Horror is a genre both divisive and varied. Those who adore it often do so for the same reasons others dislike it — the discomfort it invokes. Oftentimes, horror holds a mirror to our face and asks us if the distorted, agonized features of the victim and/or the monster match our own; it bids us to look our fears in the eyes, or pulls new fears out of us, casting a sudden awareness over us of our mortality, our complicity, our inherent weaknesses and our morbid fascinations.
For that reason, horror can be found in anything and everything. That’s why I love to narrow down my preferred genres, though I try to dip my toes in anywhere I can. One particular genre I enjoy is body horror; I was well aware of the genre and what it embodied before stepping into Sam Logan’s body horror seminar here at OSU, one of the honors colloquia I was blessedly able to take this term. Through his class, I had the chance to enjoy his writing while he helped foster the class’s own horror works, and I wanted to take a chance to place a spotlight on his work, body horror and indie horror in general, as well as make some recommendations if you’re looking for a place to start reading indie horror!
To acquire a better understanding of body horror, I’ll turn to some creators and voices that help define the genre and all it can do, and provide some iconic examples most of you may know — as well as some personal less-iconic highlights I adore.
What is Body Horror?
Body horror is your body betraying you, your body transforming against or past your will. It is your body being tampered with in a way that is discomforting and terrifying. Body horror can also be a very everyday thing to a lot of people.
The term was coined by Philip Brophy in his article “Horrality—The Textuality of Contemporary Horror,” and describes it as a horror that is derived from a perceived “wrongness” with the body. This wrongness can often connect to physical transformation, mutation, degeneration, unnatural births, and the violation of the body by disease, parasites or other organisms. Some easy examples from pop culture: “The Fly,” a science-fiction horror featuring an eccentric scientist named Seth Brundle mutating into a man-fly creature due to his own experimentation with teleportation; “The Human Centipede,” an independent body horror film about a deranged German surgeon who kidnaps and conjoins three tourists anus-to-mouth to create the titular human centipede; “The Blob” and all its remakes, which feature a — well, a blob of people melded together into an oozing monster, all kick-started by an amoeba of sorts from outer space; and finally, “Rosemary’s Baby,” which depicts Rosemary’s stolen autonomy and forced pregnancy with the Antichrist. All of these have something in common, and that is the violation or mutation of the body by a force that its victims struggle against and often fail to stop.
Of course, there are many more iconic films and media that depict body horror. Literature like Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” or Franz Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis” are classics that certainly deal with body horror, specifically the transformation of bodies. But why body horror? Why this fascination with the defilement of the human body and its sacred structure?
I think a lot of us feel a loss of control over ourselves — our bodies — due to outside forces, or our own bodies “betraying us.” Like with all sorts of horror fiction, you find that these movies and books offer you a place to engage with these horrors, but in a controlled environment. You can shut the book or turn off the movie. A director I deeply admire, Mike Flanagan, once said that watching horror was a little burst of “exercise in courage” for him as an easily scared child. He said if he could make it through a scary movie, if he could carry a fraction of it out into real life, then watching horror had helped him grow. This is why I’ve latched onto body horror. Ultimately, we will all “transform” unwillingly, due to age, illness or sudden injury. Our bodies, which we often perceive as our entirety, can fail us so easily, and this genre is all about becoming a little braver in the face of that.
This realization about the impermanence of our bodies really hits home, as of recently. I personally experienced sudden bouts of brain fog due to repeated infections of COVID-19, which decimated my cognitive abilities. What I could have gotten done in 15 minutes in the past could take me an hour some days. I was horrified. My ability to write, to communicate what I felt had been stolen from me, and the constant fuzzy pressure at the front of my head was haunting me, even in my happiest moments. I was someone who prided themselves on their cognitive abilities over everything. Of all my body, my brain was what I considered my most valuable asset, and it was practically disintegrating inside my skull. All hyperbole, of course, but the fear I felt about possibly having to live with this for years … I still struggle with it.
This ties into another aspect of body horror — and much of horror as a genre — that I think people tend to skim over in a lot of popular horror: transformation or violation as allegory and symbolism. I personally interpreted a lot of Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis” as symbolic of sudden physical disability, and some other people I know see it more so as depression, or even Alzheimer’s or dementia. The way Gregor’s body changes and the reactions of his family, their horror towards not only his changing form, but how he can’t earn money for their family anymore — not to mention their shift towards physically and verbally abusing him. It was hard to read, because I could so easily see how it could parallel real-life situations — your caretakers turning against you.
Of course, I’ve spent a lot of time moping about how sad and depressing body horror can be, as those tend to be my preferences in media. But body horror can also be empowering! The fact your body is something you can’t control means you don’t have to meld yourself to the societal constraints placed around you. You can break from what is expected of you! One iconic body horror film, “Teeth,” focuses on a woman who discovers she had vagina dentata (vaginal teeth) while she is assaulted by a man. Initially, she feels shame and fear over this fact, but she eventually uses it to punish the men who continuously attempt to abuse her. She gains power through this supposed mutation, a way to protect herself from the entitlement of the men in her life, as these teeth do not bite when she is having enjoyable, consensual sex. In a lot of people’s eyes, this mutation might just be a benefit to her.
Horror as a whole can also be incredibly funny, body horror being no exception! Someone being injured or having involuntary bodily reactions can be both amusing and discomforting at the same time: There’s a reason why slasher movies and other splatter media often build a fanbase from the absurdity and creativity that goes into the killing of its characters, as disturbing as that may sound. But I think everyone has seen a video of something ridiculously horrible happening to someone, leaving the absurdity and chance of it all to manifest in the most natural way: humor. It’s the dark comedy in films — such as “Re-Animator,” that manifests from Dr. Hill’s detached head as he carries it around, or “Society” with its final “shunting” moment to the very end of the film (Bill pulling Ferguson inside-out, distorting his face comically) — where a person can be a crucial part of the genre. Not to mention the fun that can be found in the practical effects of these sort of horror films — how do they manage to get Frank in “Hellraiser” to look so goopy? Why does that goop never seep through his buttoned-up shirt? The absurdity of it all can be quite enjoyable!
Ultimately, my point is to differentiate body horror through its focus on the mutation, mutilation, transformation and eventual transcendence from the physical body. A lot of body horror connects to ideas of that transcendence from the corporeal form and escaping the limitations of the human body, for better or worse. My personal favorite example of this is a short story called “Home,” by Farren Adler from the first edition of SLUG, the previous works of the students of the body horror seminar. The way the narrator’s insecurities with their place in the world fade away as their body becomes less and less theirs, reshaped by something else, is exactly what makes body horror so compelling. But this genre is vast and vague to define sometimes, able to take a variety of tones and send many messages. It may take some exploring to decide where your preferences lie.
Indie Horror and My Fascination with Short Stories
As a writer, I’ve always felt more drawn to short stories as a form of storytelling. Maybe because I was forced to connect with a character or scenario immediately. Maybe because they were quicker to read, but increasingly impactful to my tastes in media. Maybe because I liked the variety of stories told. Of course, short stories are not everyone’s cup of tea — most of the readers I know prefer long-form media they can really sink their teeth into. But, to advocate for short fiction, I think you’ll find a lot of beginner writers start there, and you could find your new favorite indie author if you spend some time hunting for them. Hey, maybe your current favorite author started out in indie publishing, and you didn’t even know!
Indie is a word with a lot of meanings, depending on what media you’re discussing, but in the case of writing, there can be a lot of confusion. Simply put, indie (independent) writers are authors who don’t have any help from an established press, which usually means self-publishing. The reason many authors choose to go indie is because traditional publishing can be hard to break into and still tends to be a little conservative. You can imagine horror isn’t the easiest to market to the general public, but especially if it’s doing something avant-garde and unacceptable to most readers. Also, these authors could be aiming for a very niche audience and might struggle to cultivate that audience under a larger publisher that doesn’t cater to that niche audience. Self-publishing, when done effectively and with a strong marketing strategy might be more profitable for some authors than traditional publishing would be — and more creatively fulfilling too!
There are also independent presses as publishers, which are where I tend to flock to for finding my fix of horror stories: For presses that specialize in horror, Tenebrous Press or Ghoulish Books are a good bet. These independent presses are typically publishers who are not part of a large conglomerate or corporation and choose what they wish to publish. They often rely on specializations in certain genres, and as they are unlikely to become as profitable as larger publishing houses, the focus often remains to get niche literature to the smaller audience looking for it. Because they are focused on these niches, it’s much easier to find fiction I know I’ll enjoy through these types of presses. It’s actually how I got my start in reading short horror stories.
I think the first horror short story to catch my eye and drag me into the genre was Carmen Maria Machado’s “There and Back Again” in Nightmare magazine in 2020, though the story was originally published in “Mixed Up: Cocktail Recipes (and Flash Fiction) for the Discerning Drinker (and Reader).” I was reading it initially for a class, but something in me was awakened. Just its opening lines managed to hook me: “My mother used to love the corpse reviver. She called it the perfect cocktail.”
The entire story is eloquent and mysterious, dripping with color, blood and hints of viscera you could only catch out of the corner of your eye — everything hidden from view only made the story more enticing for me. I happily drowned over and over again in the liquor and atmosphere of the story as I tried to decipher why I couldn’t stop thinking of it. So little is explained — there’s no similar satisfying narrative arc you can predict and follow over and over again prevalent in so much of the fiction that’s advertised to you. It’s so brief, swallowed and gone. But every word is soaked in flavor and intention; my body would tense up with every paragraph, and I wanted to crawl into the story itself and dissolve inside it. Not only that, but despite its brevity, I saw myself inside that story. In that brief encounter with the protagonist, I clung like her to her mother, and I saw myself in her as she navigated through survival alone, struggling to find any deeper connection to the humans she encounters. I saw myself in the monster of this story.
After this initial encounter, it was like a switch was flipped. I started throwing myself into horror at every chance I got, specifically hunting for that same sensation. Now, let me be quite clear, I am not a brave person. Jump scares, or what I used to call cheap scares, get me every time. Of course, I do actually find jump scares to be quite an art form these days: It’s all about editing, really. But, back to the main point, I’m not an insensitive person. I get scared quickly and freeze up constantly, especially with movies or games. While I can be low-empathy, that doesn’t mean I don’t get attached or don’t care if a character suffers — in fact, I might find it easier to latch onto and care for a character than a real person. I’m easily frightened, and I don’t find any pleasure in seeing a character suffer excessively, so not all horror appeals to me. But as I continued to explore, I found a lot more depth in the horror I was enjoying. I kept wanting more.
A Spotlight on Sam Logan
Now, Sam Logan may be my instructor, but I’m speaking with true sincerity throughout this section when I say anything about his work. I think he has a real eye not only for splatter and gore, but subtler strange transformations. A lot of his work remains grounded in a sense of reality, like “Dead Blow Hammer,” but the mental transformation of his characters through the pain and discomfort of their own bodies is quite visceral to me. His imagery is easy to grasp in my mind’s eye, and I can tell he really loves the writing he does with the care that goes into his final drafts.
To kick it off, I think my favorite short story of his so far remains “They All Must Go.” The full body shudder I felt on my first read through was such a delight! I heard a live reading of this story during his release party for his novelette “The Night Demon,” and my reaction was just as intense, if not more, despite knowing exactly how the story would go. In less than 500 words, Sam Logan immerses you in the disturbed mind of his narrator and shakes your mentality with the actions they take to rid themselves of their mental anguish. I don’t want to spoil anything for someone who hasn’t read it, because it is free to download and read for yourself in the first issue of “Mouthfeel Fiction” on itch.io, so all I can say is prepare yourself for the sensations to come!
A story that feels a bit more muted on the mutilation but just as disturbing is his other short body horror piece, “Water Loss,” published to the Wallstrait literary journal and also a relatively brief read — less than 500 words again. However, the setting and character he creates in such a brief moment disturbed me deeply. Small details of the character’s worldview leak through the narration, drip-feeding us a character that we know we probably would never like but still pity. The horror at his eventual fate was built upon an unsettled sadness for his lonely existence. Sam Logan built this up beautifully, and I think it remains as one of his standout pieces.
I also have to applaud Professor Logan for setting this seminar up in the first place — it is the exact sort of class I believe all honors colloquia should be, a place to reflect, expand our views and experiences, and produce something unique and interesting outside of our fields or current interests. I learned a lot about writing to be published, editing and creating connections in the independent authors’ world. His background isn’t a literary one, but I believe that only makes his class more valuable — it was an entirely different experience to the other writing courses I’ve taken, because it all felt like we were all learning together and with each other instead of being taught. He prioritized discussion and kept us communicating with each other. It was amazing seeing people who already loved body horror or were being challenged to understand it all work together to create an anthology of works to share with the world. If you are at all eligible to take this honors colloquium, I highly recommend it with the utmost sincerity. I wish genre fiction of all kinds was taught more often in classes for all students, not just in honors colloquia — especially since many writers attending university might have a preference for such genres.
The Variety That is Out There — How to Get into Indie Horror:
Indie horror comes in all forms, not just the short stories I discussed. However, if you are looking for somewhere to start, I recommend starting in these places, just to learn what’s out there!
Independent presses: This is a great place to start for curious readers who want to get a taste of niche fiction like body horror! Some great places to start for horror would be Tenebrous Press, Ghoulish Books, Shortwave Publishing, Weirdpunk Books and Filthy Loot. Tenebrous, Ghoulish and Weirdpunk are all very horror centered, while Shortwave has a focus on dark speculative fiction as a whole, and Filthy Loot describes itself as focusing on “misfit fiction.” If the names don’t already pique your attention, I’ll point out some of the awesome things and titles published under these presses (in previously established order), see if any of these catch your eye: “TRVE CULT: A Tenebrous Gamebook” — a choose-your-own-adventure black-metal story with cults and blasphemy; “Decrepit Ritual” — a second person narrative with a mysterious VHS tape and Lovecraftian horrors; “Stay on the Line: A Novelette” — a coastal town is devastated by a hurricane, an out-of-service payphone, and a mixture of horror and grief; “Sabbath of the Fox-Devils” — a splatterpunk story of self-liberation and coming-of-age set during the Satanic Panic; and finally, “Dirt in the Sky” — an anthology of transgressive, elevated and social horror about the human condition.
Indie Bookstores: While locating these stores near you can be difficult, I’ll offer some places in Oregon that you might be able to visit. For example, Books Around the Corner in Portland specializes in genre fiction like horror, mystery, sci-fi and more, with a wonderful atmosphere. We also have our old reliable friend, The Book Bin, located both in Salem and Corvallis, which definitely has a focus on genre fiction like fantasy, sci-fi and horror. Both locations are quite different, so I suggest visiting both if you ever have a chance! Giving independent bookstores a chance is always a great idea, as their selections are often vibrant and unique.
Film: I’m not as experienced in this area, but lots of enthusiastic horror enjoyers make great lists of independent horror films on sites like Letterboxd, and I highly recommend following horror blogs to be updated on horror news and new developments! For instance, Horror Obsessive is an independent project/blog with a variety of writers who write about what is new or interesting to them in the field of horror; I find myself coming back to this site often, and similar sites as well, to get a better idea of what I’m missing out on. Overall, finding places where you can listen to fans of the genre talk can really help you find great starting spots, or learn more about their tastes.
Itch.io: If you want to get into indie horror games, I have to recommend itch.io. A lot of the games on this site are on the shorter side, experimental and give you a taste of what lies outside of the polished AAA gaming sphere. You can find so many awesome indie developers like this, but I do have to say, it is very much an “anyone can publish anything” type of site. Overall, the quality varies — and that adds to the charm in my opinion — but if you want some places to start, I’ll mention a few games on itch.io that you could give a shot: “Water Womb World” by Yames has highly-stylized, atmospheric writing, eerie throughout, and is a very brief experience that stays with you long after playing. I’d also recommend “Greener Grass Awaits” for a strange horror-golfing experience with low-poly graphics and a slow change in vibes and mechanics that really make the horror set in. You also could browse Steam, follow some gaming blogs, and there are absolutely so many gaming channels on YouTube which have built a following off playing horror games specifically — channels like ManlyBadassHero are well known for playing almost any horror game under the sun! Just browsing their videos, you could definitely stumble upon an interesting horror experience to play for yourself.
My Personal Recommendations/Taste:
This is less so a comprehensive list, but just some examples based on my personal enjoyment or the people-I-know’s enjoyment!
Body Horror — these aren’t all centered on body horror explicitly or intentionally by the creators but feature it heavily:
— “Home” (short story written by Farren Adler): Like I mentioned, this short story is in the first edition of SLUG published by OSU Body Horror students. The corporal transcendence of body horror is real in this one … If you love horror with bugs and struggle with the weight of your existence in a capitalist world, this is a great read! There isn’t a PDF online, but if you email [email protected], you can acquire any published edition of SLUG at no cost!
— “Fear & Hunger” (video game developed by Miro Haverinen): An intense, disturbing pixelated dungeon crawler, heavy on atmosphere and inventory management. Fair warning — the game itself may not feel fair, and the game pulls no punches in setting the tone of its world. Make sure to check for a list of trigger warnings before entering this game’s world to discover the mysteries in the dungeons of “Fear & Hunger.”
— “Why We Keep Exploding” (short story written by Hailey Piper): published within the “YOUR BODY IS NOT YOUR BODY” anthology, it is one of the most gripping, feminist body horror stories I’ve read in a while. If you’re looking for feminist-trans-body horror, this is my number one recommendation, due to its tense atmosphere, gripping narration and unique concept — what if men could explode women with their words?
— “Progeny” (short film by Justin Daering): This short film introduced me to the variety of short horror films you could find on YouTube and locked itself into my mind for its sharp storytelling. A blue-collar worker is assaulted by his alien boss and implanted with his parasitic offspring, and has to struggle with the social horror of being a survivor of assault in a world where the social order refuses to let you speak out. I will offer a trigger warning for any SA survivors reading this, as the content matter is directly meant to parallel such real-world experiences.
— “Mouthwashing” (video game Developed by Wrong Organ): While I haven’t played this game myself, every friend of mine has mentioned it as a modern classic in horror, and I feel obligated to give it its laurels! There’s a lot to unpack about the body horror in this game, especially coming from a disability lens. Its story is deeply concerned with autonomy, both how it is stolen from us and how it can be (sometimes drastically) reclaimed.
— “The Enigma of Amigara Fault” (manga drawn by Junji Ito): A classic from the master of horror manga, this one-shot originally published inside the hardcover of his other manga “Gyo” is transcendent, building dread and atmosphere through an ethereal yet unsettling art style, and searing itself into your memory with its very last panel. The mystery of the phenomena drawing everyone to this fault hooks the reader in the moment and pulls you along until the very end.
— “Fire Punch” (manga drawn by Tatsuki Fujimoto): Have you heard of “Chainsaw Man”? Same author, and perhaps an even more out-there story! The body horror is real in this one, with everything screwed-up under the sun you can imagine in a manga about a guy who is permanently on fire and in pain.
— “Fiancée” (short film by Sun Lee and VIVINOS): This animated retelling of “The Little Mermaid” with a toxic queer twist to it was what first got me into VIVINOS’s queer horror. Easily watchable on YouTube, the stunning animation and art style, paired with ethereal piano music by ko.yo, is tragic and painful to the end and never fails to send shivers down my spine.
Indie Horror in General — These are independent projects that I think are great representations of the variety indie horror can appear as and center around:
— “Slay the Princess” (video game developed by Black Tabby Games): a game about exactly what is written in the title — and much more. In this game, you’re thrown into the woods and told by the narrator that you have to kill the princess. From there, you are given a highly interactive existentialist horror game with fully-voiced aspects of the self, branching paths, gore and a love story at the center of it all.
— “Lacey Games” (YouTube series by ghosttundra): This YouTube series plays with our memories of old online games sites, like GirlsGoGames, that characterized the earlier internet. A fictionalized narrator, Charchar887 documents her experiences going back and replaying all the fictional “Lacey Games” developed by Rocío Yani and Grace Asop, discovering all the disturbing aspects of these games that led to backlash against the developers. These videos really feel like a retrospective on a strange, older game series you could find anywhere on YouTube and are incredibly immersive for this reason.
— “Who’s Lila?” (video game developed by Garage Heathen): Described as a reverse-detective adventure, this game contains a disturbing story you can explore fully in around five hours and is stylized in a unique mix of crunchy graphics and realism with a very interesting mechanic — you have to control your main character’s expressions. The plot centers around finding a missing girl — beyond that, I don’t want to spoil it!
— “A List of People Who Went Missing in The Scheleirland National Forest” (a visual novel developed by F.SDRI): This VN with hand-drawn, inkblot-esque graphics that remind one of a Rorschach test has branching paths where action and inaction matter, leading to a slow, literary descent into amalgamations and warped features, and centers a woman living alone by the woods. There is almost no one else left.
— “Faith: The Unholy Trinity” (video game developed by Airdorf): This trilogy of 8-bit pixel-horror games centered on a priest who is trying to fix his past failings. You fight against demons, cultists and your weakening faith, all inspired by the “Satanic Scare” of the 1980’s. This game’s sound design is sharp, its 8-bit style leaves so much to the imagination, and the rotoscoped cutscenes are fluid and frightening. Each game has its own ending, one being “canonical,” allowing you to explore the hidden aspects of this game’s world.
— “My Little Goat” (animated short film by Tomoki Misato): Misato’s master’s graduation short film is one of my favorite pieces of stop-motion animation ever. Available on YouTube, the film is eerie, whimsical, tragic and hopeful all at once, seemingly a unique interpretation of part of “Red Riding Hood.” I will offer a trigger warning for CSA, as the film has none.
