push, push, push, push. Keep it going. You’re almost there! It’s almost there!” #suggestivecurlingquotes #stoh2022

— Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rjoneshowe) February 3, 2022

The Olympics are always fun as a curling fan on Twitter, because people always end up watching curling who never watch curling and suddenly get really into it. I am looking forward to seeing what kind of buzz the 4-person curling tournament creates, with USA’s John Shuster making a return for the gold, and both Canada’s Jennifer Jones (2014 Gold) and Brad Gushue (2006 Gold) are back to compete again. Hopefully, they’re in better shape than Canada’s mixed-doubles curling team was this year, because uh…

Okay, I’m Sorry But I’m Gonna Talk About Curling for a Hot Minute

Okay, so curling’s like a hot thing in Canada. We love to talk about hockey, but curling is truly cemented into our identity. Like 90% of the world’s curlers are Canadian and curling fans, in particular, have ridiculously high expectations of our athletes when they compete at the International level. Problem is that Canada doesn’t really do much to support our athletes when they compete at the International level.

Back in 2014 at the Sochi Olympic Games, Canada won what it called its very first “double double”, named after the Tim Horton’s coffee, wherein we earned gold medals in both Men’s and Women’s Hockey AND Men’s and Women’s Curling. Since then, we’ve attempted to chase that high, but 2018 didn’t bode well for us. (Canada got a Bronze in Men’s Hockey, and the infamous Women’s Team lost the Gold medal game to long-time rivals in the USA.) Curling was even worse, as Canada’s Rachel Homan team placed 6th in Women’s Curling and Kevin Koe’s rink lost the Bronze medal game for the men.

Since then, Canada’s been trying to figure out why we’re not the best anymore, even though the truth is that we know exactly why. This great article came out just before the 2022 Olympics began, which in great detail elaborates on how quickly the rest of the world has improved in curling. The other curlers get support and funding. Canadian elite curlers literally still have full-time day jobs. Former Canadian greats even go on to coach international teams, so like… it’s kind of hard to not expect these other countries to come out with a whip and beat us into submission.

But then we get to mixed doubles curling. I was really excited to watch our mixed doubles trials in December, but then Omicron ended up cancelling that, and Curling Canada took an insane amount of time choosing which team to send to represent us. They chose John Morris and Rachael Homan. Morris actually won Gold in 2018 with Kaitlyn Lawes, which again sent Canadian fans into a fury of expectation for this new team. The problem?

John and Rachael literally had like two fucking weeks to prepare for the Olympics.

I mean, here at home, we know they’re good and have consistently done well. But you can’t just expect to send two good players out with teams who been spending upwards of 4 years preparing for the Olympics and expect to win. But still, that’s what Canada did, and watching some of those games was honestly so brutal and gut-wrenching.

Curling in Canada gets particularly intense, hence the yellowing. It was weird to see the International teams so calm and serene as they settled into the hack and lobbed off shot after shot. Some of the players didn’t even yell much? They sounded totally calm and normal?

Canada, well, sounded like that one person you sometimes play Smash Bros. with who takes the game WAY TOO SERIOUSLY. They yelled and screamed and you could literally feel the stress through the screen. I sat so with my limbs so tight and strained. I could barely watch the fucking shots. My nerves were absolutely rattled. Still, Canada maintained a decent position in the rankings, but then they lost against Australia, a team that had only racked up on losses until they battled Canada. (John Morris also coaches the Australian team, so it was one of those “student becomes the teacher” moments for sure).

Then came the MUST WIN game for Canada to keep their medal hopes alive. And it was against Italy. The only unbeaten team in the championship. The team that every curling fan was like asking about, like WTF HOW ARE THEY IN THE LEAD?! So Canada goes in, fares reasonably well, but then the game goes to an extra end, and with hammer (last rock, for you non-curling fans), Rachel Homan is forced to make this draw that was excruciating and that I will never ever ever forget.

I literally had a hard time sleeping after watching this fucking game.

The whole shot made for the most painful watch, honestly. All of me was hardened and worn, and watching that measure was torture. The emotions ran high and tense. I kind of tried my best to savor it so I could use it for fiction later. That’s the cool thing about caring about sports. Just the act of witnessing really takes you places, for sure.

So yeah, no medal for Canada in mixed doubles. Feeling that loss really took me back to when my novel got rejected and I know the feeling. We all know that feeling when we lose something we placed such high importance on. It takes you out for a while. In terms of my novel, I’m still a bit taken down now. Looking back, I just feel so bad that these two were under that kind of pressure. Most curlers talk about what it’s like to “wear the maple leaf on your back” when playing internationally, and it’s true. It’s a lot. At the end of the day, it’s just curling, and considering that John and Rachel barely had time to train and had little experience with playing other international mixed doubles teams, 5th is pretty good.

And honestly, congrats to Italy. They put a lot into their game and it clearly paid off well.

A Whole Lotta Not Writing

Anyway, so I’m sure this is why I’ve been feeling like total ass all week. I TRIED to write. I did get some writing in too, and even did some plotting for a novella project that actually relates to curling, so in theory, all this sports-watching has actually been researching.

In January, I got a quick burst of writing and managed to pen a flash fiction story in just four days. I was proud of it, but it’s since been rejected twice, so I dunno if I should just put it into my collection or try it elsewhere. The story revolves around a pretty sensitive topic, so I know its market is pretty limited.

I’ve also been trying to write a piece of short fiction since December. It’s the final story in my planned gothic collection. It’s in my head but it’s taking far longer to form than I’d hoped for. I’m tired. I’m distracted. I have such little energy to devote to writing these days. But I plug away. At this point, I’m at around 200 words a night or so, which isn’t much but is something.

I’ve deleted a lot and written more to delete the next night. But I think I’ve carved myself a nice little place to fester in for a bit. To let the ideas bloom a bit. This new story is set during the Klondike gold rush and I’m so keen to write it, but the characters just haven’t quite formed yet. I’m brewing them, though. Sometimes writing just needs a longer steeping time, so I’m allowing myself that.

In the meantime, you can just out my latest works, “Modern Ruins”, “A Patient, A Guest”, and the upcoming “Hostages” below:

Things Will Get Better Soon

The days are getting longer. The snow is melting. At least, in Kamloops, it is. I love the sound of the water dripping down the gutters. I hate slipping over the ice when I take my daughter to school every morning, but maybe it’ll be another week of this and the sidewalks will clear. I’ve been sleeping better, though. Some days are a bit of a slog but I’m really trying to lean into things that make me feel better in times of stress.

This week, it was curling. My writing productivity may have suffered a bit, but the intention is still there. I’m excited for what’s to come.

Have You Been Watching the Olympics?

What’s your sport of choice and why is it not curling?

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Revisiting “Hostages” – On Rewriting An Old Story For A New Audience

At the end of 2021, I was encouraged to contribute to an anthology with a theme that was practically made for me. Gothic dark eroticism. Problem was, I didn’t really have the time to write a new story, as it was Christmas (which always cuts my writing time short) and I was also already in the middle of some other projects. Anyway, I asked Cassandra, editor of Quill & Crow Publishing House, if I could submit a rewritten story to the anthology, Eros & Thanatos, An Anthology of Death & Desire, which drops on February 11, 2022.

The story I chose was “Hostages”, which I originally wrote in 2020. You can read all about what inspired it in the moodboard post.

The trees thickened as Edward pulled her onward, their limbs hanging down, the green needles looped together like nooses.

A New “Hostages”

The story I chose to submit because it contained both sex and death themes, was “Hostages”, the very first story I wrote for my 2020 Patreon endeavour. I’d always loved “Hostages”. I set it in Whistler, British Columbia, which is one of my favourite places. It was also my first attempt at writing “modern gothic” fiction, although it was still written in first person present tense and with a very minimalistic voice.

Excerpt from the Original draft of “Hostages”, 2020Applying a New Voice

Since writing gothic fiction last summer, I’ve relied on third-person past tense POV. Once, it was my least-favourite POV, but I’ve managed to appreciate it because it allows me to embrace my own voice instead of worrying too much about how my characters sound. (For the longest time I used first person, but over the years it was really starting to make me self-conscious about how similar all my characters sounded.)

“Hostages” originally took a first-person present tense tone. It was quick and VERY minimalist, which was my whole jam for the longest time. I thought the original story was good but maybe lacking in certain areas. I’d originally intended for it to be a gothic tale, but to be truly goth, it really needed more words, more description of scenery and tension. It was perfect fodder for a rewrite.

Not to mention, a maximum of 5 people read the original on Patreon. For a story that I really loved writing the first time around, I felt that it deserved a revisit.

Revisiting Characters

Probably the most fun I was with rewriting “Hostages” was giving the characters some extra dimension. The original draft was about 4000 words, and I had room to expand it to 8000 words, which meant that I could describe things more vividly and create better tension between my characters.

I gave my protagonist, Erin, a bit more desire and need. I also changed my love interest’s name from Will to Edward, just for the sake of refreshing him a bit in my head, because he felt a bit hollow in the original draft. I faced a few hurdles with him, mainly because he has this dark side he’s trying to hide. (I guess not unlike Edward from the fucking Twilight series. In hindsight, I should have probably picked a different name for him because that name was haunting me with flat character hollowness the entire time I was writing.)

Rewriting my characters did give me a better sense of being reckless in a situation of hopelessness and depression, which I do hope translates to the reader. I had a lot of difficulties trying to cement their relationship, as again, I was rewriting during Christmas, which for me as a retail worker, is probably the most stressful time of the year.

Revisiting the Plot

Originally, “Hostages” was supposed to be about PTSD and how it affects people. Without spoiling too much, I tried to frame PTSD as a physical symptom, utilizing the cold environment of Whistler to convey how these symptoms isolate my characters from the rest of the people there.

In the rewrite, I did have to eroticize things a bit more. The symptoms still isolate my characters, but they also connect them to wanting to be together in a very self-destructive way. The new version focuses on the characters and the desire they have for each other because of their isolation. So yes, it leans more toward erotic horror, I suppose?

I’ve always wanted to write erotic horror but am never quite sure if I’m doing it right or not. Hopefully some of the feedback I get on this piece lead me in the right direction.

Some Problems with Changing Tenses and POVS

When rewriting, changing minor text things is always difficult. It seems easy, but you’re guaranteed to miss something, or rather, a lot of things. I had to change one character’s name. I had to change all the present tense to past tense. Lastly, I had to remove all those pesky “I’s”, which was honestly a relief.

Having written first person for nearly 10 years, not being paranoid about seeing a shit-ton of “I’s” on the page is a nice feeling. I’ve really enjoyed the freedom of writing in third-person. It allows me to embrace my own voice more, which I feel has benefited me greatly as a writer since I wrote “Woman of the White Cottage” in spring of 2021.

The Takeaways of Rewriting a Story

This whole endeavour proved a bit more difficult than I’d imagined it would be starting out. It was a story that I loved but one that I didn’t feel I told right the first time. One thing I will say about rewriting a piece is that it likely won’t change all the insecurities you have with it.

Maybe I didn’t try hard enough?

Maybe I was just too tired?

What I will say is that it proved a rather nice walk down “memory lane”. I threw on my old “Hostages” playlist and even added a song to the mix. It did change my relationship with the story, but when I got my editor’s comments on the draft I submitted, I was so full of insecurities over the typos and mistakes I’d left in there that maybe I was being too hard on myself.

I do think the story is better now.

Interested in Reading “Hostages”?

Eros & Thanatos, An Anthology of Death and Desire drops on February 11th from Quill & Crow Publishing House. Visit the book page for all your pre-order links, or you can do things the indie way and buy directly from the publisher store and get yourself some lovely Q&C merch as well.

Death my dear, is only the beginning…

Freud once theorized that human beings are subject to two drives: love (Eros) and death (Thanatos). While his psychoanalytic theory has long been expanded upon, no one can argue how fundamental love and death is to our existence. Within this collection are twelve stories that explore the fine line between these concepts. It also features a diverse group of authors whose often unheard voices tell stories of resilience, strength, and triumph through tragedy. Haunting as any Quill & Crow anthology, these stories seek to intrigue, inspire, and give a whole new meaning to “until death do us part.”

Buy Now

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MOODBOARD: “A Patient, A Guest”

I took a bit of a hiatus from writing stories for The Crow’s Quill so I could focus on my novel for a bit, but well, the novel hit a bit of a wall during the holidays. I did also find a bit of motivation to write a new piece of short fiction, and it proved to be the distraction I needed. Now, I apologize for posting this moodboard much later than I usually do, but I’ve been busy and exhausted and, much like the protagonist of this story, I need a dang mental health break.

“A Patient, A Guest” Premise

After the death of her troubled husband, an emotionally vulnerable Veronica decides to stay at the nearby asylum-turned-luxury-hotel. While there, she befriends another patron with a few demons of his own.

A Demon Story

So like, being a Christian, writing about demons is weird. Not that I have any real issue with demon stories. I’ve read plenty of hot ones in the past that I quite enjoyed. Originally, I started writing a story where the love interest ended up being a demon and messing with the protagonist. You know, your standard sexy demon story fodder.

My problem is that I get bored writing that kind of story. I like to break formulas a bit. I mean, a guess a part of me feels a bit guilty glorifying demons as sex objects but hey, I can write my way out of that. And so my “demon story” is more about personal demons than literal demons, which was a fun take on the theme in a deeper and more introspective way.

Another Urbex Video Inspires Me

This was a story that I actually tried to write twice already for The Crow’s Quill. Originally, I’d set it in the Banff Springs Hotel. I’ve always wanted to write a cool ghost story about the place, considering that the hotel is notoriously known for its many ghosts. Every time I tried, however, I just couldn’t wrap a story around the lore of the building.

Then I ended up watching another Proper People video, which (much like the video that inspired “Woman of the White Cottage”) entirely inspired a brand new short story. This video was of the Buffalo State Hospital in Buffalo, New York, which was converted into a luxury hotel in 2017.

Sadly, Covid took out the Hotel Henry become in 2020, but the Proper People video at least shows much of the hotel’s interior. I honestly love the idea of utilizing this old building in this manor, and from what I’ve read, the hotel was quite nice and well-reviewed.

I did also gain a bit of inspiration from this post I found on Reddit of a gym that was built in an old asylum in the UK.

Honouring the Past

In my research about Hotel Henry and the Buffalo State Hospital, which was previously called “Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane”, I did also stumble across this article, which addresses the idea of painting over the awful history of a building and turning into a place of luxury and lore. Upon my first reading of the article, I did roll my eyes a bit. It’s so rare for large old buildings to be refurbished and repurposed , and I was grateful to see a building preserved for once instead of simply destroyed to make way for cheap condos.

But, when I read the article a second time, I did appreciate the author’s consideration of the awful history of mental health care in former eras. We all love to glorify the horror of the events that unfolded in these places, and yet often fail to think of the actual people who lived their lives in these walls.

Restoration is one thing, but the erasure of an entire history of pain and dehumanizing treatment in the name of luxury and glamor is another. People are making fun and entertainment out of what was degradation and real pain and suffering for those who were committed at this institution up until the late 1970s. What if people were calling a former concentration camp “spooky” or “gorgeous,” with a tone that indicates titillation? What if they were holding their weddings there? Though of different origins and proportions, the use of asylums to silence and remove human beings from society is still a grave matter, and should be handled with the utmost sensitivity.

madintheattic.com – “Hotel Henry and the Line between Restoration and Trivialization“

It’s a really thoughtful article that considers our relationships with places. Some might not agree with the article, but it’s human nature to connect our presence within a space to those who existed there before, and that essentially is what “A Patient, A Guest” is about, is personal demons.

“A Patient, A Guest” Playlist

This was one of my favourite playlists to put together because it required the right balance of music that was both haunting and beautiful. I ended up listening to most of these songs during the holiday season, which was great because I very much dislike Christmas music. I’m quite alright with listening to depressing songs during the holidays, considering that I work retail.

I ended up putting two Exitmusic songs. They’re easily my favourite band to listen to and their music just fits so well with a lot of the themes I write about. Other faves include TR/ST’s “Darling” and Wild Beasts’ “New Life”, which just fit perfectly with the theme of “A Patient, A Guest.”

Read “A Patient, A Guest” in The Crow’s Quill

“A Patient, A Guest” appears in the Demons issue of The Crow’s Quill from Quill and Crow Publishing House, and it’s free to read! Head on over and let me know what you think.

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All the Books I Read in 2021

Well, it was another year full of chaos, which may or may not have stifled my reading from time to time. I actually started 2021 off with a bang, finishing a book every couple weeks or so. Thankfully, my corner of the world managed to get through the year without another lockdown, so things remained mostly normal for me. But again, I’m a mom with a kid in school and a really shitty routine that consists of very little time to myself.

My Complete 2021 Reading List

I did better than last year and read a total of 18 books, which still falls well short of my list from 2019. Here’s the full list of books completed in order:

Into the Darkness – V.C. AndrewsHausfrau – Jill Alexander EssbaumDivided Politics, Divided Nation – Darrell M. WestRuby – V.C. AndrewsBehind Her Eyes – Sarah PinboroughIf I Was Your Girl – Meredith RussoThe Knife – R.L. StineThe House of Fand – Anne MayburyLet Love Come Last – Taylor CaldwellMy Sweet Audrina – V.C. AndrewsThe Devil’s Mirror – Miriam LynchParty Summer – R.L. StineWhitefern – V.C. AndrewsThe Clock Winder – Anne TylerMy Heart is a Chainsaw – Stephen Graham JonesThe Claiming of Sleeping Beauty – Anne RiceCastle on the Loch – Caroline FarrAnomalies & Curiosities: An Anthology of Gothic Medical Horror – Various AuthorsMy Favourite 2021 Reads

Hausfrau – Jill Alexander Essbaum – I’d meant to read this one several years ago and never got around to it. But I found a copy at a thrift store and eagerly dove in at the beginning of the year. And my gosh, it was both sexy and so entirely sad. The prose, however, was just so absolutely up my alley. The book proved just a tad bit into the literary realm but this is honestly the kind of novel that I enjoy most of all. I mean, it’s depressing AF but the great sex scenes helped, so yeah. I highly recommend it.

Let Love Come Last – Taylor Caldwell – I mentioned this book in my moodboard for my short story “Little Black Death”. I found this book in early summer and devoured most of it during that horrendous heat dome that B.C. suffered through in the early days of July. And honestly, as horrible as that time was for me and my climate anxiety, this book cemented a few decent memories I have of the summer. Sitting outside in a paddling pool with the kids while sweating my ass off? Heck yes. This book isn’t my normal fare but I DEVOURED the total non-romance of the couple centred in the book. It was so real and so complex and so utterly gripping. It motivated my gothic heart to write more, and really proved a pivotal read for me this year.

The Clock Winder – Anne Tyler – This was yet another random find, which kind of goes to show that I should just trust my got instant when picking out books. I plot of this one wasn’t without a few flaws, but I really enjoyed the hell out of Anne Tyler’s writing style and it really inspired me to branch away from some of my own writing crutches. This book is essentially a family drama, but focuses on a girl who ends up becoming the repairman and finds herself tangled inside of all the dramzzzzzz. It was so odd but gripping and proved a very quick read for me. I’ll definitely be picking up more Anne Tyler books in the future.

2021 Goals Achieved?

My favourite part of these posts is seeing whether or not I achieved all my reading goals, so here’s what I planned on doing.

Read more small press / friends’ books! – I did read Anomalies & Curiosites from Quill & Crow Publishing House and I’ve befriended all the authors within the pages, but like, that was my only small press book and I WAS IN IT, so I refuse to accept this single read as acceptable. I know I need to do better. My main issue is that I didn’t wanna pay for American shipping and I ended up at too many local used bookstores, so I read locally, which isn’t essentially a problem. But small presses ain’t gonna get no love if I don’t play a few mail workers to ship the dang books to me, so imma gonna go better next year, I swear.Read at least TWO non-fiction books. – Kinda accepted that podcasts are more my way of getting enlightened about how shitty the world is. Read more diverse voices. I read If I Was Your Girl by Meredith Russo, a trans author, as well as My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones, who is native. I feel a bit guilty using two books to cross this off, because I could always be seeking out more, Reread a book! Any book! I reread Ruby and My Sweet Audrina from my teenage days and it was wonderful to reflect back on how adult me resonated with those books. I know I still have to do my Ruby review but the Lifetime movies of the Landry series really burnt me out from that saga.2021 Reading Takeaways

I started off with a lot of hope, honestly, but reading is all about enjoyment, and here are some of the lessons that I’ll take into 2022.

I don’t have time for non-fiction.

I realized that I could read a couple books at a time, usually reading one at night as I usually do, and reading a non-fiction book like Darrell West’s Divided Politics, Divided Nation at work and while cooking during the day. I enjoyed the break between fiction and non-fiction, but then when those chaotic school days started to drain me, I was unable to keep up the non-fiction daytime reading, and I sadly only read one non-fiction book this year. *sigh* I mean, part of my problem was trading the reading to just keep up on current events via Kyle Kulinski, who I maybe might have this weird nerdy crush on, but I’m a horny housewife now and I’ve accepted this reality for myself.

I’ll never finish my TBR pile, but I am honoring it in other ways.

On the other hand, I DID find a new joy in genre horror, particularly gothic horror. While I did originally start buying the shit out of gothic paperbacks just for the covers, I did enjoy the small thrills in Anne Maybury’s The House of Fand. However, what really got me was some of the more “literary” books kind of rebranded as gothic horrors like Let Love Come Last by Taylor Caldwell and The Clock Winder by Anne Tyler. I quite enjoyed both these books and was really happy to find new writers whose works I can devour.

Another genre I collected was 90s pre-teen horror:

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The Netflix Fear Street movies got me into reading a couple of R.L. Stine’s classics. Didn’t end up finding the desire to dive into the Christopher Pike books, as my literary tastes went everywhere this year, but I’ve got quite the TBR pile now taking space on literal walls of my house now. Most of these books will just be wall art, but I like the idea of featuring books around the house this way and I do plan on doing the same little showcase for my gothic paperbacks.

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I need to read *smarter* because I’m a mom.

This year my biggest realization was that I’ve definitely hit that exhausted mom stage of life. Some books just proved a slog to read, quite honestly. I really, really hoped to enjoy My Heart is a Chainsaw but I could barely read two pages before nodding off each night, and the prose style was IMPOSSIBLE for my depleted-ass mom brain to process. I actually had to stop reading it in the fall just because I couldn’t remember what I’d read the night before, and so I went back to reading Castle on the Loch, which was a pretty bad mainstream gothic tale that I’m sure moms in the 70s likely devoured. Its story wasn’t great, but the simple prose made for an easy read in my sleep-deprived state.

I also read Anne Rice’s The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty (which was a reread from my high school days!) and I finally realized exactly why so many middle-aged women enjoy reading really shitty erotica, is because it provides escapist reading in consumable doses. I can feel like I’ve “lived a life” and also “read a book” at the same damn time?! I get it now! I get it, horny moms! Like, I ain’t gonna start picking up any Sylvia Day books (because billionaires aren’t fucking sexy), but I plan on selectively filling next year’s TBR pile with some good gothic romance tales.

I STILL didn’t read enough V.C. Andrews.

Once again, beloved readers of the Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Reviews, I did let you down. Next year I hope to read more of the Neiderman-penned books, as they’re much easier to scathingly review. I know that you all want me to get into the Dollanganger series but the books penned by Andrews herself are SO MUCH HARDER to critique because they’re much more complex and I really just enjoy hating on Neiderman.

Goals for 2022

Learning all that I did last year, I’m going to be even more realistic.

Read 15 books.Read EVEN MORE small press and friends.Read EVEN MORE diverse voices.Read an entire V.C. Andrews series.How much did you read in 2021?

Let me know in the comments. I’m glad I didn’t completely bail on this year. There were patches where I had no desire to read at all but I plugged away at my books and picked what made me happy.

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I Don’t Have Time for Anything, Except Maybe Writing

I realize that my blogging frequency has gone a bit stale. Free time has been in short supply and when it is, I’d rather spend what little writing time I have writing fiction that few people read but I make a bit of money on, than on blog posts that few people read and I get no money on. “MONETIZE YOUR BLOG, REBECCA!”, you might be screaming. To that, I say, “Nobody comes here regularly but to read my Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Reviews that I never have the time to write anymore, and I doubt any of my handful of devoted V.C. Andrews fans would stick around to read them if they were choked to death with Adsense ads.

Anyway, here I am today to tell you all about how hard part-time working mom life is, even though I’m actually riding a pretty good emotional high at the moment, it might just be the tail end of it before the true Christmas dread finally settles in.

Happy 16th Retail Christmas Season to Me

I actually went into this “holiday season” kinda upbeat because I planned on dressing all holiday goth and things were going well, even when the Christmas music started playing the moment after the “Moment of Silence” was over on Remembrance Day. I kid, of course. Mariah Carey doesn’t truly start belting it until November 12th, but I digress. Once again, the holiday soundtrack at work ended up being the exact same holiday soundtrack as last year at work and after 15 years of retail I’m virtually numb to all but WHAM’S “Last Christmas”, because it’s truly the only Christmas song that actually gives me any joy these days.

Things were going okay until what they call an “atmospheric river” moved over British Columbia and literally took out every highway leading out of Vancouver. That took me out for a couple of nights because I obviously had to doomscroll my way back into a sense of anxiety on Twitter. It went well, you know. Instead of getting too doomer about it, I did write a romantic gothic poem about dying in a flash flood:

The rain pelted the cabin.
The ground grew muddy,
turned soggy.
The river roared.
Its waters swelled.
Come nightfall,
a candle shed light
on your puckish smile.
"Isn't this nice?" you said,
opening a can of offal.
"I get to share my last meal
with you."#crowcalls @QuillandCrow

— Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rjoneshowe) November 16, 2021

#Momlife is Worse Now

I’m fortunate enough to have parents who look after my son so I can work for 5 hours a day and then they pick up my daughter and I spend the late afternoon with my kids while I sometimes try to make dinner? My kids literally only eat chicken fingers these days so I throw a bunch of those in the air fryer and was doing pretty good at cooking keto dinners until the aforementioned closed highways made everyone panic buy all the fucking produce and I ran out of cauliflower to replace all my rice and pasta with.

As a result, my diabetes is under worse control.

Not to mention that my daughter is 6 and likes to do stuff like Perler Beads and friendship bracelets and paper dolls and my son is 2 and likes to destroy all the things she likes to make. I hate it. I hate the screaming. It’s cute when they play nice but they only do that for like 5-minute allotments and my patience when my blood sugar is fucked is only SO HIGH.

And I get it. I know that I’ll miss these times when they’re older. I try to savour what I can, which is why I’m rarely blogging here, is because I’ve learned that trying to do literally anything on the computer when the kids are at home (like right now), makes my heart race and my anxiety build and my blood pressure probably skyrocket and I really just fucking wish I was back on keto because it really fixed all those things before ALL THE FUCKING PANIC BUYERS CLEANED OUT THE DAMN PRODUCE DEPARTMENT.

*deep breath*

Some days I fare pretty well. Other days, I might have a small breakdown that my husband has to pull me out of but that’s just real shit, honestly. Young children are hard and frustrating and sometimes I wish I could get a break but that won’t happen until they’re teenagers and they hate me. I literally cannot wait for that day, because right now I’m at the “school forgets to let you know that “Superhero Day” is coming and your kid tells you that it’s “Superhero Day” the literal day before “Superhero Day” and I have to spend my glorious night of watching the Olympic Curling Trials making a very last minute Cardcaptor Sakura costume” stage.

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It’s Okay, There’s Writing to be Done

After I put the kids to bed, I usually get just one sole hour to writing time. If I have a day off the next day, then I get two hours, and honestly, most nights it feels like I get nothing done. That being said, I’m shocked at what I’ve achieved to write this year with this whole routine.

I’ve written several short stories this year and managed to juggle them with nearly 2/3rds of my edit of The View From the Basment. I’ve also come to the realization that drinking never helps me write, so I never drink on weekdays anymore. Just non-caffienated tea. Or, while I was sick last week, this strangely delicious hot ginger ale beverage.

It’s Also Okay, There’s EVEN MORE Writing to Do

I realized this year that I also have enough fiction to publish not one, but TWO new short story collections. IN all the hubbub of the novel, I really lost sight of my short fiction. I missed writing it. I enjoyed writing my old Patreon stories in 2020, but this year, it was the whole process of writing “Woman of the White Cottage” for Quill and Crow Publishing House this year that awoke something primal in me. Cassandra kept asking me for moreand more work and I just couldn’t stop.

It’s funny, because I never really thought of my work as any real genre until I started writing for them. Gothic just suits so much of what I write, and it has really helped me embrace the genre not just with my writing, but also with my reading. I’ve amassed QUITE the collection of absolutely trashy gothic paperbacks from the 60s-80s and it’s become this new part of my life that I never really thought I would allow myself to embrace before. I mean, I was already reading V.C. Andrews, but this new gothic trash is just the icing on that cake.

I’m upset that I couldn’t write something for Q&C’s most recent anthology, and I haven’t appeared in the last two issues of The Crow’s Quill because I had to prioritize my novel, but I’ll be back in January with some new work. In 2022, I also plan on putting together a short story collection of gothic short fiction.

I also have almost enough fiction to put together another collection of transgressive neo/noir stories centered around men’s issues that’ I’m hoping to find a publishing for next year, so I’m actually looking quite new to having some new fiction in the world soon.

At Last, New Fiction!

Speaking of Patreon stories, I did also find a home for the best story of the bunch, “Modern Ruins”. It appeared in the new anthology, LOST CONTACT, from Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing. And the book came out today, so please please please go and buy yourself a copy.

“Modern Ruins” is my dead mall story, inspired greatly by Dan Bell’s “Dead Mall Series”. You can obviously check out the moodboard for more details on the story, but it was inspired a lot by my daily family life experiences, some of which I mentioned in this blog. It was also inspired by the early days of college when I met my husband. I even reference an album from this nostaglic post in there. Life is a real grind sometimes and I appreciate that I can be a writer and put so much of my angst on a page to live instead of in my head. The greatest joy is also being able to publish that angst and get paid for my angst and have people read and understand it and maybe also find comfort from it too.

Anway, please go buy the anthology. Read my story. Support my work. And best of all, support a small press this holiday season, because without their support, I wouldn’t have this kind of space to express myself:

Perpetual Motion Machine PublishingQuill & Crow Publishing House

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I Dressed in SQUID GAME-Inspired Outfits for An Entire Week

Like everyone else with a Netflix subscription, I recently got waaaaay into Squid Game, so much so that I considered ordering myself a tracksuit so I could be a Squid Game player for Halloween. But, because I boycott Amazon and couldn’t find a tracksuit from a non-sketchy online retailer, I decided against engaging in capitalism in order to revel in my fandom of the show. I did a week-long “outfit challenge”. In this challenge, each day I’d have to put together an outfit inspired by the show.

Squid Game, But Make It Fashion

One of the absolute greatest things about Squid Game is its high aesthetic value. Pastels. Neons. Primary colours. Shapes. Athleticwear. Retro 80s vibes. It’s a truly gorgeous show with some very unsettling sets and vivid imagery. Its soundtrack is also beautiful and haunting. There’s just so much to appreciate in this show, and I really wanted to just dive deep in all of these aesthetics by, in true RJH fashion, to make it fashion.

I really wanted to adopt the aesthetics of the show with my own personal style, so while nobody in the show actually wears a skirt, I definitely wear a lot of dresses and skirts. I also don’t really ever wear sweatpants in public (though I love the hell out of them at home), so none of my Squid Game outfits are going to be “true” to the show. Just inspired.

So without further ado, let the outfits begin!

MONDAY: The Player Outfit

My first mission was to dig out what items in my wardrobe had that signature green shade of the player tracksuits. I had some items that were close but not that perfect blend of green and teal. I did, however, have a pair of tights from my “early fashion days” that I don’t really wear so much anymore. Nevertheless, I dug them out and made a half-decent nod to both the player outfits AND the black and white tones of the player room.

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I don’t have Vans but I have white Keds I never wear. The glasses have stars, which was a shape featured in the Dalgona challenge. The lock necklace symbolizes the prison scenario the players live in during the course of the game.

@rebeccajoneshowe SQUID GAME outfit challenge this week. Here's my first outfit inspired by the tracksuits. #squidgame #ootdfashion #tiktokfashion ♬ Trumpet Concerto – The Band of Her Majesty’s Royal Marines Commander-in-Chief Fleet

TUESDAY: The Guard Outfit

Unlike with the players, I surprisingly have enough magenta clothes to pick through for my rendition of the guard’s uniform, but there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to pick this thrifted magenta dress.

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I worked on this particular day and actually started getting tired of receiving compliments on the dress. Like the colour is a LOT, folks. There’s a reason why picked it as the uniform colour for the show.

@rebeccajoneshowe My rendition of the guard outfit. #tiktokfashion #ootdfashion #squidgameoutifit ♬ Pink Soldiers – 23

WEDNESDAY: The Dalgona Challenge

This one proved a bit difficult because I had a root canal scheduled that day so I knew I’d have to dress down a bit. However, I really enjoyed the creepy factor of the Dalgona Challenge room. Those giant playground structures? The primary colours? Everything about that set was so absolutely unsettling that I knew I wanted to create a very schoolyard sort of outfit to go with it.

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I ended up settling on this tencel pinafore dress, and paired it with a HBC Stripes cardigan that also had all the colours of the different shapes one could cut from the dalgona. It also conveniently rained that day, so I got to bring an umbrella to the dentist.

@rebeccajoneshowe Today's SQUID GAME outfit is inspired by the Dalgona game in Ep.3. It also rained so here's my umbrella. #squidgameoutifit #tiktokfashionstyle ♬ original sound – 온오빠 On Oppa

THURSDAY: The Staircase

This once proved tough, because while I really wanted to do a staircase-inspired outfit, I don’t actually have a lot of pastels in my wardrobe. What I ended up with was this outfit, which is probably the ensemble that is least like my normal style.

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It was my day off this day, so the overalls worked, despite not being quite the teal shade featured on the staircase. As for the pinks and yellows, though? This sweater just worked. I did end up making a grocery story trip wearing this and felt ridiculous AF. But I had to, you know? For the challenge that nobody around me was aware of at all. It did, however, feel kind of nice to wear something different than my normal affair. I hate my short legs and I sometimes feel like these overalls really convey just how short they actually are, but they’re also cute, so they make me feel okay about my short legs?

The point I’m trying to make is that it’s sometimes invigorating to dress out of your comfort zone.

@rebeccajoneshowe Today's SQUID GAME Fashion Challenge outfit is inspired by the pastel staircase set. #squidgameoutifit #squidgame #ootdfashion #tiktokfashion ♬ Blue Danube Waltz – Great Waltz Orchestra

FRIDAY: The VIP Room

I had so many pieces in my wardrobe that featured the botanicals, the animal print, the deep shades of green from the VIP room featured in episode 7. It was really hard to settle on what pieces to use, but I HAD to use this leather skirt. Ended up pairing it with an Anthologogie dress that I recently thrifted, plus a shit-ton of ridiculous over-the-top gold jewellery. PLUS this vintage belt that I hoped would mirror the masks that the asshole rich guys wear at the game.

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While I’d say that this outfit doesn’t quite look “Squid Game” entirely, I do feel that it’s got that 80s influence that the show does carry.

@rebeccajoneshowe Today's SQUID GAME outfit was inspired by the lush VIP room in episode 7. Gold, botanicals, 212 hair. #tiktokfashion #ootdfashion #squidgameoutifit ♬ An der schönen blauen Donau op.314 (waltz) – Johann Strauss Ensemble

SATURDAY: The “Red Light, Green Light” Doll

Of course, I had to do an outfit inspired by the doll from the first episode. Again, I don’t have a lot for pastels in my wardrobe, but what I did come up with was this orange/yellow ensemble that pulls from the colours from the doll’s pinafore dress and shirt combo.

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This was admittedly my least-favourite outfit of the week, mainly because it feels so simple and it was also fall and this is quite clearly a summer ensemble. It was also a Saturday and the family had to make an impromptu trip to my husband’s hometown so we could assist in cleaning up my late father-in-law’s home, as he recently passed. Planning a better outfit was kind of low on the priority list, but this one at least proved comfortable for the drive and the day and everything.

@rebeccajoneshowe Of course I was gonna do an outfit inspired by the Red Light, Green Light doll. #squidgame #tiktokfashion ♬ original sound – Rich Girlish

SUNDAY: The Finalist Dinner

Does this one look too Gossip Girl? The headband was actually a Gossip Girl-inspired piece I bought from Etsy YEARS ago, but I put this outfit together to resemble the suits worn at the finalist dinner. I couldn’t NOT have a red bow to make a nod to the coffins featured in the game, so I wore it. The outfit felt wrong without it, but maybe might have ruined it all the same? I dunno.

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If I’ve learned anything from this outfit, it’s that I need a good solid pair of black trousers in my wardrobe. It’s one of those things I decided I didn’t need back when I swore skirts were superior. I’m now on the lookout for a good pair of black trousers to invest in, and it’ll likely be these, but who knows?

@rebeccajoneshowe My final SQUID GAME outfit is from the finalist dinner. #tiktokfashion #squidgame ♬ An Der Schönen Blauen Donau Op. 134 – Battle Royale

One Week of SQUID GAME Outfits

Well, that’s my week of Squid Game-inspired outfits. How do you think I did? Which one is your favourite? This October proved to be a very frustrating and difficult month for me, pretty much in every retrospect in work, parenting, and with the death in the family. Not to mention Halloween, which I always spend so much of the year anticipating. I didn’t get to decorate quite the way I wanted to because of all the extra stuff. Then Squid Game came along, and while the show definitely is a heavy and difficult watch, it was also a great distraction for the emotions I was dealing with.

So yeah. This was fun, and I’ll probably do it again if I end up falling in love with another show with high aesthetic value. It helped me appreciate more of the pieces in my wardrobe, and I also had fun dissecting the show while putting my Tik Tok videos together, finding the music to score them, etc. It just went to prove that even in the most stressful of times that I could still somehow be creative and work my way through things.

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MY SWEET AUDRINA – A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review

It’s been a while since my last Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review. My intention was to read the entire Landry series before the Lifetime movies came out but my ability to read has been rather hit and miss this year. (I did read Ruby but watching the movies in that short burst was too much Landry for me to handle, so I will get back to the books eventually.) Nevertheless, after my recent horrendous novel rejection, I figured it was time for something nostalgic, and so I chose to read My Sweet Audrina:

V.C. Andrews, author of the phenomenally successful Dollanganger series, has created a fascinating new cast of characters in this haunting story of love and deceit, innocence and betrayal, and the suffocating power of parental love.

Audrina Adare wanted so to be as good as her sister. She knew her father could not love her as he loved her sister. Her sister was so special, so perfect — and dead.
Now she will come face to face with the dangerous, terrifying secret that everyone knows. Everyone except…

My Sweet Audrina

Note: This summary is from the paperback copy of the book.

About My Sweet Audrina

Penned by V.C. Andrews herself, My Sweet Audrina was first published in 1982 and served for the longest time as Andrews’ sole standalone book. (In 2016, Neiderman wrote and published the sequel Whitefern, which I haven’t heard any good things about. The negative reviews make me quite excited, however, as I find the Neiderman books a lot more fun to review.)

My Sweet Audrina seems very heavily inspired by elements of Andrews’ life. Audrina’s isolation (as well as Billie’s) mirrors some of Virginia’s own isolation from being confined to a wheelchair. According to Wikipedia, Vera’s frequent falls down the stairs were also inspired by Virgina’s own fall down a school staircase.

On a personal note, My Sweet Audrina TERRIFIED my 14-year-old diabetic ass for years that a minor cut would cause my legs to get infected and they’d need to get cut off.

My Copy of My Sweet Audrina

I purchased a hardcover of My Sweet Audrina a few years back, which was the one I read for this review. When a good-condition stepback cover revealed itself to me on ebay, however, I found myself unable to resist the temptation, and so I bought it simply for the sake of having a classic stepback for this review’s header photo.

When I think of my favourite stepback cover designs, for some reason I never thought much about My Sweet Audrina. The earlier covers are much more minimalistic, but when you take the time to look into the details there is just so much that the artist got right. The cupola? the red tin roof? The spiderwebs in the windows? It all works so well at luring you in and there’s so much to appreciate in a cover that borrows from actual aspects of the book, as opposed to today’s cheap stock photo renderings.

Behind the cover, a young Audrina sits in her rocking chair among her toys. Her father, Damian, stands behind in the shadows. It’s cheesy but the subtle reference of the spider webs

Of note is also the hardcover design, which features Audrina’s colour-changing hair tangled into a spiderweb. It’s a gorgeous illustration that ties well with Andrews’ prose.

My Sweet Audrina: The Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review

As I mentioned, I first read My Sweet Audrina when I was 14-15. I only managed to read a handful of V.C. Andrews books in my teens before they started to bore me, but My Sweet Audrina was my absolute favourite. It sucked me right in. But that was naive Rebecca. Virgin Rebecca. Judging-all-her-friends-for having-sex Rebecca. That particular Rebecca found herself fully encompassed into Audrina’s psyche and I pretty much felt everything that Audrina felt, except maybe her complete inability to see the utter creepiness of her dad, but we’ll get to that.

An Innocent & Pretty, Yet Completely Naive Female Protagonist

Okay, so I know that Cathy Dollenganger was V.C. Andrews’ first naive protagonist but I feel like Audrina fits the stereotype better. She starts off the story younger, dumber. She lives in a run-down house, Whitefern, with her parents, Damien and Lucietta (Lucky) Adare, her aunt Ellsbeth, and her cousin Vera. Her parents named Audrina after her older sister, who died when a bunch of boys raped her beneath a tree in the woods a few years back.

For some reason, Audrina can never remember much of anything, but her father forces her to sit in the “First Audrina’s” rocking chair in order to, like, absorb her memories and powers and shit? Her swiss-cheese memory sucks up everything she once attained, which again, just works in a V.C. Andrews book. The longer a protagonist remains naive, the better she fits, and Audrina just REFUSES to ever learn anything throughout the book’s length.

This is foreshadowing:

I often went to bed feeling unhappy about my life, feeling an undercurrent that was pulling my feet from under me, and I was floundering, floundering, bound to sink and drown. It seemed I heard a voice whispering, telling me there were rivers to cross and places to go, but I’d never go anywhere. There were people to know and fun to have, but I wouldn’t experience any of that. I woke up and heard the tinkle of the whispering wind chimes telling me over and over that I belonged where I was, and here I would stay, forevermore, and nothing I did would matter in the long rung. Shivering, I hugged my arms over my thin chest. In my ears I heard Papa’s voice, saying over and over again, “This is where you belong, safe with Papa, safe in your home.”

page 22

A Beloved Doting Paternal Figure

As the only man, Damian Adare plays a brooding and dominant role in the Whitefern household.

My papa, six-foot five and weighing well over two hundred pounds, was the tallest man I had ever seen, though Vera was always telling me there were many men who were taller, especially basketball players. Papa’s hair was the darkest black, looking blue sometimes in the sunlight. He had beautiful almond-shaped eyes, so brown they appeared black, and his lashes were so long and thick they appeared false, even though they weren’t.

page 20

Later in the passage, she refers to his smooth, soft skin and his slick as oil eyes. He fears growing old and often checks his hairbrush for signs of greys. So you know, he fills in the vain mother role that Lucky doesn’t. This vanity, however, works for his character, as Damien spends most of his time trading stocks, at least that is, when he’s not forcing Audrina to do his dumb rocking chair ritual or LITERALLY BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF VERA, but we’ll get to that as well.

A Hostile Maternal Figure (+ Bonus Mean Girl!)

Audrina’s mother, Lucietta (Lucky) and her Aunt Ellsbeth (Ellie) play the two matrons of the Whitefern household. Lucky is the pretty & perfect mom and Ellie is the dowdy skinny shapeless bitchy one who can’t cook for shit and spends all her time watching soap operas. Which is… just great? By 80s standards?

Also lurking in the house is Aunt Ellsbeth’s bastard daughter, Vera, who serves as the default model for every single Bonus Mean Girl character that appears in every single V.C. Andrews book from then on. Damien treats Vera like shit, sometimes because she is a little shit, and sometimes because’s she’s just clearly the whipping child of the family. Vera’s single weakness, however, is her frail-ass bones, which affect her throughout the entire novel.

In her first scene, when she and Audrina fight over some dolls, Vera takes a tumble down the narrow stairs leading down from the attic:

I ran to where she lay in a crumpled heap. Her left leg was buckled under her in a grotesque way. It was the leg she’d broken twice before. I cringed to see a bit of jagged bone protruding through her torn flesh, which was gushing blood.

“It’s your fault,” she moaned, in so much agony her pretty face was twisted and ugly. “It’s your fault for not giving me what I wanted. Always your fault, everything bad that happens to me, your fault. Somebody should give me what I want sometime.”

page 30

Later, after Damien’s medical insurance takes another plunge, a leg-casted Vera enters Audrina’s room with intentions to “educate” Audrina because neither Lucky nor Ellie will. (Audrina also doesn’t go to school for “protection” reasons, or is even allowed the leave the house, really.) Vera tosses a bag full of pictures onto the bed, which Audrina picks up, only to realize that the images are all cut-outs from porn magazines. Then Damien climbs up the stairs, but Audrina can’t hide the pictures because Vera’s covered them in glue and the pictures stick to her hands.

Which is… really fucked. Like primo adolescent horror, as well as some foreshadowing for what’s to come.

Then Damien enters and goes straight for Vera, demanding that she eat the fucking glue-covered cutouts. Vera refuses, so Damien then takes her to her room and takes the belt to her. Later, when Vera’s screams subside, Damien returns to take Audrina for a session in the rocking chair. He explains that Audrina having seen the photos is shameful. Then Audrina asks why “boys are dangerous for me and not for Vera”.

“Some girls are born to be what Vera is. Boys can sniff them out from miles away. That’s why I don’t bother about her. It wouldn’t do any good. It’s you I care about because it’s you I love. I used to be a boy, and I know how boys think. I’m sorry to say most boys cannot be trusted. That’s why you have to stay out of the woods, and close to home, and out of school, too. It’s dangerous for a beautiful, sensitive girl like you. It’s the kind fo woman you’ll grow up to be that will be the salvation of mankind. That’s why I struggle to save you and protect you from contamination.”

page 43

This is how I picture Damien’s struggle:

Okay, so I understand that this is a whole lotta old-timey patriarchal mindset going on. Women were finally making some strides at the time this book was written. They could have credit cards and shit, but it’s pretty fucked that this whole “virgin”/”whore” concept still had such a stronghold, at least, in V.C. Andrews’ mind.

It’s impossible not to read her work and not feel lost in her psyche. For me, having grown up in a relatively conservative Christian mindset, having been indoctrinated in the idea of “saving oneself for marriage”, and having two of Joshua Harris’ books given to me in high school, I understand where she’s coming from. But now I’m a grown-ass woman and this shit is just so gross to me.

I mean, it makes Damien an interesting character in that he knows he’s awful and is pretty much utilizing the only good aspects of his character to keep his daughter safe, but then all this toxic masculinity makes him the creepiest dad ever.

A Tragic Death

Lucky announces to the family that she’s expecting a baby. She promised Audrina that the baby will become a friend to Audrina and that once the baby is born that Audrina won’t be lonely anymore. But as the months pass, the pregnancy takes it toll on Lucky. Later, when Lucky hires an old woman to perform the “ring gender test” to find out the baby’s sex. It takes forever, but the woman announces that the baby isn’t male or female. Damien pretty much beats the old woman and sends her out of the house.

This mystery baby thing is another V.C. Andrews trope. In Heaven, Sarah’s baby was born without genitals, which leaves me with more questions than answers about the V.C. Anchews psyche.

Anyway, after Lucky throws a big party in the house and Audrina finds herself admiring her perfect mom playing the piano for the guests. Audrina and Vera later stumble upon Damien beating the shit out of Lucky for being too much of an attention-whore. Damien discovers them watching, and then spanks Vera and apologizes to Audrina, saying that when he drinks too much he finds himself full of so much scorn that he feels like he needs to punish someone for it.

Which uh, is kind of legit in terms of abusive male behaviour, right? Anyway, Damien sends Audrina to bed with the promise that they will have no more parties.

I lay on my bed torn with doubts bout men, about marriage. I decided that night I’d never marry, not in one million years, not when all men coule be like Papa, wonderful and terrible. Deceitful and lovable and cruel even when he loved, wielding the belt in private, screaming abuse, criticizing, stealing self-confidence and instilling self-loathing and a deep sense of shame just for being female.

Perhaps Aunt Ellsbeth was right. Men were king of the mountains, king of the woods, king of the homea and office and everywhere — just before they were male.

page 118

This is Audrina’s smartest point in the book, and we’re only a quarter of the way in, friends! There’s a baby coming and when Audrina wakes up the morning after the party, it’s her 9th’s birthday. It’s a rainy September morning, which only means one thing…

Aunt Ellsbeth burns some bacon and announces that Lucky broke out into contractions and Damien took her to the hospital. She was only in the 7th month of pregnancy, so Audrina worried about the baby surviving. Both Ellsbeth and Vera hardly give much of a shit.

Days later, Damien FINALLY comes home without Lucky or a baby. He begrudgingly tells Audrina that her mother died while in labour. But what of the baby, you ask? Well, her name is Sylvia and she’s a preemie who spends the first two years of her life in a hospital incubator before Damien finally brings her home.

Incest!

My Sweet Audrina contains no incest, so I’m just gonna use this section to discuss Arden, the neighbour boy who lives in the cottage across the woods with his mother, Billie. By this point, Arden and Audrina have established a good friendship. He buys her birthday presents and claims to love her. However, Damien frequently dismisses thier relatinoship and tries to forbid Audrina from spending time with him.

I remember loving Arden when I read this book as a kid. He proved himself kind and sweet and one of the only lights in Audrina’s life. I felt every betrayl that he laid upon her, but now, as an adult, I think he’s a weaksauce beta piece of shit, especially when he claims to “love” Audrina and then can’t help his “boys will be boys” ways when Vera starts flirting it up with him.

Here’s a scene that takes place after Vera “forces” Arden to teach her how to drive his old car. Then they head down to the river for a swim. This is but one example of a scene that ruined me with rage in my teenage years:

I turned to see Arden staring at Vera in her skimpy bikini. The tree little triancles were bright green and very flattering to her hair color. Her pale skin had tanned to a light copper shade, and even I had to admit she looked extremely pretty. Already she’d developed a woman’s figure, with high, full breats that jutted out that little-nothing green bra. My chest was still flat as a pan bottom.

Vera strolled closer to Arden with a lighter green towel thrown casually over her shoulder. Her hips undulated. Apparently the fascination of watching them move like that made Arden forget all about me. “I’m terribly tired after all that driving, and the long hike here. Arden, would you mind helping me down the incline?”

He hurried to assist her down the gentle slope, which I knew she could manage perfectly well. For some reason he couldn’t seem to let go of her waist or arm. His fingers on her upper arm just brushed thw swelling contours of her new bosom. I flushed with anger when she smiled up into his eyes.

page 172

Grown-ass woman Rebecca realizes that Vera’s obviously just manipulating a clueless Arden. This becomes even more obvious when Vera unties her bikini top, lays down and asks Arden to put suntan lotion on her back.

“Stop glaring at me, “Audrina. I won’t show anything if I don’t move too quickly Not that Arden hasn’t seen naked boobs before.” She grinned when he jerked away and looked surprised—and guilty. Still he knelt down to untie her bra, and even if he looked embarrassed and awkward, he managed to smear some of that oil on her back—and a darn long time it took him to do it, too.

It was taking too long. I thought his hands lingered unnecessarily long in certain places. He appeared so excited his hands trembled. Furious with him, with Vera, I jumped up and ran all the way home, hating them both.

page 173

Throughout the entire book, Vera pulls these stunts to prove just how naive Audrina is, which a part of me kind of understands now? Like, obviously Vera is awful but she’s also an abused little girl who sees no other value to herself but her sexuality, and so of course she’s gonna use said sexuality to berate her competition.

A Vera Tangeant!

The scariest part with Vera is when she starts flirting with Audrina’s perv-ass piano teacher, Lamar Rensdale. Audrina learns a lot from him and Lamar comes off to the reader as a decent dude. But Vera claims he’s fucked every chick within twenty miles, and later, she shows the evidence:

Vera came bounding through my bedroom door, the cold air clinging to her heavy coat as she threw it down and stained yet another delicate chair. “Guess what I’ve been doing!” she exploded, hardly able to contain herself. Her eyes were lit up like black coals. The cold had made her cheeks red as apples. There were red marks on her neck. Marks she pointed out to me. “Kisses made those,” she said with a smirk. “I’ve got those marks all over me. I am no longer a virgin, little sister.”

page 176

Then, we get this glorious passage that horrified teenage me:

“I have seen a naked man, Audrina, a real one, not just a picture or illustration. He is so hairy. You’d never suspect just how hairy by looking at him fully clothed. His hair travels from his chest down past his naval and runs into a point and keeps on going and getting hairier until—”

“Stop! I don’t want to hear more.”

“But I want you to hear more. I want you to know what you’re missing. It’s wonderful to have all those nine inches stabbing into me. Did you hear me, Audrina? I measured it… almost nine inches, and it’s all swollen and hard.”

page 176

Audrina reminds Vera that she’s only 14. I’d put a vomit gif here but there are only so many. Then Vera later announces that she’s pregnant, which I’d also post a gif in response over, but uh…we don’t actually know if she’s telling the truth or not?

Like, she’s a minor so I wanna take this seriously, but she’s also just a horrible fictional character whose sole purpose is to be horrible, I just… I hate to admit it but simply because of her complexity, it shames me to admit that Vera is becoming my favorite character.

Womanly Knowledge

So yeah, some time passes without Vera that’s rather nice and pleasant and Audrina actually starts to befriend Aunt Ellsbeth. But then Ellsbeth starts boning Damian, eventually admitting that she was once in love with Damian before he turned his eyes to the prettier and therefore always better, Lucietta. It’s not long before Audrina realizes that Vera IS, in fact, Damien’s daughter and that she and Vera are half-sister cousins.

Ellsbeth does manage to pass on this badass knowledge to Audrina, however, in one of my very favourite scenes of the book:

“Aunt Ellie, do you love him even when you know he cheats and deceives and has no honor and no integrity?”

Alarmed, her eyes fled from mine. “I’ve talked enough for one day,” she answered shortly, stalking into the dining room with a fresh tablecloth. “But take heed of what I said, and be aware the athings are not always as they seem to be. Put your trust in now man, and most especially, discard any dreams that disturb you.”

page 180

And sure, Ellsbeth continues in her sad nightly boning sessions with Damian, but this is some primetime truth and with it, Ellsbeth goes down right next to Fanny into my “ACTUALLY SMART V.C. ANDREWS CHARACTERS HALL OF FAME”.

Sylvia Comes Home

Time passes and Damian FINALLY brings Audrina’s younger sister, Sylvia home. Now over two years old, Syliva can walk but not much else. Although V.C. Andrews never explicitly says it in her writing, it’s clear that Sylvia has some intellectual disabilities. It’s a rather gutting scene when Damien introduces Audrina to her little sister. Andrews’ writing holds no punches but she does use some, uh, let’s call them “old-timey terms” to describe Sylvia’s condition, so it proved a difficult read for me in that I brought up a lot of old memories of when some of the kids with disabilities used to scare me when I was in elementary school.

Nevertheless, despite being horrified by Sylvia’s mental development, Audrina also sees just how pretty Sylvia is (eye roll!) and vows to help her grow up and be normal.

A Vivid Gothic Setting

As the years pass without Vera, Audrina spends most of her time with Arden. When Audrina turns sixteen, it comes time for Arden to go to college, but before leaving he tries to kiss her. Plagued with thoughts of her older sister’s rape and death, Audrina instantly goes frigid, which frustrated Arden to no end.

Audrina continues to mature, taking most of her time to help Sylvia. Eventually, she ends up giving Sylvia a set of prisms, which she uses to play and refract the light. Eventually, Ellsbeth gets frustrated with the lights flashing all over the kitchen but Audrina insists that Sylvia keep the prisms because they make her happy.

When Arden leaves, Audrina befriends Arden’s mother, Billie. Billie used to be a figure skater but then cut her leg while in her prime. Because Billie also had diabetes and didn’t realize it, the infection spread and she had to have both legs cut off.

Eventually, Ellsbeth falls down the stairs and dies. Audrina suspects that Ellsbeth fell because Sylvia disoriented her with the prisms, which makes for some interesting intrigue, right? I mean, maybe it’s not the most sensitive intrigue, using the “different” character as the one with questionable evil intent, but let’s just go on here.

A Rags to Riches Plot

After college, Arden returns and starts to discover that Damian’s embezzling a TON of money. Both Arden and Audrina consider confronting Damian about this, but end up not doing that because like, I dunno, Damian has the entire house fixed up? Then Billie decides to move into Whitefern, and SURPRISE SURPRISE, she ends up hooking up with Damian!

Audrina confronts Billie about the obvious one-way romance between Arden’s mother and her father, and Billie explains that Damian gives her all that she needs.

“Your father is the kind of man who needs a woman in his life, just as my son is. Damian hates being alone, hates doing anythign alone. He likes to come home and smell good food cooking. He likes someone to run his home, to keep it clean, to take care of his clothes, and I’ll gladly do all that for him, even if he never marries me. Audrina, doesn’t love make it not ugly? Doens’t love make all the difference… doesn’t it?”

page 279

No, Billie. It doesn’t, and it never should with piece of shit asshole dudes like Damian, no matter how fake their eyelashes look.

Anyway, Billie quickly makes herself the new Ellsebeth, using a homemade “cart” to wheel herself around the house. But then Sylvia takes a liking to the cart and begins stealing it from Billie to ride around the newly-cleaned hallways. Audrina makes her best effort to keep things calm in the house. She takes Sylvia out to the river to teach her about nature, but then a thunderstorm takes over and Syliva runs away. In her desperate search to find her, Audrina gets whacked in the face with a tree branch and then manages to find her way back to Whitefern.

Near the newel post I stumbled over something soft. I fell to my knees and began to crawl around in the dark, feeling with my hands for whatever had made me fall. My right hand slid on something wet, warm and sticky. At first I thought it was water from one of the fern pots, but the odor… the thickness of it… blood. It had to be blood. More gingerly, I reached with my left hand. Hair. Long, thick, curling hair. Strong hair that I knew from the feel was dark blue-black.

page 284

Audrina then finds Sylvia riding the cart at the top of the stairs, and then she wonders if Sylvia did, in fact, kill both Ellsbeth and Billie out of jealousy that they were taking up Audrina’s attention.

Fantastic Psychological Horror

In the chaos of the novel’s third act, Audrina and Arden take Sylvia from the house and get married. THey book a hotel room with an adjoining suite to consummate their marriage while keeping Syliva with them. Arden gets pissed about this. He’s waited literally his entire life to bone Audrina and he doesn’t wanna do it with Syliva around.

Anyway, because Audrina’s so haunted by the rape and murder of her dead sister, Audrina, she decides to delay the inevitable by “getting ready” in the most 80s possible way:

In the bedroom Arden and I were to share, he paced the floor impatiently while I took an hour-long tub bath and shampooed my hair. Next I rolled it on curlers, used my hair dryer, creamed my face, and while my hair finished drying, I removed my nail polish and did my nails all over again, my toenails, too. Now that my hair was thoroughly dry, I had to wait for my nails to dry as well. When they seemed solid enough, I carefully took out the curler sn brushed the tight curls into loose, soft waves. I sprayed on cologne and puffed on talcum and finally dropped a fancy nightgown down over my head. Stupid, stupid, I was calling myself for being afraid to go to my husband.

page 240

I read this and tried to imagine Arden pacing the floor for the 5 or so hours it probably took for her to get ready. But it doesn’t end there, folks! First, Audrina gets all insecure in the see-through peignoir that BILLIE gave to her (because I guess Billie knows what kind of see-through nightgowns her son would like?). But then Audrina gets all paranoid, thinking bout the first Audrina and about Vera bong Lamar. She starts to take the nightgown off but then Arden finally vocalizes his blue balls.

“You’ve got thirty seconds now. If you’re not out when you promised, I’m coming in. Even if I have to kick down that door, I’m coming in!”

page 241

Arden kicks the door in and partially injures himself, but not enough for him to back away from pushing the reluctant Audrina into having sex. There’s some arm-stroking, some breast-stroking, some nipple encircling over a thin see-through nightgown. Arden claims this is his first time but then Audrina worries that she’s not “the first” and then Arden claims that she isn’t.

This makes me wonder if Andrews is talking about sex or love, because the scene is unclear. Audrina asks who the “other girls” were, hinting at Vera, but Arden just…doesn’t answer and continues stroking her breasts until Audrina starts picturing the rocking chair and the former Audrina’s memories of the rape and the tree and the thunderstorm. She starts hearing the boys laughing at her like they did to the first Audrina.

I felt him jabbing deep into me, thick and hot and slippery wet. I fought to free myself, bucking, kicking, scratching. I clawed deep into the skin of his back, raked at his naked buttocks, but he didn’t stop. He kept on jabbing, causing the same kind of shame, the same kind of pain as they had caused her. His face… was that Adren’s boyish face with his hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes bulging as he stared before he turned and ran? No, no, Arden hadn’t been born then. He was just another like them, that was all. All men alike… all alike, alike… like…

page 247

Okay, it’s time to get personal for a moment:

Arden’s a rapist piece of shit, man. Like he said he wanted to go slow and easy on her but then he didn’t stop when she was literally scratching him? ALSO, while we don’t actually find out the truth until later that Audrina IS actually the first Audrina just gaslit by Damian to believe she wasn’t raped in order to get her over the PTSD of being raped by a bunch of boys as a 9-year-old. Arden wasn’t one of the original rapist boys but he did see the rape happening and just ran away, which I can forgive him for.

Him becoming a rapist himself? No. ANd I’m more than happy to watch him turn into an even bigger POS when I read Whitefern, so yeah.

This scene gripped me when I read it in high school, but I was also a teen when teen sex comedies had reached their cringeworthy peak:

watching a film from 2004 pic.twitter.com/DV1NkkbCpK

— Chris Thorburn (@CBThorburn) April 1, 2021

Growing up, and even now at times, I find myself beyond nervous around male attention. These movies gave me the perception that dudes ALWAYS saw women as sexual objects. Particularly, I remember going to the theatre to see Shallow Hal and sitting next to two teenage dudes who literally made sexual comments about EVERY SINGLE WOMAN that appeared on the screen. Nothing was off-limits. Arms? Legs? Cheekbones? Feet? I remember listening to them gawk over these women and my body crumpling in shame because I simply didn’t match up.

Even now, when I post my outfit pictures on Instagram and some dudes get way too forward, commenting more on ME than on the actual outfit, I start feeling objectified. Reading this sex rape scene as an adult, I can totally write-off Arden as a piece of shit.

Back when I was 14, though? I just thought it was a dive into Audrina’s psyche. I appreciated the darkness but still wanted her to be with Arden, because he was sO sWeEt BeFoRe!1!

Some Good Olde School Misogyny

Alright, so eventually Vera returns to Whitefern as a nurse. Audrina then learns the truth about the real Audrina and then, gets disoriented by the prisms which may or may not be caused by Sylvia. She too then falls down the stairs and into a coma. Nurse Vera tends to Audrina day after day. Audrina occasionally breaks out of her slumber and sees Vera and Arden like fucking and shit. Damian goes missing for days on end. Because he’s working, I guess?

Eventually, Sylvia helps Audrina get out of bed. Sylvia then kills Billy in her usual way of pushing her down the stairs. Now, one might argue that Sylvia never pushed anyone down the stairs, but come on, it’s obvious. Sylvia’s a murderer and we’re all totally okay with it, right?

Damien then finally confesses to Audrina that he basically made her think she was a younger version of her “dead” self so she wouldn’t have to live with the trauma of being raped as a 9-year-old because apparently having the trauma of living beneath a “perfect” sister’s shadow is easier? Damien claims he did this to protect her and shit, but at this point, I’m beyond feeling sorry for a guy who is not only an abuser, gaslighter, and a rich asshole, but also a fucking crybaby about his own misdeeds.

Anyway, Audrina forgives him. She does, however, decide to ditch Arden, a plot point which adult me was super stoked about. Sadly, adult me also forgot about the subsequent plot point where Arden comes crawling back full of apologies and Audrina forgives him TOO and they all live happily ever after or whatever. And I’m just, yeah, you’re on your own now, lady.

Maybe get some therapy, okay? You know how old you are now, Audrina. It’s time to be a grown-ass woman and start dealing with your baggage instead of trusting some asshole who refused to help you deal with it MULTIPLE TIMES.

Some Really Bad Writing

To be honest, I find Andrews’ actual-penned work really difficult to pick “bad” passages from. She definitely had the tendency to overwrite. Her pacing is also truly awful, which is part of the reason why writing this review took fucking FOREVER, is because the narrative doesn’t work in a way that keeps the reader grounded. In a way, this works at conveying Audrina’s character. She’s an unreliable narrator at heart, but Andrews’ writing does suffer a lot when she writes internal summaries that suddenly warp into actual scenes of the book. I find it very jarring and difficult to really “plot” this book out properly. It’s often hard to feel grounded in her prose.

But it comes from a very raw and honest place, which is why My Sweet Audrina is my favourite V.C. Andrews book. It’s a complicated mix of good and bad, and all I can really say about the writing is that it’s this weird complexity of “honest” and “bad” and “salacious” that makes V.C. Andrews’ writing just so absolutely gripping, even decades after this book was published.

My Sweet Audrina: My Final Thoughts

It took me several months to write this review. It’s easily been the most difficult Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review for me to write, and I hope that says a lot. I know that I’m not the only reader who struggled through this book, but it’s still my favourite V.C. Andrews story, simply for the sake that it was her only single book, at least, up until Neiderman went and wrote Whitefern, which I will get to eventually. I wish Audrina fucking ditched Arden and her dad by the end but I mean, it’s a damn V.C. Andrews book after all.

This book took so long to finish and while I wish the narrative was better-structured to make it a more pleasant read, I still came out of it with all the memories of my teenage self reading it during “silent reading” time in high school over several months. I still remember how gripped I was by it, and I know that this memory is what many V.C. Andrews fans appreciate about her work.

The post MY SWEET AUDRINA – A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

MOODBOARD: “The Walking Hours”

I’ve been a bit absent. Been dealing with some writer’s block. Been struggling with mom stuff. I’m exhausted and feel like a hack and have been dealing with anxiety. You know. Millennial shit. Writer shit. Living in what feels like end times shit. In August, however, all that end times shit actually did help me write a new story called “The Walking Hours” and you can actually read it right now in the “Vampires” October issue of THE CROW’S QUILL. Usually I make my moldboard posts before the story releases, but again, I’ve been waterlogged, so I’m coming at ya now with some details on “The Walking Hours”.

“The Walking Hours” Premise

When Frederick Barry returns home from war, he quickly marries his sweetheart, Julia, only to witness new ironic horrors of his wife’s sleepwalking. When a new family moves in next-door, Frederick can’t help but separate himself from his wartime memories, which only triggers his helplessness when Julia suggests they have a baby.

Some TikTok Inspiration

I was going to pass on writing a story for the October issue of The Crow’s Quill. See, its theme was “vampires”. And I dunno, maybe it’s because of Twilight, but vampires are one of my least-favourite mythical creatures. I find them limited. Cliche. Wrought with tropes and I didn’t want to touch any of those tropes. But then editor William Bartlett coaxed me to write one. Not that I felt pressured, but he expressed great faith in my ability to play with the genre.

I told him that I would keep my options open.

Anyway, at the time I was wrestling with what to do next. Return to my neglected novel edits or keep writing shorts? Instead, I downloaded TikTok. Perhaps foolishly, though I am pretty decent at limiting my time there. One of my best discoveries, however, was a series of sleeping videos from celinaspookyboo.

@celinaspookyboo

♬ original sound – Celinaspookyboo

I watched all of them, of course. Sleepwalking is notoriously known for being dangerous, but her videos just the symptom seem fun and humourous. I’m not sure where the connection to vampires came in, but what I loved most were the videos with Celina’s husband in them, when he’s sitting on the couch to prevent her from going outside, but also laughing his ass off. I just saw so much love and a solid grounded relationship in these videos that I couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. It made me want to writ a love story, not quite like Twilight, but definitely about the danger of vampires and also maybe…the safety?

A Retro Spin on Vampires

I’ve never really heard of a vampire story set in retro times. Part of what’s been thrilling about writing gothic fiction has been the pressure to set stories in other time periods. I really feel like gothic fiction can fit any time period, so with “The Walking Hours”, I took the post-war boom of the 1950s.

The war was over. Suburbs were built. Nitrogen was used to create fertilizer instead of bombs. Green lawns carpeted the land before every house. The economy hit a peak and. The middle-class thrived. Many soldiers, however, were still plagued with PTSD.

This is one of the things I love about writing historical fiction, is utilizing the dynamics of specific periods to create characters that I otherwise wouldn’t have. “The Walking Hours” is set in a growing suburb full of brightness and life, and it was fun to play that dynamic off the darkness of Frederick’s psyche and the looming truth about Julia’s sleepwalking.

“The Walking Hours” Playlist

In the interest of keeping this story grounded in a retro aesthetic, I wrote it religiously to some vintage tunes from the 40s-60s. Some of these songs are from the Mad Men soundtrack. Others I simply discovered. Honestly, though, listening to this soundtrack in the misery of BC’s dying summer days full of wildfire smoke did help put me in a more upbeat mood. It was truly a miserable summer for me, but writing this story and listening to this soundtrack were about the only things that kept me going.

Want to read “The Walking Hours”?

You can do so right now in the October 2021 “Vampires” issue of THE CROW’S QUILL. The entire issue’s theme is “vampires” so it’s definitely worth checking out if you are, in fact, a fan of vampires, or just gothic fiction in general.

The post MOODBOARD: “The Walking Hours” appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

“The Walking Hours” Now Out in THE CROW’S QUILL

I’ve done a shit job at keeping up with this blog all September. I’d try and explain myself but there’s no time for that because it is now October and I’ve a new story to share with you, called “The Walking Hours”. It’s a vampire story, which definitely isn’t my normal affair, but I’m glad I took on the challenge. In short order, I’ll share my MOODBOARD post all about the story, but because “The Walking Hours” drops TODAY, the very first day of my very favourite month which contains my very favourite holiday, here’s an excerpt for you.

THE WALKING HOURS

An Excerpt

Frederick had only known Julia for a week before the world changed. She was smitten enough to give him a photo when he left for France with a fresh haircut and a gun. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” she’d said. When Frederick returned unscathed, he held her face in his hands, swearing that she looked just the same. She nuzzled herself deep in his embrace, saying that he smelt just as sweet. 

They married and bought a modest home in the suburbs. Everyone knew he was a soldier, a hero, but Frederick preferred it when people commented on the green yard that he painstakingly kept free of weeds. He craved normalcy, but then one night he woke to Julia laughing maniacally. He ran down the stairs to find her crawling on her stomach across the living room floor, cackling as she moaned about how thirsty she was.

“I’ve always been a sleepwalker,” she said, serving him French toast the next morning. She hung her head in shame, but Frederick tucked his fingers beneath her chin.

“I guess I’m in love with a sleepwalker,” he said.

Months passed and Frederick woke to Julia stumbling through the house like a toddler, her voice slurred and rambling, her dreams in full exposure. He loved her, even if she stripped herself naked, even if she cursed, even if she spilled drinks and food, even if she opened the door and went for a midnight walk. Sometimes he’d wake to find her gone and he’d tear through the streets in his slippers, screaming her name until he found her.

He was careful not to wake her, but sometimes she did and she found her bearings in his arms. Then she’d laugh. That was her constant. She always managed to make him smile, which is what Frederick did every morning when he walked outside to retrieve the newspaper and the new bottle of milk. 

He shielded his eyes from the sunlight, taking notice of a fresh dandelion that poked out from the grass. He stepped off the stoop to pluck it, but was distracted by the moving truck that pulled up in front of the house across the street.

Out of the truck came a young family: a man, a wife holding a baby, and a boy who clutched a toy plane in his hands. The boy made plane sounds, bomb sounds, angry sounds. Frederick clutched at the dog tags he still hadn’t removed since his return from the war. He retreated, taking refuge at the kitchen table, where Julia placed a fresh crepe covered in icing sugar.

“It’s almost as sweet as you,” she said.

He felt the warmth of her smile, but then felt scratched at the itch on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, Fred?”

“Just a mosquito bite,” he said, picking up his fork.

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