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Green Fuse Burning
The debut novella from the Elgin Award winning author of Elegies of Rotting Stars. After the death of her estranged father, artist Rita struggles with grief and regret. There was so much she wanted to ask him-about his childhood, their family, and the Mi'kmaq language and culture from which Rita feels disconnected. But when Rita's girlfriend Molly forges an artist's residency application on her behalf, winning Rita a week to paint at an isolated cabin, Rita is both furious and intrigued. The residency is located where her father grew up. On the first night at the cabin, Rita wakes to strange sounds. Was that a body being dragged through the woods? When she questions the locals about the cabin's history, they are suspicious and unhelpful. Ignoring her unease, Rita gives in to dark visions that emanate from the forest's lake and the surrounding swamp. She feels its pull, channelling that energy into art like she's never painted before. But the uncanny visions become more insistent, more intrusive, and Rita discovers that in the swamp's decay the end of one life is sometimes the beginning of another.
107 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 31, 2023
51 people are currently reading
8345 people want to read
About the author
Tiffany Morris
37 books165 followersTiffany Morris is an L’nu’skw (Mi’kmaw) writer from Nova Scotia. She is the author of the swampcore horror novella Green Fuse Burning (Stelliform Books, 2023) and the Elgin-nominated horror poetry collection Elegies of Rotting Stars (Nictitating Books, 2022). Her work has appeared in the Indigenous horror anthology Never Whistle At Night, as well as in Nightmare Magazine, Uncanny Magazine, and Apex Magazine, among others. She has an MA in English with a focus on Indigenous Futurisms and apocalyptic literature.
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October 31, 2023
GREEN FUSE BURNING by Tiffany Morris
Other Books I Enjoyed by This Author: Debut
Affiliate Link: https://bookshop.org/a/7576/978177809...
Release Date: October 31st, 2023
General Genre: Horror, Natural Order
Sub-Genre/Themes “Swampcore”, environmental, queer, indigenous pov, grief, death, artist (art, creation, inspiration), therapy, mental health, suicidal ideation, isolation
Writing Style: visceral, intimate, lyrical, emotive
What You Need to Know: Stelliform Press is a micro press dedicated to publishing stories by diverse voices with an emphasis on stories focusing on environmental issues. They are committed to sustainable, earth-conscious publishing decisions and amplifying stories from unique perspectives. I was gifted an early review copy of this book so I purchased a book from their catalog that appealed to me and I can’t wait to read it. Stelliform’s mission is important and I want to support it.
My Reading Experience:
“Why did people need to be in nature to process the things that happened to them? Maybe it was because what was thought of as wild did not require a veil—it saw you as you truly were: an animal skulking among animals.”
The main character, Rita, is suffering after the death of her father. In an effort to help, Rita’s girlfriend, Molly, surprises her with grant money to fund an art project. Rita goes to an isolated cabin near a swamp to be alone with her grief and to be inspired.
“Her memories were colonized by trauma.”
She has a bit of a rough start plagued by invasive, unwanted emotions and thoughts but during the course of her stay, the swamp begins to work its cathartic magic. Morris has an experienced storytelling voice that I found soothing and engaging. Her descriptions of Rita’s surroundings were visually stimulating–I could see everything–almost smell it.
Having just read the book BAD CREE by Jessica Johns, I was constantly struck by how much the themes related to each other. Both characters retreat into themselves after the traumatic death of a loved one. Self-sabotaging relationships and beating themselves up with too much guilt, shame, and doubt.
The catharsis of Rita’s constant therapeutic exercises and diving into her art projects had an effect on me too. I loved how chapters were prefaced with critical descriptions of Rita’s artwork as part of a collection the reader gets to *see* during the course of the story.
The visions and dreams, all of Rita’s anxieties and worries climbing to a fever pitch keep the pages turning.
“She touched the wet canvas—the slimy accumulated glob of paint, fungal and spongy, gave under her touch in a rush of paint like blood. Paint like a nosebleed, viscous but watery.”
That’s the “swampcore” element. And there’s a Lichen Woman that I was obsessed with.
Final Recommendation: I love this novella. It’s the perfect companion piece to BAD CREE by Jessica Johns and I feel lucky that I was able to read them back to back. Reading this story felt like a mixed-media collage for the mind. Images of crow feathers, mycelium, moss, and croaking frogs interwoven with the emotional stages of grief. A beautiful, healing journey of self-discovery and acceptance.
Comps: BAD CREE by Jessica Johns and Jeff Vandermeer’s AREA X, A GUEST IN THE HOUSE by Emily Carroll
Other Books I Enjoyed by This Author: Debut
Affiliate Link: https://bookshop.org/a/7576/978177809...
Release Date: October 31st, 2023
General Genre: Horror, Natural Order
Sub-Genre/Themes “Swampcore”, environmental, queer, indigenous pov, grief, death, artist (art, creation, inspiration), therapy, mental health, suicidal ideation, isolation
Writing Style: visceral, intimate, lyrical, emotive
What You Need to Know: Stelliform Press is a micro press dedicated to publishing stories by diverse voices with an emphasis on stories focusing on environmental issues. They are committed to sustainable, earth-conscious publishing decisions and amplifying stories from unique perspectives. I was gifted an early review copy of this book so I purchased a book from their catalog that appealed to me and I can’t wait to read it. Stelliform’s mission is important and I want to support it.
My Reading Experience:
“Why did people need to be in nature to process the things that happened to them? Maybe it was because what was thought of as wild did not require a veil—it saw you as you truly were: an animal skulking among animals.”
The main character, Rita, is suffering after the death of her father. In an effort to help, Rita’s girlfriend, Molly, surprises her with grant money to fund an art project. Rita goes to an isolated cabin near a swamp to be alone with her grief and to be inspired.
“Her memories were colonized by trauma.”
She has a bit of a rough start plagued by invasive, unwanted emotions and thoughts but during the course of her stay, the swamp begins to work its cathartic magic. Morris has an experienced storytelling voice that I found soothing and engaging. Her descriptions of Rita’s surroundings were visually stimulating–I could see everything–almost smell it.
Having just read the book BAD CREE by Jessica Johns, I was constantly struck by how much the themes related to each other. Both characters retreat into themselves after the traumatic death of a loved one. Self-sabotaging relationships and beating themselves up with too much guilt, shame, and doubt.
The catharsis of Rita’s constant therapeutic exercises and diving into her art projects had an effect on me too. I loved how chapters were prefaced with critical descriptions of Rita’s artwork as part of a collection the reader gets to *see* during the course of the story.
The visions and dreams, all of Rita’s anxieties and worries climbing to a fever pitch keep the pages turning.
“She touched the wet canvas—the slimy accumulated glob of paint, fungal and spongy, gave under her touch in a rush of paint like blood. Paint like a nosebleed, viscous but watery.”
That’s the “swampcore” element. And there’s a Lichen Woman that I was obsessed with.
Final Recommendation: I love this novella. It’s the perfect companion piece to BAD CREE by Jessica Johns and I feel lucky that I was able to read them back to back. Reading this story felt like a mixed-media collage for the mind. Images of crow feathers, mycelium, moss, and croaking frogs interwoven with the emotional stages of grief. A beautiful, healing journey of self-discovery and acceptance.
Comps: BAD CREE by Jessica Johns and Jeff Vandermeer’s AREA X, A GUEST IN THE HOUSE by Emily Carroll
February 2, 2026
☆☆.5 stars
Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morris wasn’t quite the fit I was hoping for. I’ll start by saying the cover is stunning, and there's absolutely nothing to criticise about that. Also, Morris' writing style is captivating, she clearly knows how to express herself and create a strong atmosphere. I appreciated the inclusion of Indigenous characters, which added a layer of depth to the narrative.
However, despite these positives, the novella just didn’t work for me. A lot of the story went over my head, and there were moments when I genuinely didn’t know what was going on. I’m sure this is more of a personal issue, but I found it hard to connect with the storyline. I also found the tone of the book a bit pretentious, but not in a way that felt purposeful or enriching. It felt more like it was trying too hard to be profound, but it missed the mark for me.
The main theme of the book is grief, and while I fully understand that everyone grieves differently, I struggled to relate to the actions of the protagonist, Rita. Her behaviour often felt disconnected or confusing, and I couldn’t always follow her emotional journey. If this book had been longer, I’m pretty sure I would have DNF’d it, but since it was a novella, I stuck with it.
If you enjoyed The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir (which, full disclosure, I didn’t care for either), you might find something in Green Fuse Burning to connect with. For me, though, it wasn’t the right fit.
Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morris wasn’t quite the fit I was hoping for. I’ll start by saying the cover is stunning, and there's absolutely nothing to criticise about that. Also, Morris' writing style is captivating, she clearly knows how to express herself and create a strong atmosphere. I appreciated the inclusion of Indigenous characters, which added a layer of depth to the narrative.
However, despite these positives, the novella just didn’t work for me. A lot of the story went over my head, and there were moments when I genuinely didn’t know what was going on. I’m sure this is more of a personal issue, but I found it hard to connect with the storyline. I also found the tone of the book a bit pretentious, but not in a way that felt purposeful or enriching. It felt more like it was trying too hard to be profound, but it missed the mark for me.
The main theme of the book is grief, and while I fully understand that everyone grieves differently, I struggled to relate to the actions of the protagonist, Rita. Her behaviour often felt disconnected or confusing, and I couldn’t always follow her emotional journey. If this book had been longer, I’m pretty sure I would have DNF’d it, but since it was a novella, I stuck with it.
If you enjoyed The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir (which, full disclosure, I didn’t care for either), you might find something in Green Fuse Burning to connect with. For me, though, it wasn’t the right fit.
August 24, 2023
If you are interested in reading a gorgeously written literary horror novella set in the creepy woods where something, or someone, lurks in the muddy waters, look no further.
After her girlfriend Molly gifts her a 7-day artist's retreat at a secluded cabin in the woods, Rita Francis decides to take a break from the mundanity of her job at the art store and seek inspiration in nature. Even though Molly went behind Rita's back and kickstarted a funded art project she clumsily named The Devouring, Rita could not be ungrateful and reject such a generous present. On the first night at the cabin, Rita awakes in the dead of night to the sound of footsteps on gravel and something being thrown into the pond. Her immediate thought is that someone threw a body into the pond, but she sees nothing after peeking out the window. During the rest of her stay in the woods, Rita continues to experience bizarre events, all somehow connected to the large pond near her cabin. After a somnambulistic episode, Rita wakes up in the woods disoriented. Soon she comes face to face with a mysterious woman engulfed in flames. Who is this woman, and what does she want with Rita?
In only 100-ish pages, Green Fuse Burning utterly grips the reader and makes them listen to Rita's story. With its surrealist, introspective writing, Tiffany Morris invites us to the humid, muddy lands of Nova Scotia. Just like the author herself, our protagonist Rita is an Indigenous woman, specifically belonging to the Mi'kmaw people.
Morris's debut novel revolves around the ever-important topic of grief and healing. Years after Rita's father had died, she still struggled to make peace with his passing. Her grief pressed down on her, stifled her creativity, made her passive, and caused a strain on her relationship with Molly. That is why the artist's retreat provided a wonderful opportunity for Rita to connect with the natural world around her and explore the depths of her imagination.
Each chapter of the novel begins with a short review of one of Rita's paintings she had made during her stay at the cabin. Rita's mixed media acrylic paintings represent the mental transmutation she underwent in the woods. The most prominent color in her paintings is green, which Rita associates with grief.
"How would she ever capture that devouring green, even with these shades lined up so perfectly, neatly, their vibrance still nowhere near the sickeningly alive world around her..."
Morris uses body horror to show us Rita struggling with her grief. There are a few graphic scenes but nothing too gory. Green Fuse Burning is a tale of normalizing death and grief. We all face loss at some point in our lives. The novella sends a message that we should not shy away from grieving. It can be a messy, exhausting, and long-lasting process, but we should not deny ourselves the experience. Grief is a deeply transformative time for everyone. As Rita says, we do not protect life by denying death's existence. Green Fuse Burning is a powerful elegy to the cycle of death and life, grief and healing. It is also a love letter to wetlands, swamps, bogs, and the rest.
Thank you to Netgalley for the review copy!
After her girlfriend Molly gifts her a 7-day artist's retreat at a secluded cabin in the woods, Rita Francis decides to take a break from the mundanity of her job at the art store and seek inspiration in nature. Even though Molly went behind Rita's back and kickstarted a funded art project she clumsily named The Devouring, Rita could not be ungrateful and reject such a generous present. On the first night at the cabin, Rita awakes in the dead of night to the sound of footsteps on gravel and something being thrown into the pond. Her immediate thought is that someone threw a body into the pond, but she sees nothing after peeking out the window. During the rest of her stay in the woods, Rita continues to experience bizarre events, all somehow connected to the large pond near her cabin. After a somnambulistic episode, Rita wakes up in the woods disoriented. Soon she comes face to face with a mysterious woman engulfed in flames. Who is this woman, and what does she want with Rita?
In only 100-ish pages, Green Fuse Burning utterly grips the reader and makes them listen to Rita's story. With its surrealist, introspective writing, Tiffany Morris invites us to the humid, muddy lands of Nova Scotia. Just like the author herself, our protagonist Rita is an Indigenous woman, specifically belonging to the Mi'kmaw people.
Morris's debut novel revolves around the ever-important topic of grief and healing. Years after Rita's father had died, she still struggled to make peace with his passing. Her grief pressed down on her, stifled her creativity, made her passive, and caused a strain on her relationship with Molly. That is why the artist's retreat provided a wonderful opportunity for Rita to connect with the natural world around her and explore the depths of her imagination.
Each chapter of the novel begins with a short review of one of Rita's paintings she had made during her stay at the cabin. Rita's mixed media acrylic paintings represent the mental transmutation she underwent in the woods. The most prominent color in her paintings is green, which Rita associates with grief.
"How would she ever capture that devouring green, even with these shades lined up so perfectly, neatly, their vibrance still nowhere near the sickeningly alive world around her..."
Morris uses body horror to show us Rita struggling with her grief. There are a few graphic scenes but nothing too gory. Green Fuse Burning is a tale of normalizing death and grief. We all face loss at some point in our lives. The novella sends a message that we should not shy away from grieving. It can be a messy, exhausting, and long-lasting process, but we should not deny ourselves the experience. Grief is a deeply transformative time for everyone. As Rita says, we do not protect life by denying death's existence. Green Fuse Burning is a powerful elegy to the cycle of death and life, grief and healing. It is also a love letter to wetlands, swamps, bogs, and the rest.
Thank you to Netgalley for the review copy!
November 4, 2023
Wonderful debut novella about an artist on a strange retreat. I'm really starting to come around on horror, it was always the genre I disliked most as a kid, I guess I just didn't take to some of the movies that everyone else loves. But I'm starting to see it has more potential to examine our lives than other forms of genre writing. I dunno.
The prose is vivid, and the plot refuses all of the easy turns this sort of thing might otherwise take. Lots of fascinating nature imagery, all culminating with the Lichen Woman, such a great character/image that all I can really say is you have to read it for yourself.
Loved the ekphrastic bits at the start of each chapter. Something very tactile about the protagonist's art?
Made me think a lot about my grandmother, who died a little over a year ago now, and who I associate strongly with the pond near her place back home in Nova Scotia (one that can be upgraded/downgraded to swamp or lake depending on what sort of dignity you're trying to lend it).
The prose is vivid, and the plot refuses all of the easy turns this sort of thing might otherwise take. Lots of fascinating nature imagery, all culminating with the Lichen Woman, such a great character/image that all I can really say is you have to read it for yourself.
Loved the ekphrastic bits at the start of each chapter. Something very tactile about the protagonist's art?
Made me think a lot about my grandmother, who died a little over a year ago now, and who I associate strongly with the pond near her place back home in Nova Scotia (one that can be upgraded/downgraded to swamp or lake depending on what sort of dignity you're trying to lend it).
January 28, 2024
i was def too dumb for this book but the writing is gorgeous!
October 9, 2025
I have mixed feelings about this novella. Let me start by saying that Tiffany Morris’s writing is absolutely stunning. I found myself immersed in a world that was vivid, atmospheric, and fantastical. The story is rich with poetic beauty—haunting and mystical—yet deeply resonant with the natural world. The best parts of this book, for me, were the eerie moments where Morris explores the connection to the Earth, and the elemental depths that evoke both a sense of awe and fear. These moments capture the way our relationship with the land and its mysteries can feel both foreign and deeply ingrained within us, as though the unknown is part of our very essence.
"...she was truly alone, her ache for parental guidance a phantom limb pulsing like the pain of her wounded hands."
In Green Fuse Burning, we follow Rita, an artist grappling with grief after the death of her estranged father. Rita struggles with feelings of regret over their relationship, realizing that there was much she wished she could have asked him, particularly about their family and Mi'kmaq heritage. Her girlfriend, Molly, sends her to an isolated artist residency in the swamplands where her father’s family is from, a place with deep ancestral significance, so that Rita can reconnect with her art and heal. Initially reluctant, Rita arrives at the cabin and starts experiencing eerie and unsettling phenomena. Strange sounds from the nearby pond, mysterious local warnings, and disturbing visions all pull her deeper into a dark, mystical world tied to both her emotional state and the land's indigenous roots.
"(in the city) individual experiences clamored against each other, solitudes mutated and merged in split-second interactions, transactions of awareness. You could go days without talking to anyone, but there would still be countless people outside your window, smothering their alienation and trauma with polite silence and pleasantries or shouts of drunken joy, seeking or avoiding their own solitude..."
Throughout Rita's experience in solitude, she channels her tumultuous emotions into her art, creating vivid and haunting paintings that reflect her mental and spiritual unraveling. As she confronts her personal trauma and her complex relationship with her heritage, she becomes increasingly enmeshed in the ancient, supernatural forces surrounding her. The narrative explores themes of transformation, grief, death, rebirth, and reconnection with one’s cultural and spiritual inheritance.
"What was it to fall asleep in a dream? Nothing piled upon nothing. Immersion into a waiting oblivion..."
While I deeply enjoyed the story and Morris's writing, I did find myself confused by certain elements. Though I appreciated the vivid descriptions of Rita’s world and surroundings, there were moments when I struggled to follow the story due to a lack of clear structure. The book introduces aspects of indigenous folklore, magic and environmentalism, but not all of these were as fleshed out as I hoped, leaving me unsure about the nature of these elements and their relationship to the real world. As someone from outside this culture, I can only view this as a visitor to the story Morris is telling, and perhaps the ethereal nature was intentional. However, this abstraction made it harder for me to ground myself in the mechanics of the story, especially when certain plot points seemed to rely heavily on these mystical aspects that I didn’t fully grasp.
Some of the plot points and character decisions felt underexplained or ambiguous. While Rita’s journey was richly explored, the secondary characters felt somewhat out of step, with their motivations unclear at times. Despite this, I found myself intrigued, wanting to understand more about their roles and the choices they made.
It’s evident that indigenous spirituality and ecological themes are central to the story, but without further explanation or a more detailed structure for the mystical systems at play, I was left wondering about the significance of certain elements. Ultimately, I loved this book for its atmosphere and poetic beauty, but I wished that some of the protagonist’s interactions with the supernatural and symbolic elements were more fully contextualized. With clearer boundaries between reality, the spiritual realm, and metaphor, I could have been more immersed without the occasional confusion.
With deep respect for Tiffany Morris and her cultural roots, I view Green Fuse Burning as an allegory for grief and the cyclical nature of life and death, both in the natural world and in human emotions. While I deeply appreciated the beauty and depth of the story, I recognize that some of my confusion stems from my unfamiliarity with the cultural and spiritual nuances that shape this narrative. I look forward to reading more of Morris’s work and hope that she continues to explore these sacred elements in a way that connects even more readers to their richness, offering a deeper, more immersive understanding of the powerful traditions that inspire her stories.
"...she was truly alone, her ache for parental guidance a phantom limb pulsing like the pain of her wounded hands."
In Green Fuse Burning, we follow Rita, an artist grappling with grief after the death of her estranged father. Rita struggles with feelings of regret over their relationship, realizing that there was much she wished she could have asked him, particularly about their family and Mi'kmaq heritage. Her girlfriend, Molly, sends her to an isolated artist residency in the swamplands where her father’s family is from, a place with deep ancestral significance, so that Rita can reconnect with her art and heal. Initially reluctant, Rita arrives at the cabin and starts experiencing eerie and unsettling phenomena. Strange sounds from the nearby pond, mysterious local warnings, and disturbing visions all pull her deeper into a dark, mystical world tied to both her emotional state and the land's indigenous roots.
"(in the city) individual experiences clamored against each other, solitudes mutated and merged in split-second interactions, transactions of awareness. You could go days without talking to anyone, but there would still be countless people outside your window, smothering their alienation and trauma with polite silence and pleasantries or shouts of drunken joy, seeking or avoiding their own solitude..."
Throughout Rita's experience in solitude, she channels her tumultuous emotions into her art, creating vivid and haunting paintings that reflect her mental and spiritual unraveling. As she confronts her personal trauma and her complex relationship with her heritage, she becomes increasingly enmeshed in the ancient, supernatural forces surrounding her. The narrative explores themes of transformation, grief, death, rebirth, and reconnection with one’s cultural and spiritual inheritance.
"What was it to fall asleep in a dream? Nothing piled upon nothing. Immersion into a waiting oblivion..."
While I deeply enjoyed the story and Morris's writing, I did find myself confused by certain elements. Though I appreciated the vivid descriptions of Rita’s world and surroundings, there were moments when I struggled to follow the story due to a lack of clear structure. The book introduces aspects of indigenous folklore, magic and environmentalism, but not all of these were as fleshed out as I hoped, leaving me unsure about the nature of these elements and their relationship to the real world. As someone from outside this culture, I can only view this as a visitor to the story Morris is telling, and perhaps the ethereal nature was intentional. However, this abstraction made it harder for me to ground myself in the mechanics of the story, especially when certain plot points seemed to rely heavily on these mystical aspects that I didn’t fully grasp.
Some of the plot points and character decisions felt underexplained or ambiguous. While Rita’s journey was richly explored, the secondary characters felt somewhat out of step, with their motivations unclear at times. Despite this, I found myself intrigued, wanting to understand more about their roles and the choices they made.
It’s evident that indigenous spirituality and ecological themes are central to the story, but without further explanation or a more detailed structure for the mystical systems at play, I was left wondering about the significance of certain elements. Ultimately, I loved this book for its atmosphere and poetic beauty, but I wished that some of the protagonist’s interactions with the supernatural and symbolic elements were more fully contextualized. With clearer boundaries between reality, the spiritual realm, and metaphor, I could have been more immersed without the occasional confusion.
With deep respect for Tiffany Morris and her cultural roots, I view Green Fuse Burning as an allegory for grief and the cyclical nature of life and death, both in the natural world and in human emotions. While I deeply appreciated the beauty and depth of the story, I recognize that some of my confusion stems from my unfamiliarity with the cultural and spiritual nuances that shape this narrative. I look forward to reading more of Morris’s work and hope that she continues to explore these sacred elements in a way that connects even more readers to their richness, offering a deeper, more immersive understanding of the powerful traditions that inspire her stories.
October 6, 2024
I liked the overall vibe and ideas behind this debut novella, and I thought it was novel having each chapter introduced with a curator’s description of a piece of art the main character created. It did invoke a hazy, green dreamscape experience. However, it was hard to be entirely invested in the character, because there were more vibes than plot. The flashbacks went a long way to giving the character depth, she felt real and genuine, but everything after she got to the cabin was just written in too ephemeral a way for me to find myself particularly invested. That said there was some great imagery and I did enjoy the lushness of the prose.
October 19, 2023
The imagery in this book is stunning, you get a sense of the settings that's sprawling, primeval and majestic but also somehow oppressive and suffocating.
The prose is lovely, both evocative and contemplative. Morris really knows how to strike just the right balance between form and function so the prose never comes across as needlessly convoluted or as plain.
The structure is interesting, each chapter begins with a review of one of the paintings Rita made during her stay at the cabin and with our increasing understanding of the imagery and of Rita state of mind it becomes increasingly uncomfortable and anxiogenic.
I really liked Rita and found her struggle with grief, her relationship with her girlfriend and with her own sense of self highly relatable. Rita is not just mourning the loss of her father but that of her sense of belonging to a culture that's both hers and not at once, it's a grief that's nuanced, heavy and tremendously important, Morris managed to bring these topics to the page in a most elegant way.
While there is a lot of story in this novella nothing feels rushed and there's an almost gothic vibe to the horror.
4.5 rounded up, the only reason this one isn't a 5 is that at one point near the end it got a little hard to follow.
I received a digital ARC of this book for review consideration, many thanks to BookSirens and Stelliform Press.
The prose is lovely, both evocative and contemplative. Morris really knows how to strike just the right balance between form and function so the prose never comes across as needlessly convoluted or as plain.
The structure is interesting, each chapter begins with a review of one of the paintings Rita made during her stay at the cabin and with our increasing understanding of the imagery and of Rita state of mind it becomes increasingly uncomfortable and anxiogenic.
I really liked Rita and found her struggle with grief, her relationship with her girlfriend and with her own sense of self highly relatable. Rita is not just mourning the loss of her father but that of her sense of belonging to a culture that's both hers and not at once, it's a grief that's nuanced, heavy and tremendously important, Morris managed to bring these topics to the page in a most elegant way.
While there is a lot of story in this novella nothing feels rushed and there's an almost gothic vibe to the horror.
4.5 rounded up, the only reason this one isn't a 5 is that at one point near the end it got a little hard to follow.
I received a digital ARC of this book for review consideration, many thanks to BookSirens and Stelliform Press.
February 18, 2025
Life was like a language I couldn't speak.
I've been meaning to read this for WAY too long, and I'm glad I finally did. I listened to the audiobook narrated by the author and it was lovely! I love grief-themed horror stories and this one portrayed it beautifully. While the more horror-centric elements of the plot lost me at times, I kept being drawn back in by not only the protagonist's commentary on grief and loss, but also by her own mental struggles with simply existing. I thought the ending felt a little bit rushed and wouldn't have minded the novella being longer, but overall, I really enjoyed it.
I read a final copy borrowed from the library, but for the sake of disclosure, I was also gifted an early review copy. All thoughts are honest and my own.
✨ Representation: sapphic Mi'kmaq main character, sapphic side character, portrayal of a sapphic relationship
✨ Content warnings for:
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September 11, 2024
'Life was like a language I couldn't speak.' 💣
#Swampcore with a climate change horror element - A dreamy, amorphous, intense and powerful read. 🖤
Some of my favourites that I've highlighted ...so gorgeously written..so poignant...poetic tragedy and rebirthing. You go on a journey of self discovery and healing with Rita. 🖤💚
⬇️
⚠️SPOILER
"Rita sobbed as another frog climbed up her esophagus, its legs thrashing against the walls of her throat. Its croaking buried Rita’s choking scream. As she rolled onto her hands and knees, her skin burned in cold mud. She was sure she was bleeding — from her hands if not her throat. No amount of retching, no streams of hot saliva dripping into the water would be enough to spit the sour taste of the frogs from her mouth, exorcise the pond from her being, vomit up her failures with Molly, her grief, the void at her centre, the result of all her ghosts, even the ones of her own making."
"She felt a twinge of sadness at the memory, but it did not overtake her. She was in the life that she had made for herself and the night was rustling alive in its silvery cocoon. A moon she didn’t know the new name for was burning lantern-bright above. No matter how long it would take for death to someday — hopefully not too soon — take her, she would be ready for it to bring her into its starlight and shadow. She felt eternity’s bruise on her soul, but she welcomed the grief of this new life, each ventricle of her heart singing the shining deep green chant of her blood."
⬆️
E-📖
#Swampcore with a climate change horror element - A dreamy, amorphous, intense and powerful read. 🖤
Some of my favourites that I've highlighted ...so gorgeously written..so poignant...poetic tragedy and rebirthing. You go on a journey of self discovery and healing with Rita. 🖤💚
⬇️
⚠️SPOILER
"Rita sobbed as another frog climbed up her esophagus, its legs thrashing against the walls of her throat. Its croaking buried Rita’s choking scream. As she rolled onto her hands and knees, her skin burned in cold mud. She was sure she was bleeding — from her hands if not her throat. No amount of retching, no streams of hot saliva dripping into the water would be enough to spit the sour taste of the frogs from her mouth, exorcise the pond from her being, vomit up her failures with Molly, her grief, the void at her centre, the result of all her ghosts, even the ones of her own making."
"She felt a twinge of sadness at the memory, but it did not overtake her. She was in the life that she had made for herself and the night was rustling alive in its silvery cocoon. A moon she didn’t know the new name for was burning lantern-bright above. No matter how long it would take for death to someday — hopefully not too soon — take her, she would be ready for it to bring her into its starlight and shadow. She felt eternity’s bruise on her soul, but she welcomed the grief of this new life, each ventricle of her heart singing the shining deep green chant of her blood."
⬆️
E-📖
October 29, 2024
I'd have liked this book a looooot better if it hadn't committed the Cardinal Sin of the author going out of their way to very explicitly tell the reader EXACTLY what they should take away from this book, right there at the very end. It wasn't even funny, there's a scene in which the protagonist effectively turns to the audience and spells out the book's messages/ intent; I felt like I was rewatching Cats (2019), with its Dame Judi Dench jumpscare monologue finale.
Authors love dunking on "show, don't tell", saying that it's an outdated cliche etc etc, and then they go and pull shit like this. It is insulting to the reader's intelligence (because it clearly states that the author thinks we're all too dumb to understand), vaguely smug, and patronizing. What if...... you'd written a better book..... and those messages came through the text itself throughout the whole book instead of a self-congratulating monologue slapped on at the end? Or, even better, shouldn't you just let the readers draw their own conclusions instead of turning into a finger wagger?
Ignoring that last part, the book is "just okay". Even though we spend lots of time in Rita's head, I never felt like we truly dug deep into her. The other characters felt like cardboard cutouts with nothing really being done with them (like Rita's girlfriend being a bit of a White Saviour and MLM enthusiast, or that random cashier that got two scenes for some reason. Why was she in the woods? Did Rita hallucinate her?) We're told in the very beginning that Rita is missing and those paintings are all that's left, and yet she..... still shows up at the end for the patronizing monologue. Clickbait vibes.
The Lichen Woman scene was probably the highlight, but then she suddenly started humming just to really drive the point home that the author must've read and loved The Beauty (which I....... did not enjoy) But this is mostly just me nitpicking. If the book had just ended before the Monologue, I probably wouldn't be talking about this.
Overall the book wasn't unreadable trash or anything, not to mention that I probably shouldn't be judging it so harshly since it's a debut. The writing was really evocative and lyrical, and the author does make an effort to tackle some serious topics; but that's the problem, it was an "effort" that didn't really go anywhere.
Authors love dunking on "show, don't tell", saying that it's an outdated cliche etc etc, and then they go and pull shit like this. It is insulting to the reader's intelligence (because it clearly states that the author thinks we're all too dumb to understand), vaguely smug, and patronizing. What if...... you'd written a better book..... and those messages came through the text itself throughout the whole book instead of a self-congratulating monologue slapped on at the end? Or, even better, shouldn't you just let the readers draw their own conclusions instead of turning into a finger wagger?
Ignoring that last part, the book is "just okay". Even though we spend lots of time in Rita's head, I never felt like we truly dug deep into her. The other characters felt like cardboard cutouts with nothing really being done with them (like Rita's girlfriend being a bit of a White Saviour and MLM enthusiast, or that random cashier that got two scenes for some reason. Why was she in the woods? Did Rita hallucinate her?) We're told in the very beginning that Rita is missing and those paintings are all that's left, and yet she..... still shows up at the end for the patronizing monologue. Clickbait vibes.
The Lichen Woman scene was probably the highlight, but then she suddenly started humming just to really drive the point home that the author must've read and loved The Beauty (which I....... did not enjoy) But this is mostly just me nitpicking. If the book had just ended before the Monologue, I probably wouldn't be talking about this.
Overall the book wasn't unreadable trash or anything, not to mention that I probably shouldn't be judging it so harshly since it's a debut. The writing was really evocative and lyrical, and the author does make an effort to tackle some serious topics; but that's the problem, it was an "effort" that didn't really go anywhere.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 31, 2023
She was entering her true solitude. Why did people need to be in nature to process the things that happened to them? Maybe it was because what was thought of as wild did not require a veil — it saw you as you truly were: an animal skulking among animals.
Green Fuse Burning is a dense, lyrical and very tense (especially for my mental landscape at the moment, landscape, get it?) horror novella about an artist going to an artist's residency near a pond. Rita is still in deep grief over her father's death and feels very cut off from everyone, including her partner (who ambushed her with the residency).
The novella has this great structure, describing the series of works that Rita creates in her little cabin and every chapter starts with a painting and continues with us following her in the woods, in her climate change dread (hot weather starting much sooner than usual, natural rhythms of nature being out of whack), her memories of grief, her disconnect from her Mi'kmaq language and culture, her difficult relationship with her partner.
I don't want too spoil what it is really about, thematically, but I can say that I absolutely loved the ending. The read itself felt uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing for me and quite scary - all of these in good ways, in the way I like being challenged by horror. It can be difficult to read if you're in the middle of a depressive episode (CW for suicidal ideation), but it ultimately felt cathartic for me, both for my mental health and in the grief I still sometimes deal with when it comes to my own father's death.
The writing is so lush (as lush as the nature described in the book), so vivid and at many points truly nightmarish that it felt on the verge of too much (which is actually my preferred level of horror). When I say 'Oh no!' out loud, that's when I am engaged with the writing!
Thank you to the publisher, Stelliform Press, for providing me with an ARC of this novella!
Green Fuse Burning is a dense, lyrical and very tense (especially for my mental landscape at the moment, landscape, get it?) horror novella about an artist going to an artist's residency near a pond. Rita is still in deep grief over her father's death and feels very cut off from everyone, including her partner (who ambushed her with the residency).
The novella has this great structure, describing the series of works that Rita creates in her little cabin and every chapter starts with a painting and continues with us following her in the woods, in her climate change dread (hot weather starting much sooner than usual, natural rhythms of nature being out of whack), her memories of grief, her disconnect from her Mi'kmaq language and culture, her difficult relationship with her partner.
I don't want too spoil what it is really about, thematically, but I can say that I absolutely loved the ending. The read itself felt uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing for me and quite scary - all of these in good ways, in the way I like being challenged by horror. It can be difficult to read if you're in the middle of a depressive episode (CW for suicidal ideation), but it ultimately felt cathartic for me, both for my mental health and in the grief I still sometimes deal with when it comes to my own father's death.
The writing is so lush (as lush as the nature described in the book), so vivid and at many points truly nightmarish that it felt on the verge of too much (which is actually my preferred level of horror). When I say 'Oh no!' out loud, that's when I am engaged with the writing!
Thank you to the publisher, Stelliform Press, for providing me with an ARC of this novella!
February 9, 2025
this was a novella that i very much enjoyed. creepy with a touch of body horror, along with grief mixed in with deep issues surrounding isolation and culture, with some very descriptive writing that was great and really immersive. quick and impactful story
November 23, 2025
4/4.25 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫
Ebook format 📖
Green Fuse Burning is a wonderful written debut novel by Tiffany Morris.
It’s speculative fiction that explores themes of grief, depression, self discovery, and truly loosing oneself in nature.
“Why did people need to be in nature to process the things that happened to them? Maybe it was because what was thought of as wild did not require a veil - it saw you as you truly were: an animal skulking among animals.”
I’m glad to finally get to this one and looking forward to reading more books by her!
Ebook format 📖
Green Fuse Burning is a wonderful written debut novel by Tiffany Morris.
It’s speculative fiction that explores themes of grief, depression, self discovery, and truly loosing oneself in nature.
“Why did people need to be in nature to process the things that happened to them? Maybe it was because what was thought of as wild did not require a veil - it saw you as you truly were: an animal skulking among animals.”
I’m glad to finally get to this one and looking forward to reading more books by her!
February 16, 2026
an indigenous near-future queer eco horror story, told in gorgeous lyrical prose! it feels like a hazy green dream.
bogged down with the grief of her estranged father's passing, distantly aware of her wilting relationship with her girlfriend, and feeling disconnected from her mi'kmaq family, our protagonist, rita, embarks on an art retreat. an isolated pondside cabin seems the ideal place to work on her very green nature-themed paintings.
along with isolation, trauma, and the enormity of her loss and grief, the very depressed rita is reckoning with the passive welcoming of death, the quiet lack of desire to live.
i loved the descriptions of the swampy pond. the deep green muck, the crows cawing overhead, the rabbits fleeing down the waterside trail, the hot sun bearing down, the peeping of frogs and the silent growth of mushrooms. i also adore the lichen woman, a beautiful and dynamic moss monster of the swamp.
morris's writing is so lush and pretty, but there's something about it that feels impenetrable. this is such a compact novella, but it's oddly dense. it demands a slow reading pace.
a lovely afterword from the author discusses the themes of the book, the love of the wetlands and the grief of watching our natural world suffer as we rapidly destroy our planet.
bogged down with the grief of her estranged father's passing, distantly aware of her wilting relationship with her girlfriend, and feeling disconnected from her mi'kmaq family, our protagonist, rita, embarks on an art retreat. an isolated pondside cabin seems the ideal place to work on her very green nature-themed paintings.
along with isolation, trauma, and the enormity of her loss and grief, the very depressed rita is reckoning with the passive welcoming of death, the quiet lack of desire to live.
i loved the descriptions of the swampy pond. the deep green muck, the crows cawing overhead, the rabbits fleeing down the waterside trail, the hot sun bearing down, the peeping of frogs and the silent growth of mushrooms. i also adore the lichen woman, a beautiful and dynamic moss monster of the swamp.
morris's writing is so lush and pretty, but there's something about it that feels impenetrable. this is such a compact novella, but it's oddly dense. it demands a slow reading pace.
a lovely afterword from the author discusses the themes of the book, the love of the wetlands and the grief of watching our natural world suffer as we rapidly destroy our planet.
Wetlands are devalued for the same reason death and trauma are ignored: they are treated as marginal, incidental, unworthy of attention. We do not see the importance of holding space for pain or holding the literal space for the swamp even though both are life itself. Even though they help other areas of life thrive.
January 31, 2024
Content warnings: parental death, suicidal ideation, animal death/gore
This is a 6 star novella, a must read. The writing is exquisite, poetic, visceral and raw. Rita’s grief at the loss of both her father and her link to her Mi’kmaq heritage affects her personal and professional life as an artist. When her girlfriend signs her up for a residency grant to pursue her art in a remote cabin, Rita is convinced her muse is gone and isolating herself by a swamp will be a pointless endeavor. Visions real or imagined haunt Rita during her stay. Past traumas and regrets force her to reevaluate her life, her indigenous roots and her existence.
This is a powerful essay on mortality and our place in the great circle of life. It may sound depressing and I admit the story pulled me to revisit my own mother’s death and the impact that had on my life but it also affirms the natural process of all living things. Rita has not only lost her father but her grounding in her Mi’kmaq culture. Her connection with the ravens and creatures of the swamp, both flora and fauna help her deal with her grief in a new light.
I haven’t an artistic bone in my body but I can appreciate when an artist is able to portray raw emotions, heartbreak and grief in their work. Tiffany Morris is a true artist. So well done.
This is a 6 star novella, a must read. The writing is exquisite, poetic, visceral and raw. Rita’s grief at the loss of both her father and her link to her Mi’kmaq heritage affects her personal and professional life as an artist. When her girlfriend signs her up for a residency grant to pursue her art in a remote cabin, Rita is convinced her muse is gone and isolating herself by a swamp will be a pointless endeavor. Visions real or imagined haunt Rita during her stay. Past traumas and regrets force her to reevaluate her life, her indigenous roots and her existence.
This is a powerful essay on mortality and our place in the great circle of life. It may sound depressing and I admit the story pulled me to revisit my own mother’s death and the impact that had on my life but it also affirms the natural process of all living things. Rita has not only lost her father but her grounding in her Mi’kmaq culture. Her connection with the ravens and creatures of the swamp, both flora and fauna help her deal with her grief in a new light.
I haven’t an artistic bone in my body but I can appreciate when an artist is able to portray raw emotions, heartbreak and grief in their work. Tiffany Morris is a true artist. So well done.
September 4, 2024
Thanks to NetGalley and Stelliform Press for the advanced copy.
Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of Tiffany Morris and found Green Fuse Burning to be evocative and beautiful in a melancholy way. But.
For a short story I found this a real slog to get through. The mechanism of each section starting with an analysis of one of the paintings in Rita's new collection was neat, with each section relating to the story behind each painting. But Morris weighs the reader down with excessive contemplation in Rita's internal voice, which is the large majority of the book. The thoughts and ideas get weighed down in the purple prose, which is a shame because Green Fuse Burning could have been up there with Pet Sematary as one of the best horror stories about grief. I just don't think it quite reach its potential.
eta: this review keeps getting its stars removed for some reason?? I've had to add them back multiple times now...
Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of Tiffany Morris and found Green Fuse Burning to be evocative and beautiful in a melancholy way. But.
For a short story I found this a real slog to get through. The mechanism of each section starting with an analysis of one of the paintings in Rita's new collection was neat, with each section relating to the story behind each painting. But Morris weighs the reader down with excessive contemplation in Rita's internal voice, which is the large majority of the book. The thoughts and ideas get weighed down in the purple prose, which is a shame because Green Fuse Burning could have been up there with Pet Sematary as one of the best horror stories about grief. I just don't think it quite reach its potential.
eta: this review keeps getting its stars removed for some reason?? I've had to add them back multiple times now...
October 21, 2023
Rarely have I felt so strongly about a protagonist as I did about Rita.
On the one hand, this is due to the subject matter, because I haven't managed to love life either...
But on the other hand, it's due to the author's exceptionally good writing style, some paragraphs shot straight into my heart.
And somehow everything is a little easier now, almost as if I had been in that swamp too.
Swampcore, what a glorious thing that is.
Thank you for trusting me with this ARC - I love your novella 🖤
The cover is 🔥🔥🔥
On the one hand, this is due to the subject matter, because I haven't managed to love life either...
But on the other hand, it's due to the author's exceptionally good writing style, some paragraphs shot straight into my heart.
And somehow everything is a little easier now, almost as if I had been in that swamp too.
Swampcore, what a glorious thing that is.
Thank you for trusting me with this ARC - I love your novella 🖤
The cover is 🔥🔥🔥
November 15, 2025
I'm pleased with my new reading direction inspired by my Goodreads friends. The cover was a joy to me as I picked up this story. Verdant and compelling, the cover art often came to my mind's eye as I seeped into this story. I quite liked the structure, where each chapter served up an artistic analysis of one of the protagonist’s paintings, then led the reader into the life moments that formed the foundation and inspiration for the artwork.
The way for me to engage with this work was slow and contemplative, as it is dense in the sense that numerous life insights are packed into spare sentences. For those who have or know grieving, this story has the potential to be a companion, even if the particulars are different; perhaps the universal will show you you’re not alone. The passage about wishing she could have learned more from her father, to have had the time for him to pass down memories and knowledge of her culture and language, left a sense of tenderness. I share this desire to understand the history and people that ultimately shaped me.
For those who have encountered Death, there is a familiarity that is now with you for life. And this familiarity, perhaps like any other, eases one to accept the idea of dying again. The author, Tiffany Morris, writes with this familiarity in hand. To all my Goodreads friends, I raise a glass to you all, and here’s to the impermanence of life . . .
The way for me to engage with this work was slow and contemplative, as it is dense in the sense that numerous life insights are packed into spare sentences. For those who have or know grieving, this story has the potential to be a companion, even if the particulars are different; perhaps the universal will show you you’re not alone. The passage about wishing she could have learned more from her father, to have had the time for him to pass down memories and knowledge of her culture and language, left a sense of tenderness. I share this desire to understand the history and people that ultimately shaped me.
For those who have encountered Death, there is a familiarity that is now with you for life. And this familiarity, perhaps like any other, eases one to accept the idea of dying again. The author, Tiffany Morris, writes with this familiarity in hand. To all my Goodreads friends, I raise a glass to you all, and here’s to the impermanence of life . . .
March 28, 2024
"Grief formed her new reality, her new understanding of time, an invading force that occupied land and bodies in equal measure. Her memories were colonized by trauma."
Rating: 4.5/5 stars
I was completely blown away by the stunning prose and vivid imagery in this indie-debut, that desperately needs more recognition that it got! In this eco-horror novella with strong themes of queerness and grief, we follow a female artists who, struggling with a bout of artblock, is gifted a solo cabin-holiday by her girlfriend in hopes of sparking her creativity. Surrounded by the brackish waters of the lake and oppressive swamp-mists, Rita’s mind indeed begins to blossom with uncanny visions. Told alongside the descriptions of the series of painting created during her trip, we follow Rita’s journey in the natural bog, as well as the swampy depth of her own mind. Thematically, you can probably see why this is something I’d love… An exploration of grief over the loss of a parent, queerness, death and rebirth, all through a lens of natural beauty and terror. What makes this novella standout is its stunning language, that reads almost like an extended poem.
Full review in the making.
Rating: 4.5/5 stars
I was completely blown away by the stunning prose and vivid imagery in this indie-debut, that desperately needs more recognition that it got! In this eco-horror novella with strong themes of queerness and grief, we follow a female artists who, struggling with a bout of artblock, is gifted a solo cabin-holiday by her girlfriend in hopes of sparking her creativity. Surrounded by the brackish waters of the lake and oppressive swamp-mists, Rita’s mind indeed begins to blossom with uncanny visions. Told alongside the descriptions of the series of painting created during her trip, we follow Rita’s journey in the natural bog, as well as the swampy depth of her own mind. Thematically, you can probably see why this is something I’d love… An exploration of grief over the loss of a parent, queerness, death and rebirth, all through a lens of natural beauty and terror. What makes this novella standout is its stunning language, that reads almost like an extended poem.
Full review in the making.
March 30, 2025
"Life was like a language I couldn't speak."
+1 star, as this is a brilliant debut!
Queer, indigenous, horror novella that focuses on so many different themes of human and environmental trauma and blends them together with lush, dreamlike language into 'swampcore.' I must say I really empathized with the protagonist in this one. Thirty-three year old Rita goes to a cabin in the wetlands, her week-long artist's retreat grant obtained under sketchy circumstances by her equally sketchy girlfriend Molly. Rita is a lost soul - her relationship sucks, she is disconnected from her Mi'kmaq family, not even fluid in the language.
"'Miskeyi,'" she said. 'I only know a little bit of Mi'kmaq. I'm not fluent.'
The woman raised an eyebrow at her, scoffed, and walked away. Something about her own mute silence, her failure of language, and the departing silhouette crackling footprints over icy puddles broke something in her."
Her father's recent passing in the hospital from a long-term illness, her mother's hurtful avoidance of her daughter, all of these losses of familial and cultural connections leave Rita adrift and eventually, suicidal.
Each of the chapters begins with an art critic's description of the artwork that Rita produced during this week, each connected piece slowly revealing the horror and power of Rita's wetlands education. The real strength of this book, in my opinion, lies in the strength of its language, of Rita's words as she struggles to make sense of her thoughts and feelings. She bounces from rage to anger to despair to pain to hope and back to devastation so quickly.
"The night before she had dreamed of rabbits ablaze, phoenix-bright and jumping with fur on fire, railing ahs over the sleeping world below. The skeletal revenants of her memories."
I think my favorite elements in the book were Lichen-Woman with her two spore-like protuberances on the top of her head, and the descriptions of the suckerfish writing system, gomgwejui'gasit, that appear on the body of both Lichen-Woman and then later Rita.
In my quest to find out more about this indigenous culture, I spent a few hours reading and researching the Mi'kmaq at https://flatbayband.ca/fbb-wp/.
Kudos to the author!
+1 star, as this is a brilliant debut!
Queer, indigenous, horror novella that focuses on so many different themes of human and environmental trauma and blends them together with lush, dreamlike language into 'swampcore.' I must say I really empathized with the protagonist in this one. Thirty-three year old Rita goes to a cabin in the wetlands, her week-long artist's retreat grant obtained under sketchy circumstances by her equally sketchy girlfriend Molly. Rita is a lost soul - her relationship sucks, she is disconnected from her Mi'kmaq family, not even fluid in the language.
"'Miskeyi,'" she said. 'I only know a little bit of Mi'kmaq. I'm not fluent.'
The woman raised an eyebrow at her, scoffed, and walked away. Something about her own mute silence, her failure of language, and the departing silhouette crackling footprints over icy puddles broke something in her."
Her father's recent passing in the hospital from a long-term illness, her mother's hurtful avoidance of her daughter, all of these losses of familial and cultural connections leave Rita adrift and eventually, suicidal.
Each of the chapters begins with an art critic's description of the artwork that Rita produced during this week, each connected piece slowly revealing the horror and power of Rita's wetlands education. The real strength of this book, in my opinion, lies in the strength of its language, of Rita's words as she struggles to make sense of her thoughts and feelings. She bounces from rage to anger to despair to pain to hope and back to devastation so quickly.
"The night before she had dreamed of rabbits ablaze, phoenix-bright and jumping with fur on fire, railing ahs over the sleeping world below. The skeletal revenants of her memories."
I think my favorite elements in the book were Lichen-Woman with her two spore-like protuberances on the top of her head, and the descriptions of the suckerfish writing system, gomgwejui'gasit, that appear on the body of both Lichen-Woman and then later Rita.
In my quest to find out more about this indigenous culture, I spent a few hours reading and researching the Mi'kmaq at https://flatbayband.ca/fbb-wp/.
Kudos to the author!
September 1, 2023
INSTAGRAM | BLOG
🍄 A creepy, poetic exploration of grief and colonialism.
Thanks to NetGalley and Stelliform Press for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review!
“Green fuse burning” is a character-driven Indigenous horror novella from L’nu’skw writer Tiffany Morris. Described as “swampcore”, the story follows Rita’s stay at an isolated cabin in Mi'kmaq territory after winning an art residency application. There, reality and dreams begin to blur into a waking nightmare Rita isn’t sure she can (or wants to) escape.
This is a story primarily about grief. Rita struggles with the pain of losing her father, the scars of her relationship with her mother, her estrangement from her Indigenous legacy, the dying embers of her love life, the way that colonialism and capitalism damage our ecosystems, and her very relationship with life.
While the horror aspect of this story didn’t keep me up at night, it has some disturbing scenes and it did manage to give me a sense of dread as Rita tries to figure out what’s happening with her and the land her rental sits on. But the human aspect of Rita’s thoughts and worries was actually tougher for me.
This novella is broken down in chapters that pertain to each of the paintings Rita creates during her residency, which make for an interesting structure and a surprising ending. I think anyone who loves art will get a kick out of this!
I’d recommend it not necessarily as a horror story, but for anyone who enjoys speculative fiction that deals with ecogrief and an Indigenous perspective. (I also loved the author’s afterword!)
🍄 A creepy, poetic exploration of grief and colonialism.
Thanks to NetGalley and Stelliform Press for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review!
“Green fuse burning” is a character-driven Indigenous horror novella from L’nu’skw writer Tiffany Morris. Described as “swampcore”, the story follows Rita’s stay at an isolated cabin in Mi'kmaq territory after winning an art residency application. There, reality and dreams begin to blur into a waking nightmare Rita isn’t sure she can (or wants to) escape.
This is a story primarily about grief. Rita struggles with the pain of losing her father, the scars of her relationship with her mother, her estrangement from her Indigenous legacy, the dying embers of her love life, the way that colonialism and capitalism damage our ecosystems, and her very relationship with life.
While the horror aspect of this story didn’t keep me up at night, it has some disturbing scenes and it did manage to give me a sense of dread as Rita tries to figure out what’s happening with her and the land her rental sits on. But the human aspect of Rita’s thoughts and worries was actually tougher for me.
This novella is broken down in chapters that pertain to each of the paintings Rita creates during her residency, which make for an interesting structure and a surprising ending. I think anyone who loves art will get a kick out of this!
I’d recommend it not necessarily as a horror story, but for anyone who enjoys speculative fiction that deals with ecogrief and an Indigenous perspective. (I also loved the author’s afterword!)
October 4, 2023
Whoa! Well okay novella go off.
This little guy packed a PUNCH.
Rita is dealing with grief of losing her father, feeling disconnected to her Mi’kmaw roots and an abusive relationship with her mother all while her girlfriend forges an application for her to get a grant to spend time in an isolated creepy ass cabin to paint.
The prose was excellent. The tension of what was going to happen next was griping and all of the trauma Rita was dealing with was intense.
Great read.
Thanks to NetGalley and Stelliform Press for an eARC.
This little guy packed a PUNCH.
Rita is dealing with grief of losing her father, feeling disconnected to her Mi’kmaw roots and an abusive relationship with her mother all while her girlfriend forges an application for her to get a grant to spend time in an isolated creepy ass cabin to paint.
The prose was excellent. The tension of what was going to happen next was griping and all of the trauma Rita was dealing with was intense.
Great read.
Thanks to NetGalley and Stelliform Press for an eARC.
August 23, 2025
This one just isn’t working for me. I’ll confess I skimmed the last little bit as I didn’t want to DNF but was really struggling to engage. The complex, pretty prose didn’t keep my attention and made me feel like I was slogging through the wetlands being described. Covered in mud, tired, bug bitten, and overall unhappy to be there.
I feel really bad that I didn’t like Green Fuse Burning as I feel like I should have. It’s the kind of short story that has been written with precision and immaculate attention to word choice. With intense descriptions, metaphors, similes, and so much more. Tiffany Morris takes grief and puts words to the difficult concept in a way I’ve not seen before. The painting descriptions for each section or phase of the journey of grief is brilliantly done. I just couldn’t properly engage with the prose of each chapter.
Maybe if I read this at another time it would resonate more? Stories like Green Fuse Burning are written for certain moments in life I hope this one finds the people who need it. And perhaps in the future I can rediscover it at the right moment for me.
Please note: I received an eARC of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. This is an honest and unbiased review.
I feel really bad that I didn’t like Green Fuse Burning as I feel like I should have. It’s the kind of short story that has been written with precision and immaculate attention to word choice. With intense descriptions, metaphors, similes, and so much more. Tiffany Morris takes grief and puts words to the difficult concept in a way I’ve not seen before. The painting descriptions for each section or phase of the journey of grief is brilliantly done. I just couldn’t properly engage with the prose of each chapter.
Maybe if I read this at another time it would resonate more? Stories like Green Fuse Burning are written for certain moments in life I hope this one finds the people who need it. And perhaps in the future I can rediscover it at the right moment for me.
Please note: I received an eARC of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. This is an honest and unbiased review.
October 5, 2023
"Why did people need to be in nature to process the things that happened to them? Maybe it was because what was thought of as wild did not require a veil — it saw you as you truly were: an animal skulking among animals."
Green Fuse Burning is a poignant, slow-paced yet gripping novella that tackles grief/healing with a fresh perspective. Introducing every chapter with a critique/description of Rita's paintings accompanies with illustrations, Tiffany Morris uses art, nature, and an Indigenous angle that comments on how people generally react to death and people's expectations of her, especially in a world that still converges with colonialist views.
The prose is gorgeous and lyrical, and this is one of those novellas that heavily focuses on the atmosphere and setting. I love the way Morris intertwines nature and horror on a visceral yet subdued level, and the last introspective chapter that concludes Rita's realisation about her healing process and her idea of death are incredibly moving and cathartic to read.
Thank you BookSirens and Stelliform Press for the advance copy, I'm leaving this review voluntarily.
Green Fuse Burning is a poignant, slow-paced yet gripping novella that tackles grief/healing with a fresh perspective. Introducing every chapter with a critique/description of Rita's paintings accompanies with illustrations, Tiffany Morris uses art, nature, and an Indigenous angle that comments on how people generally react to death and people's expectations of her, especially in a world that still converges with colonialist views.
The prose is gorgeous and lyrical, and this is one of those novellas that heavily focuses on the atmosphere and setting. I love the way Morris intertwines nature and horror on a visceral yet subdued level, and the last introspective chapter that concludes Rita's realisation about her healing process and her idea of death are incredibly moving and cathartic to read.
Thank you BookSirens and Stelliform Press for the advance copy, I'm leaving this review voluntarily.
December 28, 2023
I'm not really sure what to think. While I liked some of the elements, nothing really happens in this story. It's about a woman with indigenous roots who deals with PTSD after losing their father. Which is a very common thing to experience, and it's also common to feel like a loss of heritage with the death of a pillar in ones life. Her girlfriend signs her up for an artist retreat in which she has multiple-mental breakdowns and creates some subpar artwork that only receives attention because she "disappeared" from the cabin.
*shrug*
The author tried to tie multiple themes here and I'm not really sure they succeeded. I would have liked a more polished story. Seemed like half the book was a fever dream cutting back and forth to the before and the now. It's a book for those looking to find hope of more life after a big loss of a family member. That is the biggest message I got out of this book.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
*shrug*
The author tried to tie multiple themes here and I'm not really sure they succeeded. I would have liked a more polished story. Seemed like half the book was a fever dream cutting back and forth to the before and the now. It's a book for those looking to find hope of more life after a big loss of a family member. That is the biggest message I got out of this book.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
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November 17, 2024A beautiful and atmospheric novella about alienation, reconciliation, working through trauma and grief, as well as self discovery through art and its creation.
February 18, 2025
This was weird and confusing. While the cover is amazing, the book itself just didn't do it for me. 2.5 ⭐ rounded up.
November 4, 2023
Beautifully written, with a dreamlike feel and odd shifts in pace and tone and character motivation that really work to bolster that-- and to convey an accurate sense of what it's like to be caught in an intense struggle with depression, grief, dissociation, paranoia, etc. I really like the horror trope of an artist consumed by a force of inspiration, transformed through their own work. It's great to read a book that incorporates and acknowledges and takes place against the backdrop of the climate crisis even without being directly/didactically *about* the climate crisis; often, it feels like fiction simply pretends the climate crisis doesn't exist or isn't a big deal unless that's the centerpiece of the narrative.
Personally, I didn't like the very last chapter much; I thought the themes and intended lessons of the book were eloquently conveyed through the story up to that point without the protagonist giving a speech that laid them out at the end, and I prefer even my life-affirming horror with ambiguous, bittersweet endings as opposed to straightforwardly optimistic ones. But I certainly understand the impulse, when writing this type of piece (trying to impart lessons/values, apparently deeply personal to the author and her own experiences), to both make sure your message cannot be missed or misinterpreted by even the worst reader, and give your much-tormented main character a clear shot at happiness.
I really liked the illustrations.
Personally, I didn't like the very last chapter much; I thought the themes and intended lessons of the book were eloquently conveyed through the story up to that point without the protagonist giving a speech that laid them out at the end, and I prefer even my life-affirming horror with ambiguous, bittersweet endings as opposed to straightforwardly optimistic ones. But I certainly understand the impulse, when writing this type of piece (trying to impart lessons/values, apparently deeply personal to the author and her own experiences), to both make sure your message cannot be missed or misinterpreted by even the worst reader, and give your much-tormented main character a clear shot at happiness.
I really liked the illustrations.
November 2, 2024
I found out after finishing Green Fuse Burning that Tiffany Morris is a poet, and that makes perfect sense. This is exactly the kind of horror story I would expect from a poet: beautiful, off-putting, and thoughtful. It’s the kind of book that would benefit from reading slowly, so don’t let the page count fool you: this is one you should let linger. I’ll definitely pick up any other horror that Tiffany Morris writes—I just won’t read it while sleep deprived next time.
Full review at the Lesbrary.
Full review at the Lesbrary.
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