Essential Reading for Queer Horror-Lovers to Sink Their Teeth Into

A Review of It Came from the Closet

When I first saw this pink hand emerging from the grave cross my Twitter feed, I knew I had to get my hands on a copy of this essay collection. And I’m here to tell you I was right to do so, and you should do the same.

It Came From the Closet, edited by Joe Vallese, is a non-fiction collection of 25 personal essays written by contemporary queer and trans writers who have some connection to the world of horror. Whether they have a family memory tethered to the genre, have experienced a recent film in theatres, or hold an intimate personal connection to a movie, somehow the genre has become a part of them and their experiences as a queer person on this planet. Thankfully, these writers have shared these pieces of themselves with the page, and in turn, us as readers. Now we can see how those pieces fit into our lives as horror-lovers and as queer people.

“It Came From the Closet” edited by Joe Vallese, now available from Feminist Press. $25.95 USD. The cover features a gray tombstone with the title in black, surrounded by bright green grass. A pink hand with a limp wrist rises out of the grass. Behind the tombstone is a rainbow. Edited by Joe Vallese in small pink lettering is at the bottom left.

So, you may be thinking “Why is this collection of essays so special? Why should I read this?” Or, maybe you’re not. (But, I doubt that since you’re reading this review.) Either way, here’s the answer: there is so much tenderness, vulnerability, and exploration within these pages, and so much to uncover about new lenses of where queerness can be contained in the world of horror, intentional or not.

Each essay in It Came From the Closet holds something new, a new glimmering, a new elemental thing to come to terms with or unearth in your own life as a queer person or the lives of your beloveds. It’s astounding thing to behold, really. 25 new perspectives to cleave to and carry with you is no small feat, so let’s explore some of them together briefly and get a taste of what to expect:

In Both Ways, Carmen Maria Machado focuses on the film Jennifer’s Body and explores the raw, deep-seated queerness of the film from start to finish. Imprint by editor Joe Vallese is an intensive and vulnerable journey through queer family building, surrogacy, and the sacrifices made in the 2009 horror film Grace. Sumiko Saulson explores the world of Candyman — the 1992 classic and the 2021 release from director Nia DaCosta — and moves through the nuance of viewers’ noticing in the films as it relates to backgrounds, experiences, cultural histories, and more. Addie Tsai navigates the inherent queerness of being a twin, and the strange correlations and parallels in twin experience through the film Dead Ringers in their essay Twin/Skin. And no contemporary horror collection would be complete without a voyage through the masterful work of Jordan Peele — in their essay The Me in the Screen, Steffan Triplett examines sexual freedom, misinterpretation, and multiple versions of the self through the film Us.

These are just five examples of the numerous thought-provoking and visceral essays that I absolutely love. As a queer, nonbinary poet who writes about the world through a pop-horror lens to navigate trauma and family, I knew I would love this collection. As a person married to a horror movie lover, I knew I would love it.

As a general reader, I had a feeling I’d love these essays, but I’m telling you now: this is a must read. You’ll leave the collection noticing and knowing so much more — about the horror films you know and love, about the nuances of queerness whether intentional or not, and about the lived experience of 25 astounding contemporary writers.