By Lyndall Clipstone
Horror stories were my queer awakening.
Growing up in rural Australia in the 1990s, the frame of reference I had for my bisexuality was minimal at best. I knew I liked boys. But there were girls—so many girls—who elicited such confusing feelings in me. Did I want to be them, or just want them?
No one talked about being queer unless it was in the form of crude jokes. I wasn’t self-aware, or brave enough, to parse out my feelings. When I discovered female-centric horror, I felt as though a mirror had been held up to me: albeit a strange, dark-glassed one which showed a distorted, half-blurred reflection.
Queer expression has been part of horror since its inception. As a genre that disrupts the boundaries of the real world, horror provides a space where “actual terrors” take on “monstrous forms.” As Lucy Holmes writes in Queerness and Horrors, “So many of us related to the monsters of the horror world because at one point of another we too have felt ostracized… simply for existing.”
My experience of queerness was one of being remade, of exploring the liminal space of identity, and forging my own place within the borders of the status quo. And I was drawn to horror because it creates a world where all boundaries are disrupted—through hauntings, violence, bloodshed, or the supernatural. A world where societal norms are broken down and remade, and where anything is possible.
And so it was horror stories, where the borders were disrupted by monsters, the supernatural, and violence, where I first began to make sense of my own identity. While much of the formative horror I consumed as a teen—including Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, Stephen King’s It,and Poppy Z. Brite’s Lost Souls—was focused on male characters, the most impactful experiences for me personally were horror that centered on the experience of girlhood.
@lkclipstone Presenting: the stunning UK cover of TENDERLY, I AM DEVOURED 🦢🌊🎀 I am utterly in love with this moody, swoony artwork by Bastien Deharme, who has captured the romantic atmosphere of the story so perfectly 🤍 Releasing with @Hot Key Books on July 1st, 2025, inside this beautiful book you will find: 🦢 Childhood heartbreak to lovers 🌊 Dark academia vibes that pull you under 🦢 A m/f/f poly romance that’s both sweet and tangled 🌊 Family secrets, haunted legacies 🦢 A kissable swan god 🌊 Flower-threaded horror There will be gold foil on the cover! And inside… a map of Verse, the isolated seaside town where the story takes place. I truly cannot wait 🥹🤍 You can prèorder now from your favourite UK bookstore (there are also línks in my bío) — save your receipts because I have something v special to share soon! #tenderlyiamdevoured #romantasybooks #booktok #covereveal #darkacademiabooks ♬ Enya-style romantic fantasy waltz original – Yukari Okano
There was Picnic at Hanging Rock, especially Peter Weir’s 1975 film adaptation where the yearning for sylphlike Miranda by her classmate Edith was so palpable that it made me ache. The haunting mystery of white-clad teen girls vanishing into the Australian landscape (familiar enough to have been my own rural back yard) combined with the undertones of sapphic longing felt like a mirror held up to my own girlhood emotions.
And then there was Heavenly Creatures by Peter Jackson, where the romantic tension between Juliet and Pauline saw them create their own, secretive imaginary world which—for all its toxicity—was something I, as an unmoored queer teen, desperately craved.
All this is to say: queer horror is close to my heart. In my upcoming romantic folk horror, Tenderly, I am Devoured, the central character, Lacrimosa Arriscane, is desperate to be loved. Returned home from her elite boarding school following a violent incident, we gradually learn about her destructive friendship with Damson Sinclair, a fellow student who Lark both “wants to be, and just wants” and whose toxic demands for affection will shatter Lark’s entire world.
Discovering her family on the point of financial ruin, Lark agrees to a marriage of convenience with Therion—the chthonic swan god worshipped by her isolated hometown. But when this betrothal goes wrong, and Lark is forced to elicit the help of her arrogant neighbor Alastair Felimath and his alluring sister, Camille, the subsequent romance between her and the siblings becomes a path to healing.
There are myriad reasons why I chose to depict a bisexual, polyamorous romance at the heart of my horror story. As a writer, I have always strived to include organically queer storylines, for the readers who may see themselves in my characters. The depiction of the queer romance in Tenderly, I am Devoured felt right—both for the story itself, and to honour the romances I found solace in during my own teen reading.
But it’s also a way for Lark to heal, to show that being loved unconditionally is possible, that even after making so many “wrong” choices and losing her hopes for a bright academic future, she is still worthwhile—as a sister, as a friend, as a beloved, as a human. And I hope that this book will provide a sense of being seen, and emotional understanding, to teen and young adult readers in the way that horror did for me at a time when I desperately needed it.
Some recommendations I have for excellent girlhood, queerness and horror books are:
The Thorns by Dawn Kurtagich
Hollow by Taylor Grothe
Extasia by Claire Legrand
House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson
Chlorine by Jade Song
Lyndall Clipstone writes dark tales of flower-threaded horror. A former youth librarian who grew up running wild in the Barossa Ranges of South Australia, she currently lives in Adelaide, in a hundred-year-old cottage with her partner, two children, and a shy black cat. Her debut novel, “Lakesedge,” was a Dymocks, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble bestseller, nominated for the 2021 Book Shimmy Awards, and selected as one of Better Reading’s 2022 top 50 kids’ books. “Unholy Terrors” was featured in Teen Vogue, and chosen as a Kids’ Indie Next Pick for Nov/Dec 2023. Her works have been published in over four territories, including multiple translations. Learn more about Lyndall and her writing at her website, follow her on Instagram and TikTok, and subscribe to her Substack.
ABOUT THE BOOK: Expelled from her prestigious boarding school following a violent incident, eighteen-year-old Lacrimosa “Lark” Arriscane returns home in disgrace to discover her family on the point of financial ruin. Desperate to save them, she accepts a marriage of convenience…to Therion, the chthonic god worshiped by Lark’s isolated coastal hometown. But when her betrothal goes horribly wrong, Lark begins to vanish from the mortal realm. Her only hope is to seek help from Alastair Felimath: the brilliant, arrogant boy who was her first heartbreak, and his alluring older sister, Camille. As the trio delves into the folklore of gods, Lark falls under the spell of the Felimath siblings. Ensnared by a fervent romance, they perform a bacchanalia with hopes the hedonistic ritual will repair the connection between Lark and her bridegroom. Instead, they draw the ire of something much darker, which seeks to destroy Therion—and Lark as well.
