#she's always hungry
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jetwhenitsmidnight · 17 days ago
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She's Always Hungry: Stories by Eliza Clark
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Release date: 12 November 2024
Genre: adult horror/weird fiction short story collection
Synopsis
Moving from California to Newcastle, from Frontier-era America to an unexplored planet in the near future, from a pub down the road to an incel-occupied office IT department, She’s Always Hungry revels in every aspect of being human.
Unsettling, revelatory, and laced with her signature dark humor, Eliza Clark's debut short story collection plumbs the depths of that most basic human feeling: hunger.
Review
Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC!
These stories range from straightforward to weird to weirder.
Usually, I find that short story collections will inevitably have a few duds, but I enjoyed everything in this collection.
A lot of these stories are written in a darkly humorous tone, which threw me off initially, but it really grew on me. I love the contrast between the tone and the contents of the stories.
My favourites were the scifi horror stories Hollow Bones and Extinction Event. After reading these I went to double check if the author had written any full length scifi books because these were soo good. Like, these aren't groundbreaking, but the author introduces them in a way that makes it easy to quickly grasp, and she creates an atmosphere that is truly chilling.
I have to mention Shake Well, which legit gave me the creeps. It's like sort of mundane and also sort of horrifying, with the body horror in this being the most unnerving to me from this collection, possibly because it hits a little closer to home.
I am also obsessed with The King, which is an absurd genderbent incel power fantasy. I think people might hate this story, but the absurdity of it, plus the writing style, was so ridiculously entertaining. I also liked the cannibalism and gore.
There's a content guide at the back of my eARC, which is much appreciated, as some of these stories can be quite dark/gory, and the content guide covers the necessary warnings in detail.
Overall, the writing is engaging and accessible, and there's something for everyone. I will definitely check out the author's other works.
Content Guide
These are screenshots from the content guide, which covers the content warnings for each story in depth.
Some of them are spoilery, but if you need to be warnings for certain topics, especially for body image issues, eating disorders, sexual assault, or gore/body horror, I would advise checking the guide.
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lilibetbombshell · 15 days ago
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months ago
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All he knows is flirt with men and lie.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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skeletonpendeja · 4 months ago
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Fuck dude I made a burger that tastes like sex
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awaywithself · 5 days ago
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after a real argument, a true misunderstanding that lacked the theatrical yelling and the kicking and slashing that often characterized their play fights, zoro and sanji leave to simmer in solitude. it’s easy to forget their anger, easier to forgive each other- harder to forgive themselves.
they’re both self-sacrificing and so self-critical, they’re disappointed and angry at themselves for the things they said, the way they behaved, the love they felt but failed to show. zoro makes his own food, feeling bad about desecrating sanji’s space but knowing he’d feel worse to assume that he still deserved sanji’s cooking- his thoughtfulness and his time. sanji sleeps on a couch, in a corner far away from their bedroom where there was no comforter, no warmth, no zoro, no love. the chill takes him to a place in his life confined by stone walls, and the punishment soothes him.
but they notice. and it hurts.
sanji puts away the sorry, microwaveable meal zoro had prepared for himself and cooks something kind and hearty, making sure to include all of zoro’s favorites. he packs it into tupperware so the love doesn’t leak out too much, staying nice and warm until whenever zoro feels hungry. he leaves a note and places it on the counter, removing himself from the scene. ‘eat properly, my marimo.’ when zoro eventually stumbles upon it, he sits at the counter, brows furrowed and chest aching as he takes his time to savor each bite, hoping that he’ll take long enough that he’ll be there when sanji next visits the kitchen.
at night zoro finds sanji on the ratty couch, trembling slightly from the cold but nonetheless sleeping. he shifts him, not-so-subtly prodding him around to make room for himself. sanji is roused from slumber, feeling how the cushions dip under zoro’s weight as he settles next to him, how his muscled arms wrap tightly around him and tuck him close. zoro buries his face in his neck and his broad figure shields him from the chill, protecting him from the emptiness of the room- his makeshift prison. ‘let’s move to the bed, dartbrow,’ he mumbles, and sanji fights tears as he nods, hand shifting to clasp around zoro’s and squeezing.
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fatedroses · 3 months ago
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When a test of a prince's taste backfires horribly. Or, how Alisaie gave herself psychic damage for not realizing this man may not act like how she imagines and she's suddenly being thanked for giving the worst food on the star to him.
(or, even, indirectly giving Meteor and Tsukiko psychic damage as Meteor refuses to let Zenos eat that god forsaken bread and has to hold him back like a misbehaving cat away from it.)
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ace-and-ranty · 1 month ago
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I know it's le most tired trope ever, but, "Oh no, Person A cooked all this food for Person B, but Person B is already on their way out / not coming home until late / eating out with his hoe / whatever / so they let it all go to waste!" always gets to me. How DARE you let Person A's cooking go to waste!! She spent all this time on top of the stove for you!!! EAT HER FOOD >(
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eerna · 1 year ago
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*grabs tiktok's shoulders* Jude isn't selfish. she is not a self-serving girlboss. the reason she played for the throne was 1) to keep Oak safe, 2) to keep mortals safe, and only then 3) to grab as much power as she could. she could have been and is always tempted to be, but she always stops herself in time.
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dubiousdisco · 4 months ago
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ingrid, sweetie, i'm so sorry
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katagawajr · 1 year ago
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i know it’s just because i’m in love with him but. bg3 making it canon that gale likes to cook (at home AND is the one who cooks dinner for everyone at camp) is just so endearing to me? it’s a cute detail
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phagodyke · 5 months ago
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at its core dorohedoro is abt what if there was someone whose special interest was making gyoza and also someone else whose special interest was eating them. and they found each other in this crazy world to be besties <3
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bookwormstarwarsfan · 5 days ago
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Someone just said that The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was boring because we didn't get to know in the end why Snow became evil...
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ratcandy · 17 days ago
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Whisk (the tarantula) has developed an excellent hunting strategy after her last molt. When she senses Prey, she will stalk it so good, get so ready to pounce, but then it will move and she’ll go AAGH!!! WHAT THE FUCK !! And run away back into her borrow .
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moeblob · 9 months ago
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Tiny one is a deity of lightning and she just wants to run around with the mortals and have fun but having a physical body takes a toll on her. So she has these two devoted followers she can communicate with and they can let her have control of their body which is easier on her (not them).
White haired woman is very strong while black haired man is skilled in magic. So if the deity is feeling really pent up she uses his body to discharge.
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softquietsteadylove · 2 months ago
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I have an idea for the family law au, what if Thena has a medical emergency (up to you what kind) and Gil comforts and helps to take care of her?
"Gil!"
"Oh, uh," he looked away from the nurse going through her charts, "that's her, actually."
"You know we can't let just anyone in here, sir."
But Sersi trotted over to them, swinging her arms tightly beside her. She turned her big, sad eyes on the nurse, "I called him. Please, we need help."
The woman sighed and rolled her eyes, but it was three in the morning and she waved them along.
"Thank you," Gil murmured, joining Sersi in her trip back down the hall. "Hey, are you okay?"
She nodded, continuing her anxious little tip-toeing that made it seem like she was looking for the washroom. "Thena isn't happy that we called you. But we didn't know what else to do. Just be warned."
He didn't have any trouble imagining the Thena he knew - the Ice Queen of the office - being too proud to call for help in a situation like this. "Sprite kind of told me what happened over the phone but I don't know if I have all the details."
Sersi sighed, coming to a halt and her shoulders sagging (deeply). She toyed with the ends of her oversized green flannel. "It's our fault."
"Hey," Gil corrected immediately and without hesitation, "that's not true."
"It is," she squeaked, sniffling through the tears she was trying to keep at bay. "We were too scared. We heard a noise and asked her to look downstairs."
"And she slipped?" he guessed, which made Sersi squeeze around herself tighter again. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, leaning down slightly. "Sersi, it's an accident. It's no one's fault, okay?"
She hiccuped quietly.
"I'm gonna say the same thing to Sprite too," he continued as he moved closer to the room again. Sersi positioned herself at the door.
"Thena?" Sersi knocked gently and cracked the door just slightly at first. "Gil's here."
"Come in, Sersi." The words weren't harsh, but the tone certainly was that of the Ice Queen of the office.
Gil didn't envy the girls as he closed the door behind him. Thena was obviously having a terrible time, propped up in her hospital bed, a large, uneven bow at the neck of her hospital gown, Sprite miserably leaning against the railing of the bed like a wounded puppy.
She looked up at him, pale and with a little purple at the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Gil."
"Don't be," he excused just as easily as he had with Sersi. He seated himself next to the bed, while Sersi moved to the opposite side to join her other sister. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I broke my arm."
The girls winced, and he watched Thena physically reel in her sharp tone and cutting words. She visibly softened herself, looking at her younger sisters on her other side (her injured side).
"It's okay, the doctor said it's a minor fracture at worst, I'll be fine in a month."
Gil was willing to bet they had been told six weeks, if not longer, and she was doing her best to sugar coat things for the tearful girls. He leaned forward, making an effort to catch Sprite's eye. "You did the right thing, calling me, kid. It was the right call."
Sprite manged to lift her head enough to look at him. Despite the bluer colour than Thena's, they certainly had similar eyes. "Thanks, Gil."
Thena looked back at him, able to do little more than swivel her head and leave her arm cushioned in the temporary sling they had offered. "I'm sorry to bother you, I know it's an unholy time of night."
"Oh, that's okay," he shook his head, "I was up anyway."
"You were-" Thena shook her head faintly. "Why would-!"
Gil blinked, watching as Thena's face shifted through a couple different emotions. Usually he had to try pretty hard to read what she was thinking. But he watched as she outwardly went from confused, to horrified, to maybe even embarrassed. Without any makeup, he could see how pale she really was, and the natural blush in her cheeks.
"I-I'm sorry, we shouldn't have--I'll apologise to, uhm, whomever..." Thena trailed off, shifting herself in the bed needlessly, even risking moving her arm to do it.
Sprite and Sersi adjusted her pillows for her, trying to keep her from the need to move at all.
"You don't have to apologise," Gil frowned, just as confused. "Really, I don't mind. I mean, even if I was asleep, I would have come in a heartbeat."
Thena seemed to know even less how to respond to that. And the kids were just as confused about all of it. She cleared her throat, tilting her head in such a way that seemed like maybe she was just stretching her neck. He leaned closer so she could whisper, "I meant if I should apologise to your...date--I-I will."
"Oh!" Gil squawked, and way too loudly for a hospital at night. He shot back into his chair, ducking his head down as if someone would come into the room and shush him. "N-No, no, really, it's nothing like that!"
"Like what?" Sprite voiced first, although by now Sersi had caught on to at least something along the lines of it.
"Uh," Gil searched for the words, trying not to seem so embarrassed over what was, in actuality, nothing. He cleared his throat, "I-I just mean, you didn't wake me up. I've been working on this special recipe I've been wanting to try. It needs to be basted every three hours for a whole day, and I can't do it while I'm at work, so I try stuff like this overnight and set an alarm for myself."
"Dude, that's psycho," Sprite informed him, and was able to escape the consequences because her oldest sister couldn't reach her to pinch her arm. She corrected her statement, "I mean, uh, cool."
"How often do you cook through the night?" Thena frowned at him.
"Well, not often, and usually I would try it on the weekend, but it was on sale, and I wanted to get it at its freshest , so," he shrugged. Despite the nature of the misunderstanding, he had to chuckle a little. "I'll bring some over for you to try."
"Gil, you really don't-" Thena was in the middle of shaking her head to tell him he didn't have to do anything else.
But he did; he grinned. "I do, though. I mean, you at least need a ride home. That's why I was called, I believe."
Thena practically growled at being reminded of why they were all here together at such a terrible hour in the first place.
"And there's no way you can cook with one arm," he continued, gesturing as he did. "Even if you can type with your non-dominant hand, I wouldn't recommend trying to get in to work while it's still too fresh."
Thena huffed, throwing her head back against her pillow. "Fine, fine, yes, knight in shining armour, do assist us helpless maidens."
The girls snickered at their sister's attitude. But Gil stood and leaned into Thena's upward point of view. "Thena, I know you're more than capable. But maybe, if there's any time for me to help, it would be now?"
Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the weird hospital lights, but he could swear her eyes looked a little glassy. "You've done more than enough already."
He did not agree. But he kept that to himself, resisting the urge to sort out her mussed locks of blonde for her. "I don't think of it as enough, or less than or more than. There's just what you can do, y'know? And I can, so I want to."
Maybe that was too reductive. Sprite didn't even look like she had followed what he had said. But Sersi seemed to, and had that excited look on her face as she was gazing at Thena, awaiting her response.
Thena furrowed her brows at him, creating that little knot between her eyebrows he thought was kind of cute. "Okay, counsellor, stop grandstanding."
He chuckled. She thought he made such corny jokes, but she was the one who told lawyer jokes like an old dad at a barbecue. "The defense rests?"
She didn't really laugh, but she kind of puffed out of her nose in a way that seemed amused. And she was smiling. "Fine, but at least sleep a little before you tell the office that they'll be free of me for at least two weeks."
Two weeks off for a six week injury--some would think it unreasonable, but only Thena would look at that ratio and think it was being indulgent.
"Uh, you mean I'll get us some coffee while you're waiting for that cast. Then I'll take us all home and get started on some food for you to keep microwave ready."
"Gil," she scolded him.
"That sound good, girls?" he prompted his two best allies in this argument. He could feel Thena glaring at him extra coldly.
"Yeah Thena, let Gil help," Sprite pleaded first, pinching the blanket thrown over her legs. "He has to drive us home anyway. And you're always telling us delivery fees are too expensive."
"They are," she managed to growl out even amidst her personal conflict. "Fine, but you two are going right to bed when we get home, because tomorrow is school again."
"Bro!" Sprite voiced (loudly).
"Shush," Thena silenced her with one pointed finger. "You're not the one with the broken arm, you don't need any more missed days this semester."
"Why do you get two weeks off?" Sprite grumbled lastly before slumping against the bed railing again. Although, Gil observed, she was still holding onto the blanket as a gesture of comfort. Sprite's huffing and puffing was, in its own funny way, her attempt to seem unfazed by all this.
"Because I can work from home," Thena proclaimed whether that was entirely true or not. "You can't. School tomorrow."
"But," Sersi broached as the true mediator of the three. She leaned on Sprite's shoulders, batting her eyelashes at Thena. "Breakfast sandwiches? Gil can drive us."
Thena gave Sersi a much dryer look. "Don't volunteer people to do things for you, Sersi."
"I don't know what's open right now, but maybe by the time we get all signed out," he offered, glancing at his watch. "But hey, if you guys wanna see what's in the vending machine, I won't stop you."
Thena sighed as the girls accepted his kind cash offering, waving at her on their way in promise to bring her something. She tilted her head on the pillow at him again, "what have you done?"
He leaned closer again, "I sent them away so you can tell me how you're really doing."
"My arm fucking hurts."
He chuckled again, although this time he did pull her blanket up again and at least get some hair out of his way of seeing her properly. "Did they give you enough meds?"
She made a face, and he recognised some true discomfort there. "I didn't want to ask for more while the girls were here."
"Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" he smiled, pressing the handy little button hanging right there for a nurse's assistance. "Don't worry about them, Thena. I'll take care of them and I'll get you all home, okay?"
She sighed, really closing her eyes since his arrival, despite her own exhaustion. "I still wish they hadn't have called you like this. But...thank you, Gil."
He would carry her if he really had to. But instead he said, "any time."
"If they get a bunch of sugar from the vending machine, don't tell me I didn't warn you," she mumbled.
"I'll take responsibility for it," he promised as he pulled his jacket off, settling in to be with them until release. "Do you want another blanket or anything too?"
"Ask if the girls can have some? We ran out of the house with whatever we could throw on in a few seconds."
"I will," he promised her, slipping her hand under the blanket and patting her arm.
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